Heather the Necromancer

Book 1: Chapter 10: Never make fun of my dress!



Heather yawned as she stepped out of the crypt into the morning light. The sun hung low on a blue sky in its dawn position. She peeked around the doors to look for skeletons, but all she saw was the silent stones of the graveyard. Quickly she stepped across the yard to the gate and outside into the tall grass.

“So the trail needs to come here,” she said with a smile. She pulled out her panel and began poking through options. “I will take this, and this, and this,” she said with a smile. There was a puff of smoke, and she now stood in a white dress and sunbonnet tied around her head with a blue ribbon.

She took a deep breath and stood on her toes as she placed the back of her wrist to her forehead.

“I do declare that this is a fine day to plant the garden,” she said in her worst southern accent.

She went back to her tablet and started to tap at options. “Where is the lawnmower?” she gripped. She searched the device for what she needed and grew more frustrated. “How do you cut grass in this world?”

[Ding! Search complete!] her panel said in a chirpy voice.

Heather gazed down at the screen and raised a brow. “You have a search engine?” She read the entry and twisted her face. “What is a scythe?”

The device dinged again and gave her an assortment of pictures showing various long-bladed tools for cutting grass.

“Oh, it's that grim reaper thing!” she exclaimed. She tapped the screen and a puff of smoke formed at her feet, leaving behind a long wooden shaft with a hooked metal blade. She set her panel aside and picked up the shaft stumbling with the unbalanced metal end.

“Well, let's cut a path,” she said and started swinging. Grass flew everywhere as she cut the most jagged uneven path imaginable. After an hour, she huffed and looked back on the hacked passage across the field.

“It's a path,” she panted. “I'm sure it will work.” She leaned on her scythe and took a break from her toil. The path stretched all the way to the top of the hill and nearly to the existing trail.

“Just another dozen feet,” she panted.

“Excuse me, miss,” a voice called.

Heather snapped up and looked out to see two people on the trail. One was a short man with a thick dark beard decorated with golden beads. The other was a tall, slender man with a bald head and gray skin.

“Oh, hello,” Heather said.

“Pardon us, but is this the road to the city?” the tall man asked.

“The city?” Heather repeated.

“Aye, we heard the city be a stretch this way,” the dwarf said.

“Oh, the city,” Heather said as she glanced back down her trail.

“You know, you should go to the magical graveyard first,” she said.

“The magical graveyard?” the tall man asked.

“Oh, yes, you should see it. Flowers grow on the gravestones, and birds sing in the trees.”

“We need to be going to the city missy,” the dwarf insisted.

“But it's just over the hill!” I worked so hard on the flowers. Won't you please go see it?” She leaned forward with hands clasped and eyes wide.

The two exchanges glances and the man shrugged. “I suppose we can make a stop to see the magical graveyard.”

“You won’t regret it,” Heather said with a big smile as she stood on her toes.

She watched as they walked down her jagged path and felt a pang of guilt.

“I didn't do anything wrong,” she told herself. “This is a fantasy world. They will respawn and be fine. Besides, Frank could use some visitors.”

She went back to swinging her scythe for just a moment when screams split the air, and a voice called out for help. She started to whistle to drown out the shouts and cries of “Skeletons!” and then “A ghoul!”

“My arm!” the dwarf cried.

“Margus we’re trapped!”

Heather whistled louder and tried to focus on her cutting as the cries finally ended in a bloodcurdling groan.

She kept her head down whistling when another voice startled her so badly she jumped on her toes and dropped the scythe.

“Did you send them down there?”Frank asked.

“Frank! You scared me half to death!” she cried as she bent over to catch her breath.

“Are you cutting a trail?”

She nodded her head panting and turned to look at him. Blood dripped from his teeth and coated his face and chest.

“EEEEEEE!” she screamed, stepping back and tripping over her scythe. She landed on her rear in the grass and covered her face.

“Can you please wash that off!” she yelled, not daring to look at him.

“What? The blood?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“I’m a ghoul,” he stated.

“I know you're a ghoul!” she snapped. “But I don't want to see you covered in the blood of the people I just tricked to go into your graveyard.”

“You tricked them into going in there?”

“Yes! Well, no, I mean, maybe. Will you just go wash that off!”

“Fine, I will go wash it off,” he said with a shake of his head.

She laid in the grass panting heavily as her guilt ran wild in her head.

“This is not my fault! I didn’t want to be here! I am only playing by the rules! They are not actually dead. They will respawn.”

When she felt it was safe to look, she pried her fingers away from her face and stood back up. With a resigned sigh, she picked up her scythe and resumed cutting the last few feet of her path.

“There, now all I need is a sign,” she said with a puff.

“Is this better?” Frank asked.

She carefully turned to look and saw his gray rubbery skin and yellow eyes but no blood.

“Better,” she said.

“So you sent them to the graveyard?

She put a hand to her face. “I just wanted to help you get more experience.”

“Well, it worked. They had some gold on them too. I will split it with you.”

“Great,” she said in shame. “I sent two people to their deaths and profited from it.”

“What are you wearing?” he asked.

She took her hand away and looked at her outfit. “What? It’s a sundress and bonnet.”

“You look like you should be in an old musical,” he laughed.

“It's an appropriate outfit for a sunny day in the garden!” she snapped.

“Whatever you say,” he laughed.

She glared at him a moment before turning back to her dilemma. “I need wood for a sign.”

“You really think a sign will help?”

“I'm not going to stand out here all day sending people to be eaten,” she protested. “At least if there is a sign I don't have to feel directly responsible.”

“There is an old wooden shield in my tunnels,” he suggested. “I found it on the trail.”

“A shield is round.”

He shook his head. “This one is square and about the size of your panel.”

Heather shrugged. “Let’s go get it.”

They walked back to the graveyard, and Heather stopped at the gate.

“Why is their blood all over the ground?”

“Because I beat those two adventurers,” Frank said innocently.

“Uuugh!” Heather groaned as she turned her head. “Are their bodies in the crypt?”

“I buried them in a grave already,” Frank said.

Heather inspected the ground looking for a way to walk to the mausoleum without stepping in blood.

“Why don’t I just get it and bring it out here,” Frank suggested.

Heather didn’t argue and moved away from the gates to wait.

Frank arrived a few minutes later with the shield. It was made of five sturdy wooden planks held together by narrow bands of metal with a leather grip on one side.

“This will do nicely,” Heather exclaimed as she held it up. “All we need is something to write with.”

“I have some chalk,” Frank replied. “Adventurers carry chalk to mark tunnels they have been down.”

“Perfect,” she said with a smile.

Frank walked off to get the chalk, and Heather carried the shield back to the road. She set about gathering a pile of rocks and stacked them into a mound beside her little trail and set the shield on it. Frank arrived with the chalk, and she scrawled a message over the wooden surface.

“Amazing magical graveyard this way!” she wrote in big letters and then added an arrow to point the way.

“You really think this will work?”

“It can’t hurt,” Heather said with a pleased smile.

She looked up as the sun started to move and took its noon position.

“I need a drink,” she said as she wiped her brow.

“I can show you where the stream is,” Frank offered.

“Don’t you have bottled water?”

She knew from the way his head twisted and stared at her that he didn't.

“So I have to drink from a stream?”

“It’s what most people drink,” he replied.

With a sigh, she picked up her panel, and he led her to the stream. It was outside the graveyard and down a little slope. The shore was stony, and the water was clear as it splashed over the rocks.

Heather felt so thirsty she didn’t waste time cupping her hands and scooping up the water.

“Uhh,” she sighed. “I had no idea I was so thirsty.”

She got back to her feet and straightened her sunbonnet.

“What are you going to do for food?” Frank asked.

“We have apples,” Heather replied as she picked up her panel.

“The apples are half a days walk away, and you can’t eat apples forever.”

Heather hadn’t considered that. She wondered if maybe there were other fruit trees, or maybe berries in the forest.

“I suppose I can’t order a pizza?”

“No, you can't,” Frank said as he folded his arms.

“What does everybody else eat?”

“You can get proper cooked food in the city. Most adventurers have dry rations on them. Sometimes they have fresh food if they have just left a town.”

“Oh,” she said as she nodded. “Did those adventurers have any food?”

“A little,” he remarked.

“Then I will eat that.” She was pleased with her quick resolution to the problem and turned to go back to the graveyard.

They walked back as she studied her panel and made some choices.

“What are you doing now?”

“I am going to disguise the graveyard,” she said.

“Disguise it?”

“It needs to look inviting,” she replied as she tapped a button. A puff of smoke later and she floated in her golden sprite avatar. “Just watch.”

She floated to the fence of the graveyard and blew into her hands, showering the ground with green glitter. As before vines and flowers sprang up and climbed the fence. In moments the fence was a wall of green with splashes of color.

She tiptoed in the air along the edge of her trail, causing the grass to thicken and bloom with blue flowers. When she was done, there was a path flanked by thick bushes and flowers fit for a royal garden.

“There, nobody will know it’s dangerous until it’s too late,” she said with a smile.

“You are abusing the new player system,” Frank said.

“How am I abusing it?”

“You keep changing your class to make use of the powers. You’re meant to pick one class and stick with it.”

“They made a system where I could try things. They are to blame if I go ahead and try them.”

Frank shook his head again as she tapped at her panel.

“Hmm,” she said as she swiped options. “I could be a witch?”

“I guess you could, that would even fit in with the graveyard.”

“I want to be a good witch, and brew love potions,” she said.

“I don't think there is such a thing as a good witch. You could be a sorceress, though.”

Heather tapped the name into the search and smiled at description.

“I will add that to maybe,” she said.

“I can't believe how long you're taking to pick a class.”

“I want to pick something I am happy with,” she said. “If I am going to be stuck here, I want to make it as pleasant as possible.” She tapped at the panel and floated up the path to the road.

“Where are you going?”

“I am going to watch the road,” she replied. “You wait in the graveyard.”

She tapped a button and was engulfed with smoke turning back into her usual self. She wore her sundress and bonnet with the blue ribbon and smiled at her appearance. Walking to the side of the road, she noticed the scythe in the grass and picked it up. She stood on her toes and looked down the road seeing nothing of interest.

“Well, this is boring,” she said with a sigh. She looked down the empty road as a thought grew in her head. “Maybe I could take a little walk?” She paused to consider how safe that was. “Come on Heather,” she scolded herself. “Just over the next hill to see if there’s anybody out there.” She looked down at her panel and pondered picking something more powerful. “No, being level zero is safer,” she decided. “Besides, I won’t go too far.”

She considered the panel in her hands and decided to hide it in the brush along her trail. Once she was satisfied it was safe she set off down the road.

Half an hour later, she noticed three people off the road standing by a tree. She walked across the field to see if she could send them franks way. One was in metal armor with no helm and short dark hair. He appeared to be playing a handsome human with a perfect smile. Another was a tall elf with chiseled features and bright blue eyes. The last was some kind of wooden creature half as tall again as the elf. It wore well-tailored leathers and had a smooth varnished look to its skin. Despite being wood, he was a muscled wall of perfect masculinity.

“Hello!” she called as she came near.

The three looked up at her and glanced between one another.

“What is that?” the elf asked.

“It looks like a waste of a good tent,” the man laughed.

“It doesn’t even show her legs,” the wooden giant added.

Heather stopped in her tracks as she realized they were making fun of her.

“Hey, that isn’t very nice!” she said as she planted her hands on her hips.

“Did they offer people more XP to dress ugly?” the elf laughed.

“She must not be able to afford a proper dress,” the man added. “So she made one out of a table cloth.”

They all bent over roaring with laughter.

“You're a bunch of jerks!” Heather shouted. “There is nothing wrong with my dress!”

“If you don't mind looking like a character from a children's book,” the human roared.

“Look at that ridiculous hat!” the elf added.

Oh!” Heather snapped. “Fine! I was going to invite you to my garden but never mind!”

“She must be playing a peasant!” the wooden giant balked. “She certainly has the outfit for it!”

“You have no manners!” she shouted as she waived the scythe at them.

“Oh no!” the elf cried. “She's going to cut our lawns!”

Heather shook and turned around, stomping off as they laughed at her.

“Don't worry. I am sure that will come into fashion someday” the elf called after her.

She stomped all the way back to her sign beside the road and kicked it over.

“Stupid boys!” she yelled. “This is a charming outfit!”

She looked down at her toppled pile and decided to fix the sign.

“I may as well make it taller,” she said as she stacked the rocks.

She spent the next hour, piling up stones and creating a taller post. She set the sign in place and adjusted it so that it was easily read. Then she looked down the road and saw the three men coming.

“Jerks!” she groaned and went to stomp off when she remembered her panel. An idea hatched in her brain, and she swept the panel up and pulled open her previous builds. With a devilish smirk, she pushed a button and vanished into a cloud of smoke

The three men walked down the road and stopped when Heather called out.

“Well, well, well. Where are you three handsome men going?” she cooed as she batted her fiery eyes.

The three men stopped and gawked at all the red skin on display. Heather absentminded played with her lower lip while rotating her hips.

“A succubus!” the elf cried.

“A rare beauty,” the man said. “I bet she wants some company.”

Heather tossed her head and strutted down the trail swaying her hips and tail as she went. She glanced over her shoulder to see the men pointing from the road and begin to follow her.

“Men!” she growled and picked up her pace.

She stormed through the gates of the graveyard and found Frank beside the mausoleum.

“You said you weren't going to play that?”

“Shut it!” she cried as she stomped by. “I am being followed by morons, be sure to give them a warm welcome.”

“I thought that made you feel guilty?”

“Oh, I don't feel guilty about this one,” she said as she stormed into the mausoleum.

A moment later, she heard shouts of alarm and smiled as one of them cried “ghoul!”

“Serves them right!” she said to herself. “Making fun of me for being dressed appropriately. If you won't be nice to a lady unless she's naked you deserve to be eaten by ghouls.” She tapped through her panel and returned to the form that felt most natural.

She sat on the steps poking through her options as the cries died away. She was angry and glad they fell for her trap. If people were going to be so rude maybe she didn’t want to go to the city. Maybe she was better off playing out here with Frank?

She let out a sigh and shook her head. To stay here, she needed to play something that worked well with him. She realized her golden sprite was a bad choice, and so were most of the others. But the choices that did work well wouldn't be welcome in the city. contemporary romance

“Maybe?”

She smiled and swiped a screen open to look at a character she built earlier.

“Maybe I can do both.”

done.co


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