Heather the Necromancer

The sky was sunny and clear, warming the stones of the balcony. Heather sat crosslegged on the couch as she studied the mysterious book. The translation key sat beside her as she checked symbols over and over to be sure they were right.

A gentle breeze blew, giving her some relief from the day's stagnant heat. The tower proved to be very effective at becoming stiflingly warm on a sunny day, the stone walls soaking up the sunlight readily. She tried to mitigate this by growing thicker vines over the surface, and it helped a little, but only a little.

“Maybe there's a spell for air conditioning in here,” she mused as she reached the midpoint in a page. It was a fascinating discussion on the nature of death in the game and how no matter what the circumstance, a player was never truly dead. They existed somewhere at all times; all that ever changed was where that current location was. To her surprise, the necromancers had identified three alternate states of being outside of what they called, physical life. They had data to suggest there were as many as seven states, and perhaps a few more that existed but were inaccessible to players. They theorized that this is where the visitors were watching from.

The book was rather boring when it began to hypothesize about the nature of these layers of reality and how the various energy fields related to them. Still, it was stressed how vital this information was to a necromancer and the use of their powers. As stated the page before necromancers manipulate the next higher state, drawing power from that level to this one. Summoned undead were infused with said power, making them walking fragments of the world beyond.

This seemed to be true for NPC undead only. Player undead behaved like other players with one notable exception. Normal players drew power from something called the flame, and undead players from an equally mysterious shadow. These two sources of power flowed through all the layers in various strengths and gave the layers their properties. There was a hint at an idea that the flame and shadow were somehow not only interrelated but part of a single large whole. No further elaboration on that topic was to be found here, and it was presented as a theory only.

None of that made any sense to Heather as she pondered where, a dissertation on beings being of two worlds at once, was going.

Beside her, a furry bundle moved as Webster made a soft squeal that she understood as a yawn. He was a funny spider, always sleeping someplace nearby but never in a web. He hardly ever produced a web at all, and then only to drop from the ceiling to the floor. He preferred to crawl everywhere, or in some cases, jump like a cat. He was a surprisingly capable jumper, able to leap from the floor to the ceiling above. She had seen him leap from the balcony to a tree below to chase after a crow.

Frank said he was a jumping spider, and when Heather mocked the name, he explained the difference. She never knew that some spiders didn't make webs, preferring to stalk and hunt prey like a cat. In fact, the way he liked to jump, sleep, and hunt was all very cat-like. If she allowed it, he would curl up in her lap and purr away for hours, further mimicking a feline pet. contemporary romance

She smiled at the furry beast and moved on to the next line of the translation. Thankfully some of the symbols were becoming familiar, and she recognized several on this line. Slowly she filled in the blanks as the text began to describe how to speak to the other side. She envisioned a crystal ball sitting on a table in a room filled with incense smoke. She would wear layers of scarves, rings, and bracelets as she peered into the ball, calling on the spirits to answer her.

The reality of it appeared to be a specially prepared circle and the skull of the being you wished to speak to. The skull was vital to establish the link to a specific being and part of the components to draw them to this layer.

“I am disappointed,” she muttered as she finished the line. “I don’t even need incense. Didn’t the visitors watch any of our movies?”

Beside her, a soft purr escaped the woolly spider, and she gave him a scratch on the head. He settled into a tighter ball, pulling his legs underneath himself as he sunned.

The next page showed drawings of the circles and notes on alignments and placement of the skull. It contained a warning about trying to use the skull of a player who had already respawned, stating that you would get an NPC copy of the player who would be very confused.

“How would I have a respawned player's skull?” Heather mused. “Frank said the bodies vanish when they respawn.” The break in logic eluded her, so she pressed on with the reading, determined to understand how it worked.

She learned two more things as she neared the bottom of the page. The time to speak to the dead would be limited, and the skull would be consumed in the process, collapsing to dust, forever lost. The spirit could also lie if it wanted to, and could not always be trusted. There were some notes on necromancers killing willing players to then speak to them on the other side. This was done for research purposes, but the notion of doing so still sounded ghoulish.

“Why would they want to do that?” Heather asked to nobody in particular. She set that mystery aside and focused on the notes about the circles. There were three types ranging from simple and easy to make, to elaborate, time-consuming, and expensive. The cheap circle would last long enough to ask a single simple question. The middle circle would allow for a minute of dialog at best. The last circle could be fueled with extra bones to allow for many minutes of exchange. There was even a way to prepare the dust used with something called Auriel Sommatonus that would force the summoned spirit to answer truthfully, but would shorten the duration considerably. It was only to be used with the most powerful circle and by an experienced necromancer. In all cases, the book suggested you know in advance what your questions are, and you make them as short and concise as possible. A question left open to interpretation was often answered poorly, and yes or no questions were the most accurate.

There was a strange footnote that NPC's often behaved like confused players when spoken to in this way, sometimes exhibiting strong personalities and a desire to end the cycle. There was a further notation about a book dedicated to the research of the cycle. Toppens guide to the nature of resurrection, secrets of the cycles of Eden.

“We should have looked for a library in that city,” Heather muttered. “But then I had no idea I would need more books. I bet this thing is full of notations and references to other books I don’t have.”

Webster didn't respond, so she reached her arms up in a long stretch. Her eyes went to the perimeter of her graveyard where Quinny's trees now offered a thin shield between her and the distant hills. Anybody who wanted to attack had to pass through the forest, and in doing so, alert the ever watching zombie girl.

It had been several days since the attack, but she still rubbed at her shoulder absentmindedly as if the arrow was there. She was grateful they failed, but those long minutes of her tower being invaded haunted her thoughts. Frank was sure they would be back and likely with more help. Her tricks wouldn't work as effectively the second time, and she would need a stronger defense.

She smiled and looked up to see a winged stone statue perched above. Her Gargoyle was the weakest of it's kind but had a plethora of upgrade options. When she had the points, many of them would go into making it stronger. She also wanted to add to the traps outside the tower, slowing an attacker down to stall for time. Her options for outside were sparse, but she liked the idea of keeping them out all the same.

For now, all she could do was fill the yard with a thick fog that the skeletons could see through. She would also remember to give them howl from the grave in the future, so when they attacked from the mist, they would be stronger. Her flower singer had more options that would work in the yard. She could summon bushes of thorns with long curled branches. These would flail out at any nearby intruder lashing at them with long delicate stems full of thorns. They were aptly named thorn whip bushes, and a few well-placed ones could be useful to delaying an enemy. She could even go as far as to summon small wooden humanoids that functioned more or less like zombies, charging in mindlessly to beat enemies with fists. These would only last a short while and were best used only when an attack was underway.

Her eyes went to the book beside her, and a thought blossomed in her mind. She wondered if there were secret and hidden spells for the flower singer. Surely there must be, but how would she learn them? Was there a book for the flower singer as well? That thought fluttered about her head a moment before she went back to the book she had. Somewhere inside was power enough to defend herself from the dangers of this world, she hoped.

As she studied the circles, a sound caught her ear, turning her head. The ravens that guarded the yard flew up, cawing loudly, alerting her to the presence of an intruder. She turned to the skeleton standing beside the door in alarm and quickly barked an order.

“Take the book and put it the chest in my bedroom.”

The skeleton didn't respond except to take the book from her hands and walk away. She watched it go a second and then turned back to the stone railing of her balcony. A twinge of fear crawled up her spine to consider looking over the side and exposing herself. She was three floors up, but many classes could fly, and even more, could fire arrows or spells from below.

A whistling yawn from Webster made her jump and silently scolded herself for being so fearful. Carefully she crept to the railing and peeked into the yard below. A few skeletons were milling about the gravestones, clearly not alerted to any danger. She leaned over the edge to look directly below and saw nothing but her special tree and the flowers growing outside the back door.

“The ravens must have reacted to something,” she said as she searched the yard for anything out of place. One of the skeletons shuffled a dozen feet, moving closer to the fence, but appeared just to be wandering. “The skeletons aren't alarmed, so why are the ravens?”

There was a thump behind her that made her flinch.

“Webster, be quiet,” she muttered only to hear him in her mind insisting it wasn’t him.

She turned to question the spider to find him sitting right where he had been before. He looked up with a twinkle in his eyes and patted the air with his front legs.

“It wasn’t you?”

The spider stood and twisted its body back and forth in a no. She went to question him again when there was another thump from inside the tower.

“It must be Frank or Breanne,” Heather said as she stared through the doorway into the room beyond. Her mind began to wonder if somebody could have gotten past the defenses and into her tower.

“Of course they could,” she said in frustration. “I am sure more classes than the banshee can walk through walls, and Frank said rogues could turn invisible.” As she thought about it, she became sure that was how the rogue in the city vanished before her eyes. Now she worried he had found her somehow and was inside her tower waiting in ambush.

“Don't be silly, he would have to walk here, and that would take over a week,” she insisted to soothe her nerves. For all she knew, there was a way to rapidly fly here, or teleport, or something she didn't even know about.

There was another noise from deep inside, and Heather grew irritated. This was her home now, and nobody was going to invade it and get away with it.

“Come, Webster,” she said defiantly and stormed into the tower. She boldly made her way to the inner hall and listened intently. There was a faint clicking sound from the left, and she quickly strode off in that direction. She came to the stairs up and paused to listen again before going up. Somehow whoever was in her tower had gotten upstairs already. This suited her just fine. Her bone knight stood guard just inside the door to her room. If anyone wanted to cause her trouble, he would be at her side in an instant to lop off a head.

“Hmm, then I could practice the speak with the dead spell,” she mused as she arrived on the fourth floor of the tower. A ticking sound caught her ear, and Webster silently crept past her as if stalking a mouse. She followed him down the hall, finding it challenging to be as silent as the spider.

The doors of this floor were all open, indicating that somebody was indeed here. She wondered if getting Frank and the others would be a prudent decision. What if it was another group of people looking for her? If she could reach her bedroom and use the mirror, she would know, but the bedroom was passed the intruders now. As she pondered the thought, Webster peered into the first open doorway, and an image came to her mind. She saw her yellow sunbonnet shuffling about the room and inch off the floor as if it was alive.

Heather looked down at the spider in the doorway with a raised brow, but Webster offered no insight. She crept to the door and looked inside herself to see the bonnet moving around a corner near a simple wooden chair.

“What in the world?” she muttered at the strange sight.

The hat suddenly twisted around, revealing a tiny green creature that resembled a goblin with long pointed green ears and a short slotted nose on a triangular face. Its skin was bumpy and covered in sparse dark hair. The creature was barely two feet tall, standing on two short stubby legs. It clutched at the inner edged of the hat, holding it over its head at an angle to hide underneath it.

There was a long pause as the Heather and the creature stared at one another in shock.

“Drop my hat!” Heather yelled when her senses came back.

The strange creature let out a squeal and began to run along the wall of the room, her hat firmly clutched in its hands.

“Webster, get him!” Heather called, sending the spider into a scurry. The creature screeched and ran into a corner as Webster closed in. It looked around as if in a panic, then pulled the hat down over itself and remained motionless. Webster leaped into the air pouncing on the hat and quickly turned it over to reveal nothing underneath.

“What?” Heather said as Webster searched around the toppled hat. “Where did it go?” There was a sound from behind, and she looked down the hall to see the creature run into another room.

“It's out here, Webster,” she said in alarm and raced after it. Her mind tried to puzzle out how it could have gotten behind them as she reached the next door. It was an empty room with a single small table inside and nothing else. She arrived in the doorway to find the creature standing on the narrow lip of the window.

“You stop right there!” she commanded, but the beast squeezed out the narrow window and vanished from sight. She ran to the window that was barely wide enough for her head to see it climbing down the vines. “So that's how you got in,” she said with a smile. “Let's see you deal with this.” Heather held out a hand and began a soft chant, the vines on the wall suddenly began to move, growing thin tendrils that wrapped around the little creature. It began to screech and wail, biting at the vines and tearing them away. She was sure she'd won until the creature suddenly vanished in a tiny puff of smoke.

“No fair!” she shouted and turned about, nearly tripping over Webster. “It just poofed away like that stupid rogue,” she said to the spider. There was a sudden rattling noise, and a sigh escaped her lips. It was back inside the tower, someplace below them.

Down the hall and stairs, she raced, hunting for the elusive pest. On the floor below, she noted a door was open, and a small table was knocked over. Carefully she crept to the intersection and looked to the right into her sitting room that connected to the balcony. She shook her head in annoyance to see a large lump hidden under the rug that ran the length of the room.

“Not very good at hiding,” she said with a smile to Webster.

“Heather?” came Franks's voice from the far end of the hall as he came up the stairs.

“Shhh!” she said as he came down the hall.

“What was that screeching noise we heard outside?” he said in a low voice as he approached.

“There is something in my tower,” she replied. “I keep catching it, but it vanishes and gets away. It's in the next room trying to hide under the rug.”

Frank looked into the room to see the bulge in the rug and carefully made his way in approaching the lump. He grabbed the edge of the rug and tossed it aside to find a pillow from the couch hidden underneath.

“What?” Heather said in surprise as Frank picked it up.

“It’s just a pillow,” he said.

“Then, where is that little pest?” Heather asked, looking around. The creature suddenly leaped out from under the nearby couch with a cry of words that sounded like babbling. It jumped onto Franks back, causing him to swat at it with the pillow. It then dived to the floor and ran at Heather, hands in the air wailing it's babbling cry. She panicked and jumped aside, allowing it to run past her down the hall.

“What was that?” Heather asked as it ran up the stairs.

Frank dropped the pillow as his eyes narrowed in anger.

“A gremlin,” he said sourly. “One of the most annoying creatures in the game.”

“How do we get rid of it?” she asked.

“By making it want to go away,” he replied with a sigh. “Once they choose a place to live, they will refuse to leave.”

“Can’t we catch it and kill it?”

“I have heard of people catching them, but they can blink away.”

Heather gave him a tilted head glance to indicate she wasn't sure what that was, so he elaborated.

“They can teleport a short distance away, something like ten feet. They use it to escape capture and traps, making them near impossible to get rid of. That thing is going to haunt your tower until it decides to go away on its own. They intentionally seek out people to torment, breaking and stealing your things, eating, and spoiling your food. I heard they will even draw on you as you sleep.

“I want it out of my tower!” she demanded.

“It would probably be easier to move,” Frank replied. “This is a high-level monster. They are very hard to beat.”

Heather's face soured, and she looked up as an idea grew in her mind.

“I know how to make it want to go away,” she said and headed down the hall.

“What are you going to do?” Frank asked as he hurried behind her.

“It’s a pest like a bug, so I am going to bomb the tower,” she said.

“How?” Frank asked.

Heather smiled as she reached the steps and turned to Webster.

“Webster dear, would you be so kind as to spread spider silk in the rooms and the outer hall. Make it a crisscrossing pattern like I am imagining. Just do this floor and the one above, then come to the bedroom.”

The spider looked up at her as she held the image in her head. He nodded with his usual bob and ran into the first room to begin his work.

“What are you planning?” Frank asked.

“To make staying here so annoying it will desperately want to leave,” she said as they stormed down the hall. They passed Breanne's room to see things toppled over and clothing from her wardrobe cast on the floor. They reached her room to find it in nearly the same condition with one exception. The bone knight stood in the middle with his sword in hand as if ready to fight.

“It must have been in here, and your knight was chasing it,” Frank said.

Heather sighed to see her hat rack toppled over, and her bed tossed linens tossed about. She went directly to the mirror on the table and sat down, her smile spreading wider.

“You're going to use your mirror to find it?” Frank asked.

“Oh, I intend to do more than that,” she replied as she put a hand to its surface. She commanded the mirror to show her the lower floor and fell into a spell, filling the lower halls with the green mist of grave blight.

“You’re going to gas it out,” Frank said with an approving nod.

She moved on to the second floor and repeated the spell, filling the level with the corrosive mist. On to the third level and she filled the halls again, the fog spilling through open doors into every space. She paused to use the mirror to locate Webster, he had moved on the fifth floor already, so she continued. The fourth floor flooded with the deadly cloud, and she moved back to watching Webster, giving him a few minutes to finish his work. A moment later, the spider shuffled in and climbed up on the bed. Frank shut the door behind it and turned back to watching Heather at the mirror.

“Good, now let's find our little pest,” she said and looked into the mirror. “Show me the gremlin.”

The reflection changed to her bathroom, showing the bench along the wall. A curtain of towels hung over the side, and a single tiny eye peered out from between them.

“There you are,” Heather said with a smile and leaned closer to the mirror. “Boo!”

The voice echoed in the bathroom, startling the creature. It dashed out of it's hiding space, heading for the door before suddenly lurching to a stop. It began to wail and flail about, glued in place by a strand of spider silk.

“Gotcha,” Heather said and fell into her spell, filling the floor with her deadly mist.

“It’s just going to blink away,” Frank said.

“Fine, let it blink, every room but the kitchen and here are filled with gas,” she replied.

There was a croaking wail as the mist engulfed the pest, and it vanished in a puff. The mirror shifted view to Breanne's room, where it arrived in another puff, landing on the bed into more gas. It flailed about again, running in a circle before vanishing once more. The mirror showed the floor below, as the creature arrived in the hall. It took a few steps in the mist, croaking in pain and poofed once more. Now it was in her study, and it saw the open window, but only managed two paces before stepping on another spider web.

“Your devious,” Frank said as he watched from behind her. “That thing won’t come back here ever.”

“Let's make sure,” Heather said and fell into another spell. A moment later, the room filled with bees, causing a screeching wail.

There was a poof of smoke, and suddenly it was in the bedroom. The bone knight exploded into motion, hacking at the blistered, burning creature as it ran about wailing. It leaped like Webster could, diving about the room and toppling everything its path.

“Get out of my tower!” Heather yelled as she tried to aim a rotting bolt at it. The creature was impossibly fast for its size, and her bone knight and Frank kept getting in the way. Webster was able to keep pace with the beast, leaping after it with precision. Twice the spider caught it, but always the pest poofed in a cloud of smoke and appeared someplace else in the room.

Frank nearly had it with a rake of his claws that left lines on the floor. The bone knight hacked away a dozen times but was too slow for the pest. Webster caught it a third time, tackling it in midair and toppling to the ground, trying to web it up. There was another poof, and it was outside the room again, wailing in it's babbling voice.

Heather looked about her ransacked room in annoyance and waited for the pest to return.

[Ding!- Necromancer, level 13! Recluse level 12, Flower singer level 11]

Heather's eyes went wide at the sudden sound, and she looked at Frank alarmed.

“You must have killed it!” he said in shock. “You defeated a gremlin!”

“But I was level eleven?” Heather muttered.

“I told you it was a high-level encounter. It sent you up two levels.”

She turned to the mirror and spoke quickly.

“Show me the gremlin,” she said and sat down.

The mirror showed a fog choked hall, and she quickly dismissed the spell. As it faded, it revealed a pile of ash, at the center of which was a green stone about the size of an egg.

“It turned into a stone?” Heather asked.

Frank shook his head. “No, you killed it, and it left behind its treasure. I am not certain, but I think Gremlins and other pest creatures drop rare magical items. That must be one of them.”

Heather nodded and studied the image in the mirror.

“I wonder what that stone is?”

done.co