Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Starlings hovering down from the city to pull up worms from the dirt crossed over the hilltop cave. Dwarves worked tirelessly to mold the limestone walls into something resembling an entrance, occasionally popping into the caverns holding their noses to check that they weren’t going off-kilter. It would take another day before one would be able to simply walk inside.

Marché Hopper decided to keep it to himself that it doesn’t seem any more sophisticated than his own hideout beneath the city. He and three other individuals - Lieze, Drayya, and Alma - were huddled around a sunken cavity in the largest chamber. The wooden rim of a gargantuan barrel created a very thin valley between the hole and itself, almost large enough to sink a leg into.

“I’m not certain this was the best decision.” Lieze stared into the barrel’s bloodstained abscess. All it would take was one bad step in the dark to fall inside.

“Well... you have to admit we’ll never need anything bigger than this.” Drayya replied, “We’re paying for the Dwarves, after all. Alma had every right to put them to work.”

“I didn’t think anything else was reasonable…” Alma fidgeted.

“No. It works.” Lieze sighed, “Just be mindful of falling in.”

Her gaze fell upon Marché, who was obviously more interested in talking about anything other than the barrel hole. Despite his initial protests to serving the Order, he was a patient man.

“We can’t move everyone into this hideout.” He spoke, “It’s too small.”

“Better to make use of both.” Lieze replied, “If one or the other falls, we’ll have somewhere to regroup.”

“This cave isn’t particularly hidden, either.” He continued, “How are we to build an army capable of opposing Ricta if we can’t hide our thralls? What if someone comes by?”

“That’s not as much of a problem as you might think.” She answered, “The city is currently under martial law. Only guild members are allowed in or out, and as far as the guild knows, this cave is abandoned. In fact, it was recently cleared of monsters.”

“Even so, you’re worried about an attack.”

“Isn’t that reasonable?” Lieze wondered, “If we could afford to, I would happily order some fortifications to be built.”

“I doubt either Ricta’s soldiers or the priesthood are going to be departing from the city anytime soon. Not when the risk of Sokalar attacking again is so high.” Marché deduced. He wasn’t an unobservant man by any stretch of the imagination, “Who is it you’re worried about?”

“The Acolytes.”

“They’re harmless.” He declared. There was no trace of rhetoric in the statement. He was utterly convinced of the fact, “Vigilantes and nothing more. They couldn’t get a cat down from a tree, never mind war with necromancers.”

“Helmach is dangerous.”

“Yes.” Something flashed in his singular eye. Fear, or something very similar, “Yes, he is.”

“You’ve met him?”

“I have.” His feet shuffled along the limestone floor, “In another life.”

There was more to that claim. Something he was perhaps even a little eager to recall. The two men shared a history, but not an amicable one. The thought only served to unnerve Lieze. Did Helmach have some kind of vendetta against necromancers?

“He knows of me.” Lieze revealed, “I’m not sure how.”

“I know of you, too.” Marché replied, “You murdered his sister, didn’t you?”

“I think her corpse is still wandering around here somewhere, yes.”

“Don’t ever let that slip.” He warned, “Allow it to be his fantasy. A reason to fight. Reveal the truth to him, and you’ll unleash a madman.”

“The truth would break him.”

“It would.” Another shuffle. The topic worried Marché, “-But not in the way you’d like it to. Believe me.”

There would come a day when Lieze and Helmach would face one-another on the battlefield. Sooner than either of them could imagine. It would be the start of something glorious and terrifying--a definitive shift from the careful reputation Lieze had managed to cultivate in Tonberg.

“We’ve been receiving corpses from Baccharum Silas.” She explained.

“Not enough, I assume.” Marché crossed his arms, “It’s never enough.”

“No. And that’s why we need to find a new source. In the next week or so, our numbers need to swell so dramatically that they could take someone like Helmach by surprise.”

“I would like to hear your suggestions first. And let me tell you, it isn’t as simple as visiting a graveyard in town.”

“I was never going to suggest that.” She asserted, falling silent for a moment, “...Our only solution is to start taking thralls from neighbouring cities; Bascoroch, Saptra…”

“Won’t they attack us?”

“They will. My father can only maintain a very weak connection with his abandoned thralls.”

“Sokalar is controlling all of them?” Marché blinked. The claim sounded unbelievable to him.

Lieze nodded, “It’s thanks to him that they haven’t infested the countryside. It’s necessary to retain the hold we have over the Sovereign Cities. Ricta would just send in a few soldiers to clean up, otherwise.”

“This sounds like a dangerous idea.”

“There’s no other alternative. Not to acquire the numbers we need in such a short amount of time, that is.”

“We’ll be torn to pieces.”

“-Unless you’re quiet. Very quiet.” Lieze explained, “We have something that you could use to your advantage.”

“...Hang on a moment.” Drayya intervened, “You don’t mean-”

“Yes. I do.” She insisted, “The Wraith.”

As she uttered that name aloud, the temperature in the chamber started to drop. Emerging from the land itself seeped a freezing smog with neither a body nor mind, and yet which was so undeniably intelligent as to instil an instinctive fear in the heart of whoever lingered in its presence.

“What in the-” Marché took a step back, watching his breath escaping, “What manner of monstrosity is this!?”

“The single factor that demonstrates our power.” Drayya explained, “-A crystallisation of Master Sokalar’s perfect genius. A creature beyond all worldly understanding.”

Nothingness. The scale couldn’t parse a single piece of information from the Wraith. Its nature defied the physical world in such a manner that even allowing it the moniker of a ‘creature’ was disturbingly humanising. But it was powerful. So unbelievably powerful that even Sokalar must have harboured doubts about summoning it.

“I do not control it.” Drayya admitted, “I don’t think Master Sokalar does, either. But it obeys our commands for the time being.”

The fear in Marché’s singular eye was palpable. He wanted nothing to do with the Wraith, “...And how do you suppose this will help us?”

“I’ve seen how it kills. Immobilisation, followed by asphyxiation.” She explained, “You could use it to keep thralls still while you convert them, is what I’m trying to say. And it will also defend you from the worst of what you may encounter.”

“You would entrust me with power such as this?”

“I’m not entrusting you with anything.” Drayya replied, “-Act out of order, and the Wraith will know. It does obey Sokalar’s will, as far as I can tell.”

“Trying to keep an eye on me?”

“I wouldn’t expect a necromancer fresh from Tonberg’s sewers to know, but within the Order, betrayal is quite common.” She went on, “It’s not a bad habit to keep tabs on those you’re wary of.”

“I appreciate the candour.” Marché shivered as tendrils of living fog creeped around his waist, “...Do you wish for me and my associates to depart immediately? We could reach Bascoroch or Saptra by evening if we get moving right away.”

“Go to Saptra.” Lieze commanded, “The royalists have been informed that evidence of necromancy was discovered south of Bascoroch. It’s likely they’ve sent a detachment or two that way.”

“As you wish.” Marché bowed, “We’ll return with as many thralls as we can manage.”

After he departed from the cavern, the temperature slowly returned to normal.

New Quest Received!

‘Legion’ - Command at least 70 undead thralls.

Reward - 2,000xp

“I don’t like him.” Drayya tapped her feet against the stone as if to emphasise her opinion, “Too confident.”

“He seems to me like exactly the kind of pushover we need.” Lieze replied.

“One can only take being ordered around so much. Necromancy has a way of drawing them in - the starry-eyed and ambitious.” She paused, “...He seems to know Helmach. Personally.”

“It didn’t sound like the two of them are on the best of terms.”

“Well, that’s one thing the two of you have in common, isn’t it?” A crude smirk, “Speaking of him, we should try to gather some more intelligence on the Acolytes of Reunification. We might be able to turn one or two of his men into moles, if we’re lucky.”

“Not today.” Lieze disregarded, wandering back over to the splintering rim of the barrel, sitting in its hole, “I’d like for the two of us to spend the day performing some alchemy, if you don’t object to the idea?”

“Hm. We do have an abundance of fresh corpses…” Drayya considered her proposition with morbid curiosity, “Very well. But what to do with Alma in the meantime?”

The sheepish girl froze as her name was suddenly called. With Marché recruited, Lieze couldn’t help but feel as though Alma’s comparatively pitiful necromancy had suddenly become quite useless.

“From now on, I’ll consider you the steward of this hideout, Alma.” Lieze proclaimed.

“Eh?” She could only dart her eyes from side to side, “That’s… quite a responsibility.”

“You know Tonberg better than either of us. Marché as well, if I had to guess.” Lieze had to encourage her. If they were going to have a chance at Tonberg, everybody needed to pull their weight, “Therefore, instead of improving your necromancy, I would entrust you with maintaining the connections we have with our allies. Baccharum most importantly.”

“I-I’ll do my best.”

Something skittered from the walls to the floor, making a repulsive sound. It was no spider, but some unholy amalgamation of a scorpion and a beetle. Colourless venom dripped from its stinger, poised in the air as if to strike at whoever dared to draw close. The nameplate above its head was so small that Lieze had to squint in order to read it.

Nightcrawler

Level 1 Aberration

HP: 1 / 1 MP: 0 / 0

It was pitifully weak, but a perfect example of how a creature’s level often didn’t represent its true strength. Lieze found herself wishing for a moment that her scale would divulge some more detailed information for a change.

“The Breeder is finished, then.” She concluded, “We ought to create a few more and build up our supply. We can set them loose in the city once we have enough.”

Alma was trying not to stare in the insect’s direction. Her surprising innocence juxtaposed her desire to become a necromancer in the first place. Meanwhile, Drayya, who had been playing with Nightcrawlers as a babe, displayed not a hint of fear as she wandered over and picked it up in one hand, eliciting a perplexed squeak from the tiny beast.

“It might be a better idea to send this one out right away.” She recommended, “It needs time to suffuse itself with the city’s ills. A day or two in the sewers will transform it into a hive of disease.”

“Sowing the seeds of plague in Tonberg will draw eyes away from our mission…” Lieze placed a hand to her chin, “-Moreover, the priesthood will be too preoccupied curing diseases instead of rallying against the Order’s cause.”

“Go on then, little one.” Drayya commanded - perhaps more amicably than normal - as she kneeled down to release the Nightcrawler, which promptly disappeared into the darkness of the cave, “Now, let’s put some of Baccharum’s ‘gifts’ to good use, shall we?”

Their plans for the rest of the day had been set in stone. A pile of no less than 12 corpses had accumulated in the hideout’s deepest chamber; what remained of the foolish heroes who thought themselves capable of taking Baccharum’s head. Most of them were low-level guild members. Ideal subjects for blood extraction.

Over the course of 4 hours, Lieze and Drayya syphoned 8 corpses of their essence - 40 litres of blood in total, which was barely enough to start filling the gargantuan barrel Alma had sourced. The pungent scent of iron in the air reminded Lieze of simpler times.

MP - 462/475

She also took the opportunity to examine one of her unused abilities.

Ability - Necromantic Alchemy (Infusion)

Description - Spend 1 hour to empower a thrall using blood. The target thrall requires double its current level in litres of blood in order to level up. You can raise a thrall's level up to a maximum of 5 times per hour spent.

“It’s cheap to begin with, but the price soon becomes unbearably high.” She thought, “It’s worthwhile for uplifting especially weak thralls, but not much more than that.”

Drayya tapped her foot while observing the girl, “What do you suppose we should do with all of this blood?”

Lieze paused, “...I’m surprised you’re interested in hearing my opinion.”

“Don’t make a fuss about it.” She lowered her head, “Please.”

It was perhaps the most vulnerable thing she’d said to Lieze in over a decade. The last thing she wanted to tolerate was being teased for displaying a shred of courtesy. She was offering that choice unconditionally, placing her own pride on the line to test the waters between them. For the first time, Lieze felt like the more powerful of the two.

“I was thinking we could create a Flesh Elemental.” The responsibility she felt was immense. A storm of hatred and forgiveness, “It would be a formidable one with all this blood.”

“...That’s not a bad idea.” After a pause, Drayya replied, “Or, we could use it to produce more Nightcrawlers.”

“What do you think is best?”

“I’ll leave it up to you.”

“No.” Lieze rejected, “...I want you to decide. You have more experience in these matters than I do.”

The two of them were conflicted. There was certainly a ‘connection’ of sorts being established. An abstraction of the relationship they shared as children. But the desire to reignite that long-lost friendship was marred by years of hatred. Lieze recalled the expression on Drayya’s face well. She was on the verge of tears.

“...The latter, then. That’s my decision.” She resolved, “I’m going to check on the Dwarves’ progress.”

And like that, she left, ascending through the caverns towards the precarious rope climb.

Lieze felt guilty. Her mind had been exploding into a hive of seething hatred whenever Drayya had so much as directed a vague insult her way, but for a moment, it almost seemed like the two of them were on the verge of rediscovering something very important.

Alma approached Lieze from behind. She fidgeted while searching for the correct words.

“...Drayya seems hurt.” She noticed. It was the first time she had ever spoken the girl’s name, “I think she wants you to follow her.”

“It’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment.” Lieze did nothing to hide the longing in her tone, “It won’t get in the way of our goals.”

Alma could feel the rift between them. They were from separate worlds. Friendship - true friendship, was an alien concept to members of the Order. Nothing she could say would make the situation any better. All she could do was wait.

“...Nightcrawlers it is, then.” Lieze sighed, “Go and bring a few of the corpses up from below, Alma.”

“Eh…” She winced, “...O-Of course. I’ll be back in a moment…”