Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Tonberg’s sewer network was a decrepit marriage of the old and new. Lieze could almost appreciate the incredible effort that went into its construction if it wasn’t for the awful smell. Valleys filled with bobbing rot and waste guaranteed that no commoner would ever be convinced to delve into the labyrinth unless they had a very good reason to.

“I’ll tell you this much - after some time, I came to appreciate the smell of cadavers and blood.” A voice bounced from the walls, “But this? If we have to spend another half-hour down here, I’m not sure my breakfast is going to sit still…”

“Are you really going to let the stench of shit dissuade you from accomplishing our goals?” Another answered, “Although, I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel sorry for the cult that decided to base itself in a sewer…”

Lieze still remembered the first time she stood too close to a living corpse. It wasn’t a matter of smell, but repulsion. Watching its bug-eyes poking out from their sockets. Its bloated, midnight-blue face slick with blood, paused in an expression of terror. It took her many months to come to terms with the truth: that it was the result of the sanctified soul leaving its cage of flesh. Being disgusted was only a natural response.

“How are we so certain that we’re going to find anything down here at all?” Drayya asked.

“Weren’t you listening to Baccharum?” Lieze replied.

“You’ll have to forgive me if I was too busy trying to come to terms with his appearance.” She answered, “By the Gods... I knew the Elves were strange-looking, but seeing one in the flesh made me wonder if there’s any credence to their ridiculous faith.”

“If you’ll recall, he told us that his lackeys constantly find themselves unable to make the sewers their territory.” Lieze explained, “-Something keeps stopping them. Just about every time he’s sent men down, they’ve ended up dead. Eviscerated. Left as an example.”

“-And he can’t exactly go to the guards about it, can he? Not while they’re after his head.”

“This will be another favour we can use to our advantage. Finding out whoever is killing his men and convincing them to stop. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Now, if only we had a clue of where to begin looking…” Drayya lamented.

The two of them had entered the sewers from the south side of the city, having pulled up (with great difficulty) a manhole in a lonely alleyway. While they had no map to guide them, Lieze felt as if owning one wouldn’t have been much help. With so many levels and bends, the sewers would have taken a master cartographer to map in their entirety.

“Think, Lieze. Think back to the verse.” Drayya encouraged, “‘The exiles of Paradise descended into the world’s darkness’... somewhere further down?”

“If only we knew where ‘down’ is…”

Forced to wander the sewers aimlessly, Lieze soon began to wonder if the two of them were on the right track at all. That was, until they looped the corner at an intersection and glimpsed something splattered on the far wall where the path split in two.

“...Is that blood?” She asked.

“It’s not only blood. Look here.” Pointing a finger, Drayya quickened her pace, “Do you recognise that?”

Whoever had spilled the blood in the first place wasn’t quite the artist that their confidence made them out to be, but there was a method to their madness. Segmented by gaps in the brickwork was an emblem, hurriedly fashioned but quite distinctive in its design. Distinctive enough, at least, that it was recognisable to Lieze in an instant.

“This is… Kazor Nict’s sigil, isn’t it?”

“He wanted it to be used as a universal symbol of necromancy.” Drayya explained, “Didn’t quite catch on, even in the Deadlands… but it seems someone here has been doing their research.”

“How does this help us?”

“Normally, it wouldn’t. Especially not if we were royalists. Just some foolish maniac’s attempt to express his esoteric knowledge.” She replied, “But… if I were to do this…”

Raising a hand towards the sigil, Drayya closed her eyes. As if brought to action by her very will, the dried blood began roiling and bubbling, collecting in deep-sanguine globules as it detached from the wall, hovering whimsically in the air.

“It’s a trifle to heal one’s thrall by returning lost blood to the body.” Drayya continued, “Far too slow for use in combat, regretfully, but it does have its uses.”

“I see.” Lieze replied, “With a thought, you can send this old blood on a journey to find its original host.”

“How astute of you.”

In the next moment, the blood suddenly splattered against the wall once more, scattering into motes of scarlet as the central mass began to crawl to the right, squirming towards its destination like a slug.

“Shall we?” Drayya asked, walking after the living liquid.

It seemed like such a simple trick, and yet Lieze had no knowledge of it.

“I wonder - does this scale still have secrets to uncover?” She wondered to herself, “I should try fiddling around with it when I have some privacy…”

She wanted to grow stronger. Not by the grace of the providence she’d been granted by the Gildwyrm, but through her own efforts. Up until that moment, Lieze had been relying on the scale to tell her what she needed to hear, but how likely was it that her apprehensiveness in exploring its capabilities was holding her back?

Here she was, following some stain across the walls animated by her peer. If she had a modicum of control over her own abilities, it could very well have been her making the bloodstain dance. There had to be more to the scale than a simple experience system. Or, at the very least, she held onto the hope that there was.

The roiling blood led the duo down filth-stained walkways separated by rivers of waste. Rusted-iron grates the size of Lieze’s fists studded the walls, occasionally purging a foetid combination of human refuse and foul-smelling liquid into the drainage channels filtering towards the shit-canal.

They proceeded further into the waste chute, feet slipping on the damp stonework as the terrain suddenly took a turn for the hell-bound. A flow of solids-encrusted water flew down the incline like a man made waterfall. Soon, their journey following after the bloodstain was accompanied by ladders and teetering catwalks of wood descending into the abyss, shafts of light filtering down from the grates of the busy streets above illuminating the water’s sulphur-yellow surface.

“Wait- Lieze.” Drayya stopped in her tracks, “Something’s ahead. A thrall.”

“...How do you suppose?”

It was a legitimate question. Lieze had never known necromancers to have an innate sixth sense for walking corpses that didn’t belong to them. Was it simply another trick she simply wasn’t in the know about?

“Focus your eyes.” Drayya pointed ahead - a completely useless gesture. They were standing on a walkway that could barely fit two people walking side-by-side. As Lieze narrowed her eyes, she spotted only a suggestion of what had gotten her companion so worked up. Some kind of tendril was snaking across the floor - away from them - catching on the jagged stone of the next corner before rubber-banding around with a loud snap seconds later.

“Intestines.” Drayya declared, “And their previous owner, just a few feet ahead.”

It struck Lieze just then that it was far too dark in that sewer. She thought their romp through the castle dungeons would have taught them a thing or two about that, but there they were, the very next day, trudging through the darkness without a torch yet again.

Lieze felt something. A hand on her back.

“Try to take control of it.” Drayya encouraged.

“Take control?” She blinked, “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s another necromancer’s thrall. I saw it for just a moment. It was a Gravewalker. Nothing special.” Her senior replied, “Exert your influence over it. We could do with some protection down here.”

“Is that possible?”

“You don’t think you’re up to the task?”

Drayya completely ignored her question. Lieze assumed the answer to it was therefore a succinct ‘yes, absolutely’, and moved on to another, “Why don’t you do it?”

“It’s you who’s got something to prove, isn’t it?” She taunted, crossing her arms, “And, I’m interested in seeing if you’re really as capable as you seem.”

It was neither a test nor a dependence. There was no reason for it. No rational explanation. It was just Drayya being Drayya, trying to make life harder for those around her. Perhaps she was confident that Lieze wouldn’t be able to do it. A desire to prove her wrong suddenly emerged like a serpent from the ocean of her soul.

New Quest Received!

"Direct Control" - Steal a thrall from another necromancer

Reward - 200xp

She didn’t need to look at the box to know what she’d been asked to do. Marching forward, Lieze rounded the corner up front and squinted while trying to make out the thrall’s silhouette as it shambled obliviously across the walkway.

What was she supposed to do? Holding out a hand, she demanded some unknown power from the Blackbriar. As visions of death invaded her mind, something different happened for once.

Technique Learned!

Name - [Transfer Thrall (lvl. 1)] Type - [Spell]

Description - Use 10% of your maximum MP (rounded up) in an attempt to take control of a thrall not under your direct command. The base chance for this feature's success is 0%, which increases by 5% for every level of yours that exceeds the target thrall's level, up to a maximum of 95%. Additionally, if the targeted thrall is 25 or more levels below you, the attempt succeeds automatically.

Her eyes glanced over the nameplate hovering in the darkness.

Gravewalker

Level 3 Undead

HP: 24 / 24 MP: 0 / 0

[45%] was her magic number. For such a decrepit thrall, it wasn’t worth nearly as much as [10%] of her MP, nor was it a particularly attractive gamble to begin with. Even so, Drayya was correct. The two of them would need at least some protection if they wanted to uncover the necromancer cult. The specimen in front of Lieze more than likely wasn’t going to be the last thrall they’d have to contend with.

Focusing her mind, the Blackbriar’s influence wrapped around Lieze’s consciousness like a glove. The visions were becoming clearer now. She could see bristles of hair poking out from the Lord of Death’s creeping thorns. A gaping hole in the earth leading straight to the central mass. An invitation to comforting oblivion.

MP - 346/385

Quest "Direct Control" Complete!

Reward - 200xp

She’d been lucky that time. Suddenly aware of her presence, the Gravewalker shuffled over with the obedience of a dog, lengths of intestine wrapped around its bloated waistline. Drayya’s footsteps approached from behind. Without turning around, Lieze could imagine her expression; a smirk that felt equal parts confident and challenged.

“Not bad at all, Lieze.” She praised, “Its previous master would have felt their influence waning. We should move on before they feel compelled to investigate.”

From her side, the bloodstain made a repulsive sound as it continued squirming across the wall.

“Yes.” Lieze agreed, “Let’s move on.”

Her prediction had been spot-on. Merely identifying the tricks of a necromancer was enough for the scale to unveil its secrets. She would have to make certain to tease Drayya into letting on more of her techniques.

The Gravewalker slowed down their progress ever-so-slightly as its rotting legs struggled to keep up with the duo. It wasn’t long before yet another sigil of blood - the exact same design - appeared on the wall. Drayya’s bloodstain happily absorbed the marker as it beamed through the putrid tunnels, leading the two (or three, technically) deeper into the labyrinth.

The density of thralls prowling the sewers increased severely as they went on. While they were never more complicated than simple Gravewalkers and Skeletons, their levels were slowly increasing. First, a [Level 6 Gravewalker], which Lieze failed to take control of.

MP - 307/385

Drayya stepped in to rectify her mistake, dominating the corpse with barely a flick of her wrist. Afterwards, a [Level 8 Skeleton] ambushed them from around a corner, managing to catch Lieze’s retracting hand with its rusted longsword as she took a step back to avoid the blow.

HP - 109/120

The deep cut wept blood as Drayya stepped forward to take control of the Skeleton. It was the first time Lieze had made such a foolish mistake since she was caught by Helmach.

“Lieze?” Once the threat had been turned, Drayya turned her attention to the girl. If Lieze concentrated hard enough, she could almost glimpse a suggestion of concern in her eyes, “How bad is it?”

Lifting a hand from the wound, Lieze winced as the warped flesh on her hand revealed its ugliness.

“...Hm. It looks worse than it actually is.” Drayya concluded, “You’ll live.”

Suck it up and get a move on. There was a time when she wouldn’t have hesitated to say that without reservation. The fact that she didn’t told Lieze that her newfound powers had garnered at least a small amount of Drayya’s respect.

“Skeletons don’t have the intelligence to plan ambushes. I think it’s fair to say that our mystery cult has been enlightened to our presence.” She continued, “We must be close.”

“...I suppose so.” Lieze agreed.