Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

The Gildwyrm’s scale ensured that Lieze would only grow stronger as time went on. However, the question still remained: how was she to weaken an entire city? No amount of necromancers or thralls could guarantee her a victory against the combined forces of the royalists and the priesthood--especially not with firebrands like Helmach plotting against her.

“One thing at a time…” She reminded herself, “For now, I should focus on gathering more recruits. I can’t be certain that the amount of thralls me and Alma can maintain at once will be enough to resist a surprise attack from Helmach, should he discover where we’re hiding.”

Thankfully, the process of selection was simple. Anyone with a passing interest in necromancy could be ascertained with a mere glance--such was the miracle of the scale’s power.

After an uncomfortable night sleeping on damp rock, Lieze was eager to return to Tonberg. Naturally, her first stop was the Golden Flagon, where she’d been developing quite the dependable reputation thanks to her (mostly ill-gotten) victories.

“Oi, Lieze!” A hearty voice called from a bursting table, “The lot of us are heading out in just a minute to slay a Chimera out in the Wildwood! You fancy coming along?”

The fellow screaming at her was no Dwarf, though he was both hairy and short enough to be mistaken for one. His proposition made her sigh internally. There was no greater embarrassment than having to put on a friendly face.

“I’m afraid I have some business to attend to.” She forced herself to smile, “Another time, perhaps.”

“Bah!” The bearded man turned his attention back to the table, “Told you it wasn’t worth asking, you bloody dullard…”

Her fame was a double-edged sword. On one hand, it did wonders for her cover to maintain a good relationship with the guild. But on the other, it was also easier for her to draw attention to herself. Whispers abounded of just what kind of sorcery she made use of.

“Miss Lieze.” The guild receptionist bowed as the girl approached her desk, “I see you’re still adamant about going it alone.”

“I prefer to receive 100% of the payout.” She replied, “Besides the Chimera, are there any urgent requests today?”

“None with the rewards you’re accustomed to, I would think.” The receptionist answered, “...Unless you’d like to follow up on a report nobody else seems to be interested in?”

“A report?”

“Yes. A number of His Majesty’s scouts returned this morning and announced that they had discovered evidence of necromancy south of the city. King Ricta is offering any member willing to validate these claims a personal audience.”

“The reward for investigating necromancers is the privilege of kneeling before the maggot king?” Lieze thought, “How inflated must that poor boy’s ego be to think an audience is anything special?”

“Sounds lovely.” She replied, “I’ll happily confirm those claims.”

“Oh- really? Well…” The receptionist seemed surprised at her enthusiasm, “This enigmatic ‘evidence’ was supposedly discovered south of the western highway leading towards Bascoroch--near the signpost diverting south to the abandoned village of Hoplod.”

“What was this evidence?”

“It… doesn’t say, I don’t think.” Scrambling for a torn sheet of parchment beneath her desk, she examined the notice closely, “It must be quite noticeable, in that case.”

“It’s nothing to worry about. I’ll depart immediately.”

“Uh- Miss Lieze!” Calling out with slightly more confidence than the last time they parted, she paused before continuing, “I know I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but… necromancers are incredibly dangerous. Remember that your objective isn’t to defeat any you encounter--just to confirm their presence.”

“I understand. Expect to hear back from me by the evening.”

It was precisely the kind of rumour Lieze wanted to hear. She’d have to exercise caution, however. Alma had been a prime target for recruitment. She was meek and wary of revealing her dark interests, capitulating to demands at the slightest push. But a necromancer practising the art freely beyond the city walls would make for a significantly more dangerous negotiation. As Lieze set out from the guild and began making her way to the city gates, she wondered just what sort of person would be so bold as to leave evidence of their necromancy out in the open.

Furthering herself from the chaos of civilization put Lieze’s mind at ease. She was too accustomed to the sanctified nothingness of the Order. To her, there was no sound more calming than the tomb-whistle of stray winds worming into the foundations of her home, or the bobbing wetness of creatures flitting about the marshes on amber-soaked evenings.

But even so, she didn’t miss the Deadlands. Neither her father’s lecturing nor her peers’ half-hidden insults blessed the girl with any sort of nostalgia. She had been weak. She was an insult to the Deathguards--a nepotistic standard representing the worst of her fold.

But no longer. As she wandered the forgotten highways of the Sovereign Cities, the thralls accompanying her were leaps and bounds ahead of the pitiful legion she’d spent months assembling for the siege of Tonberg. For once, she marched along with purpose. Her ironic salvation, smooth to the touch, glimmered beautifully in the midday sun.

Hoplod was beneath her understanding. A sleepy village once infested with hayseeds and illiterates--a mere stepping stone on the Order’s crusade. Lieze had seen too many hamlets relieved of their occupants to remember each of their names. Ricta, too, seemed to care little for his outlying subjects, abandoning them to perish without so much as a single royalist donated to their protection.

It was the same everywhere, whether humans or Dwarves or Elves. Kings were but complex abstractions of greed and lowly ambitions. They ruled over kingdoms built on foundations of sand, concerned with nothing but their own comfort. As alienated as Lieze was, the Order’s ideals captured her just as fervently as they did any other necromancer. That, she thought, must have been a testament to the truth of their way--the unobstructed, ceaseless providence within the Order’s dogma.

When she reached a crossroads, Lieze could already tell something was amiss. The lonely countryside air, once suffused with the stench of pig shit, was instead rich with death. She found beauty in the stench where none existed, losing herself in faraway memories of nights within the Order’s ritual chambers.

Listening closely, she heard neither the chirping of birdsong nor the mating calls of the forest beasts. Vanished, as if scared off by some desecrating force. Sokalar had always taught her that the simplest of creatures were often the first to respond to magical phenomena. The first suggestions of sanctified corruption had already spread to that wide-open meadow.

New Quest Received!

"Blossoming Evil" - Discover the source of the magical corruption.

Reward - 450xp

Of all the pitiable beliefs of man, Lieze was beginning to understand humanity’s respect for the Gildwyrm. If it handed out miracles similar to the scale on a regular basis, it was no wonder the God had countless worshippers. Ironic, considering it stood in staunch opposition to the Blackbriar.

She couldn’t be certain of the corruption’s origin, but her gut feeling pointed the girl in the direction of Hoplod. A destroyed and abandoned village would make for a fine hideout to hone one’s craft. Before continuing on her way, Lieze stopped to consider her thralls.

Two Gravewalkers, levels [4] and [5] respectively, idled unsteadily near the level [13] Horror she had created the other day. It wouldn’t have been wise for her to depart with too many of the hideout’s guardians, especially with Helmach no doubt scrambling to find her. But was she prepared for an encounter with another necromancer? Her time at the Order had solidified the belief that no practitioner of the forbidden art was to be trusted in any genuine capacity.

“I need to start considering strategies for potential battles…” She spoke to herself, “First of all, I should confirm whether or not this necromancer is actually in the village.”

Hoplod was barely a hop and a skip away from the crossroads. The half-rotten husk of a mill preceded her and her undead escort’s arrival into the quaint farming hamlet. The wide stretches of sundered soil flanking the village were peppered with stubborn crops. Its homes and barns were in remarkably fine condition, albeit a tad overgrown.

The silence carrying on the winds blowing through the village square put Lieze on edge. Neither the living nor the dead were present, but that wasn’t enough to dissuade her from erring on the side of caution. As she approached a well poking out from the hamlet’s heart, her gaze fell upon a set of shapes in the mud.

“...Footprints?” She wondered, kneeling down, “Separated thinly on the way towards the well, but widely on the exit… someone ran away from here very recently.”

The tracks led towards the eastern side of the village. Ordering her thralls to stick close, Lieze began the slow march towards a cluster of homes while keeping a close eye out for any nearby hiding spots. The footprints soon concluded at the threshold to a former pub--the only structure in the village with more than a single floor.

“Someone’s in here.” Lieze thought, “I can’t hear anything… but that doesn’t mean it’s safe. There could be Fleshbags waiting to ambush me…”

It was too risky to enter. But entering wasn’t necessary.

“The most basic rule of warfare. If an enemy tries to hold out in a defensible position, simply wait them out. They’ll either starve, or be forced to emerge on my terms.”

The pub had glossy windows on the front and sides, but none at the rear. Lieze ordered her Gravewalkers to stand guard at its flanks.

“If they try to escape through a second-story window, I’ll hear them dropping down.” She resolved, “The Gravewalkers will foil any attempt to escape from the sides, leaving no other choice but to approach the Horror at the main entrance.”

All that was left was for Lieze to announce her presence.

“Hm.” Clearing her throat, she took a step towards the pub, “Whoever is hiding within this building, know that I have it surrounded! If you are a necromancer, I don’t wish to fight you! Rather, I wish to seek common ground!”

Shortly after the beginning of her speech, the distinct sound of footfalls against creaking floorboards resounded from above. It was almost comical how little the pub’s occupant was doing to conceal their presence--though such shameless confidence made Lieze wary. The feeling subsided, however, when it became apparent that her quarry was moving to greet her.

The silhouette which passed through the dilapidated tavern did so without fear. A doubt sprung up in Lieze’s mind. What if she wasn’t prepared to deal with whoever it was? For her own sake, she pushed the thought aside, focusing entirely on preparing herself. Clutching the dagger concealed under her robe, her nails threatened to pierce skin.

“What a familiar voice…” She heard, “But, it couldn’t be… could it?”

Lieze tried poorly to hide her surprise as the shadow emerged into the midday sunlight. A veil of raven-black hair poured out from the stowaway’s hooded robe--the very same sort that Lieze herself wore. Scrawled across the woman’s face was a bemused smirk. She seemed not at all intimidated by the hulking mass of flesh idling just a few paces away, nor the shambling corpses peering absent-mindedly through the pub’s windows.

“Dear oh dear…” She muttered, “I believe it not--as the old bookkeeper would say. To think you were still alive all this time, Lieze.”

“D-” For the first time since she had arrived in the city, Lieze found herself speechless, “...Drayya?”

Quest "Blossoming Evil" Complete!

Reward - 450xp