Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

When Lieze awoke, she was face-down on a damp cobblestone floor with a splitting headache. Freezing water droplets from the weeping, cobweb-infested ceiling landed on the back of her head and sent shivers down her spine. Struggling to keep her eyes open, she could barely make out a thing in the darkness besides the wrought-iron door barring her from leaving.

Something scurried onto her hand--a kind of horrid insect that made a terrible squeaking as she reflexively yanked her wrist away, rising unsteadily to both feet.

Her head felt like a lead weight. The room was deathly cold, undecorated apart from a single tin pot idling in the corner. Between the cell’s iron bars, Lieze could spot another, unoccupied room at the opposite end of the corridor. Her Bag of Holding was missing, but whoever threw her into the cell had been polite enough to keep her dressed. More than anything else, she was surprised to be alive. Helmach didn’t seem like the kind of man who was interested in anything besides her swift death.

Helmach. His name grew in Lieze’s mind like a tumour. It was no wonder Noma and Silas had warned her about him--he wasn’t the sort of person to busy himself with idle talk. There was no greater danger to someone like Lieze, who often placed too much stock in her talents of manipulation.

But Helmach wasn’t a man without cunning. Whether he was certain that Lieze had killed his sister or not, he wouldn’t get away with murdering someone before they were proven guilty. She imagined, however, that he wasn’t particularly bothered about receiving a truthful confession. In many ways, he was similar to her--willing to make use of any underhanded tactic to get what he wanted. Only, he did so to further the ideals of a supposedly ‘honourable’ faith, rather than those who consorted with the living dead.

Once her headache had dulled, Lieze wasted no time in trying to uncover an escape route. At first, she took stock of the cell’s dilapidated architecture and wondered if any of the walls were close to crumbling, but upon closer inspection, they seemed surprisingly rugged considering their age. After rattling the cell door for a few seconds, she concluded that it, too, wasn’t about to be persuaded into falling over anytime soon.

The chamber pot--empty, thankfully--was incredibly small, probably to prevent it from being used as a weapon by ambitious prisoners. The poor quality of the metal would see it disintegrating before it could be used to file down the bars on the door. A few loose stones from the ground were the only reliable tools she’d been given. Not enough to dramatise her escape, but enough to give her at least once chance.

Over the course of the next hour, Lieze hid herself in a front corner of the cell and busied herself with smashing one stone against the other, painstakingly chipping one side down to a fine edge. In the Order’s ancient days, stone knives were often used ceremoniously during sacrificial rituals, though they were most often knapped of flint rather than granite. Bardy Lüngen, the Order’s archivist and tutor to a younger Lieze, taught her to shape such tools as a child, much to her bored dismay. Being forced to finally put that skill to use made her somewhat appreciative of his antiquated lessons.

The knife wasn’t anything special. If she so much as dropped it, the whole thing would shatter into a hundred pieces. But it was a weapon, albeit a poor one. Lieze had no intention of fighting her way out of whatever hole she’d been thrown into, but it was possible she’d be able to secure a bargaining chip with some tact.

As she examined her work with some pride, a shadow danced across the cell’s floor. As she turned her head, she noticed a mange-ridden rat scurrying in the corner. As the gears began to turn in her head, Lieze stowed the knife away before wandering towards the rodent.

By the time someone finally came around to check up on her, she was almost convinced that Helmach intended for her to rot away in that cell. Two sets of footsteps shortly revealed themselves as belonging to a pair of rust-cloaked fellows with their hoods drawn. A set of keys clinked noisily as one of them fiddled with the door’s rattling lock.

“I was wondering when someone was going to visit.” Lieze joked, “I don’t suppose you could tell me why I’ve suddenly been imprisoned?”

“Be quiet.” The first man demanded calmly, “Sir Helmach wishes to speak with you.”

“I’d like to speak to a few people, too--the authorities, for starters. But that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen, does it?”

“Just grab her, for fuck’s sake.” His companion sighed, “Helmach told us not to speak to her.”

The two men worked as one, quickly entering the cell once it was opened and giving Lieze barely any time to react. She hadn’t planned on dealing with two guards simultaneously, but there was never going to be another chance for her to escape.

As a pair of hands reached out to restrain her, she lashed out with the knife hidden in the ball of her hand, stabbing the point clumsily into the guard’s palm before swiftly retrieving the weapon and taking advantage of his sudden pain and confusion to restrain him by the neck, quickly placing the blood-stained knife at his throat.

The rasping of a blade from its scabbard told her that the guard’s companion wasn’t troubled in the least that she was using him as a shield. With mercilessness rivalling that of a necromancer’s, he raised the shortsword above his head while taking a step forward before bringing the blade down in an attempt to kill both Lieze and her hostage.

“Tolva.”

-But it wasn’t meant to be. Just as the attack began, a deep voice echoed from the stagnant walls, and as if possessed by sorcery, the assailant froze completely, halting his momentum in a display of martial prowess that would have put a warrior monk to shame. The heavy footfalls of a gargantuan man trailed slowly behind him, until the silhouette of Helmach was towering behind him.

“...What’s going on here?” He asked simply.

The guard’s expression had been one of complete confidence up until that moment. But before Helmach, he was suddenly reduced to a fearful wreck. Lowering his weapon sheepishly, the man steadied his nerves before turning to face the giant behind him.

“The prisoner has… uh, a weapon.” He reported, “She managed to catch us by surprise, and…”

“-And you were planning on cutting straight through your comrade to get at her?” Helmach finished, “Where in the Book of the Wyrm King does it state that sacrificing one’s ally is an acceptable decision?”

“That’s-”

“From the Verse of Staraz-” He interrupted, “‘Whosoever weighs his soul against those of the innocent--by the Wyrm’s grace--shall be declared unworthy.’”

The next words out of the guard’s mouth were about to be part of a long-winded apology, but he wasn’t quite afforded the time, for Helmach was already drawing the massive greatsword from his back in the time it took for his subordinate to lower his head.

Lieze wasn’t sure what to make of the sight. Or the sound. As if swinging a twig he’d pulled from a withered bush, the weapon fell faster than the eye could perceive, sinking between the guard’s eyes before he could even react. The horrid sound of metal against stone threatened to burst her eardrums as the greatsword cleaved straight through the former Acolyte’s body and slammed against the floor--a stew of organ tissue rupturing against the blade. The guard’s halves lingered for a moment, unaware that they’d just been separated, before falling with twin thuds to the ground.

A tired sigh made its way up from Helmach’s throat. It was the same lifeless disconnection one would expect to hear from an executioner. As he returned the greatsword to his back, the ringleader’s gaze fell upon Lieze and the captive guard; both of whom had been stunned into silence.

“...That’s not a bad knife.” He commented, “I learned to knap in my youth. The Cardinals taught us to shape obsidian from the volcanic wastes of the north. I thought it was a bit pointless. Why create such fragile weapons when the Church had spears and blades to spare? But I see now their purpose as the tools of fugitives and prisoners.”

“I wasn’t given much of a choice.” Lieze answered, “When you threaten to torture those you’ve unlawfully kidnapped, I wouldn’t act disappointed when they try to escape.”

“To think you were willing to go this far.” He replied, “It’s almost as if you have experience murdering those who happen to get in your way.”

Helmach wasn’t bothered in the slightest by the fact that she still had a hostage. Worse yet, Lieze understood why that was the case.

“Let’s get this over with.” He concluded, “Kill that guard, and I’ll have you tried for murder.”

“-When you’ve already kidnapped me? I’m trying to defend myself!”

“You’re under investigation by the Acolytes of Reunification.” He explained, “It’s completely routine. Naturally, if there’s nothing suspicious about you, we’ll be booting you back onto the streets in no time.”

“The Acolytes don’t have that kind of authority.” Lieze countered, “Noma told me that.”

“Let me make one thing quite clear-” He began, taking a step forward, “-Mention that name again, and you’ll be dead faster than you can blink. Don’t think for a second that you have any power to negotiate with me. The Acolytes have more authority than you may realise.”

“So that’s how it is.” She theorised, “The Church doesn’t sponsor you in any official capacity, but it also doesn’t condemn your actions. After all, if your objective is to grant it more judicial power, then why would it bother? The priesthood can maintain plausible deniability while having their own private inquisition dealing with any religious dissidents.”

“You make it sound so bureaucratic.” He replied, “I wouldn’t expect an outsider to understand our ways. You have no idea just how far our nation has fallen since the reformation. Degeneracy and hedonism run amok in an age when men should be rallying against the forces of the Order--not busying themselves with brothels and Dwarven tobacco.”

“How very noble.” She complimented dryly, “And how does all this justify the kidnapping of an innocent woman?”

“Still deluding yourself, I see.” Helmach shrugged his shoulders, “Well, no matter. I can stand here for as long as it takes for you to either doom yourself by committing first-degree-murder or agree to be locked up in your cell again.”

Lieze clicked her tongue. She didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. Her gambit wasn’t worth the time wasted. With a push, she separated from her hostage, who quickly retreated behind the massive man, cradling his still-bleeding palm.

“I was told you wanted to speak to me?” She asked.

“I’ve heard just about enough.” He disregarded, “No doubt you’ll be more receptive to my questioning once some time has passed. A week, perhaps. I’m no monster, Miss Lieze--if I can help it, I’d like for your execution to be sponsored by the city.”

“That pride will be your downfall.”

“We’ll see.” Turning his back to her, Helmach made his way out of the prison while his rescued Acolyte fumbled to lock the door behind them, “Yes. We’ll certainly see.”

A matter of seconds later, she was alone again. As Helmach and his accomplice disappeared from view, something crawled out from the cell’s dark corner to gnaw at the bisected corpse staining the cobblestone floor with blood. The rat was an indulgent rodent with a body fattened by its diet of expired prisoners, but it didn’t seem to mind Lieze in the slightest. As a matter of fact, when she willed it, the small beast approached her like an obedient pup.

Undead Rodent

Level 1 Undead

HP: 1 / 1 MP: 0 / 0

If there was ever a thrall more pitiful than this, Lieze had yet to encounter it. But the rat’s diminutive size was going to work in her favour. Either that, or she really would be wasting away in that prison. Holding out a hand, she felt a tingling in her skull while communing with the rodent.

“Find Alma.” She commanded, “Lead her to wherever this is.”

The rat quickly departed to serve her whims, squeezing its engorged body through the cell bars and disappearing into the darkness. With a sigh, Lieze took a few moments to appreciate what was going to be her new home for the foreseeable future. She loathed the idea of placing such a responsibility on Alma, but there was simply nothing else she could do.

But even so, she didn’t allow herself to fall into despair. The feelings of defeat stirring in her heart only served to steel her resolve. Since her fateful departure from the Order, Lieze had been in dire lack of true enemies. That void had been filled to the point of overflowing by Helmach. She wouldn’t die--not before returning the favour to him tenfold.