Heather the Necromancer

Heather covered her eyes as a bright blue light bathed her in its brilliance. She squinted while walking toward it, feeling a sense of trepidation that these steps would be her last. A voice called her name as if from far away as the blue light enveloped her. She awoke with a jerk from the dream to find she was in her little room. The sun's rays filtered through the blue tiles of the stained glass window, falling on her face in a mosaic of cool tones.

She yawned and looked around as if hoping it would be her room in the real world. Her scythe rested against the wall beside the dresser, where she always left it. Her mirror and some of her perfumes lay on top beside the strange amulet from the tower. A chair stood in the corner with her red dress hastily thrown over it. Behind it was the wardrobe where the rest of her outfits hung.

“What a funny dream,” she said with another yawn. She put her arm up to block the light from the window as she wondered about moving her room.

With a long stretch, her feet came to the floor, and her body reached high to straighten out. Quinny called from outside as usual, and she smiled at the woman's inability to understand sleep.

“I suppose I was already up,” she sighed and went to the dresser. She quickly brushed her hair and then went to the wardrobe to select the simple yellow dress she often wore. Quinny called her name again as she struggled to get dressed and then went to hurry from the room. She paused in the doorway to look back at the amulet. On impulse, she picked it up and put it around her neck before heading for the stairs.

Breanne's room looked empty as she passed on her way to the ground floor. The tower was dark and gloomy, but enough light made it through the narrow windows to see. Her bone knight stood at attention at the door, guarding the lowest floor against unwanted guests.

“Open the door, please,” Heather said with a pleasant tone.

The skeleton nodded and quickly pulled the door open so she could step outside. The sun was still in the morning position, and a gentle breeze ruffled her hair as she walked into the cold morning air. She quickly descended the three steps to the yard, where the rest of her skeletons stood in a line right before the door.

She was pleased to see that they were all a little taller now, and each carried a rusted sword. She found the option to upgrade them in the panel a few days ago, and now they were roughly twice as strong as before. Not one of them moved as she walked passed them to find Quinny and Frank standing at the gate between her yard and graveyard.

“Finally,” Quinny said. “You sleep more than the dead.”

“Oh, ha, ha,” Heather said as she walked up. “I happen to enjoy a good night's sleep.”

“It’s almost noon,” Quinny said. “The sun will move any second now.”

Heather glanced up a moment, and sure enough, the sun suddenly moved to its noon position. The shadows around them vanished, and she felt the sudden warmth as it baked away the mornings chill.

“I must have stayed up late,” Heather remarked. “I was searching through my panel.”

“What for?”

Heather looked down at her Tattoo and fought a nervous twitch to rub it.

“I was looking for any options we might have missed. I want to be sure there isn’t something more useful I can do with it.”

Frank tilted his head to the side as a ridge of skin rose over his eyes like a furrowed brow.

“Stop that,” Heather said to make the disturbing ridge go away. When he changed his expression, she continued.

“I keep discovering things I could be doing or learning. I should have spent a lot more time exploring it already,” she added with a strain in her voice.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You seem agitated.”

“I'm fine. I just had a strange dream,” Heather replied.

“Strange how?’

Heather thought back to the blue light that blinded her eyes. “It was just the light in my eyes. It was coming from the window in the tower.”

He clawed slightly at the ground with his long nails as if thinking about her answer. Truth be told, she wasn't sure what that dream was. She assumed it was the light from the window intruding on her sleep as she woke up, but that moment felt real, and strangely, missing? The thought was tucked away as an impossibility, and she focused on the others.

“So, what was so important I couldn’t sleep the day away?”

“There are traveling merchants on the road,” Quinny said.

“Merchants?” Heather repeated with sudden interest.

“Yeah, they have three wagons of stuff. They were headed for the spawns to sell things to new players,” Quinny said. “Breanne is talking to them while we ran back to wake you.”

“Do they have any food?” Heather asked as she brushed her dress out.

“I dunno, go and find out,” Quinny suggested.

“Don’t you two want anything?” Heather asked.

Frank shook his head. “We didn't think they would stay if Quinny or I approached them. That's why Breanne is talking to them; she looks normal in her elven form.”

Heather nodded and turned back to the tower. She kept a small amount of coin in the chest in her room and quickly ran inside to fetch it. When she got back, Frank gave her a handful of gold more to buy whatever she wanted.

She thanked him and ran down the forest trail to find the road. A few minutes later, she saw the colorful wagons through the trees. They looked more like little houses on wheels with rounded roofs and windows on the sides. There was even a smokestack sticking out of one of them. They were all brightly painted in shades of yellow, green, red, and gold. Bundles of goods hung in nets, or bags, or lashed to the sides with ropes decorated every wagon. Each was pulled by two horses who had colored ribbons tied in their manes.

Breanne was there in her dark gown, looking over a silver tray that a man was holding. There appeared to be six men and two women all in colors to match the wagons. The men wore tall hats that ended in narrow points and reminded her of witches. The women had long hair woven with ribbons and smiled widely.

“This is the finest smith work of the star sea elves,” the man was saying as Breanne examined the tray.

“Good, you're not dead?” Breanne stated as Heather arrived panting.

“I was asleep,” Heather gasped out. “Thank you for sending them to wake me.”

“You sleep more than anyone I have ever known, and I have known some very old and tired people.”

“I was up late,” Heather argued and stood up straight.

Breanne huffed and waved the man off. “Have you anything in crystal?”

The man nodded and went to the lead wagon and crawled inside.

“Do they have any food?” Heather asked.

Breanne looked to one of the men standing nearby.

“Do you have any food stocks?”

“Of course, my Lady,” the man said with a bow. “We have rations that will last a year.”

“Rations?” Heather repeated. “What is that?”

“Dried and often salted foods for adventurers,” Breanne replied. “You usually don’t have to cook it, and it will last for months if not years without spoiling.”

“Oh, the dry stuff the adventurers have,” she said as she understood. “Do you have anything fresh?”

“We have apples, fair lady,” the man replied with a slight bow.

“No, thank you,” Heather said with a sour face. “Let me see the rations.”

They brought out several small barrels filled with bags of hard bread, dried fruits, and salted meats. One of the women came over to explain how the food was prepared and preserved. They then showed her something called hardtack that looked and smelled unpleasant, but they insisted would keep her fed and healthy.

“I would kill for a pie,” Heather remarked as she sniffed a block of the substance. It had the texture of stone and would likely be harder than one.

They finally produced something that made her partially excited when they opened a barrel of pickles.

“I want a dozen of those,” Heather said as Breanne looked over some glass goblets.

Next, she asked for soap, and thankfully they had a wide assortment. One of the women made soaps, candles, and incense. Heather bought bags of each and added them to a pile beside the road. They had a tool to start a fire by striking a stone with a metal rod. They called it a flint and steel and showed her how it worked. Heather was sure that the name was familiar but couldn’t place where she heard if from. She bought one just in case and added it to her pile.

They had an assortment of bags, backpacks, and bedrolls. She bought a few bags but decided against a pack. There were a dozen of them in the tower from fallen adventurers already. She then discovered that they had some dresses like the ones the women wore. The skirts of the dress were a mess of oranges and earth tones with black lines. She held one up to guess at its size, and the woman assured her it would fit, so that too went on the pile. Over the next hour, she piled up items from books she might read to cooking pots and wooden utensils. She even bought two ceramic jars to hold flowers.

When all was said and done, Breanne bought some crystal cups and a pitcher. She also purchased a soft-bristled brush for her hair and some ribbon to tie it. Heather, on the other hand, had a pile fit for a queen. The merchants joked about turning back to reload before going on to spawn. They asked Heather if there were any items she would like them to bring back.

She gave them a list, and they smiled graciously as she paid them. It was as they were packing up one of them made a remark that turned Heather's head.

“All that necromancer mumbo jumbo must have been a rumor,” one of the men said.

Heather's heart began to race as Breanne shot her a narrow-eyed glance. She tried to remain calm and walked up to the man who had spoken.

“Excuse me. What was that you said about a necromancer?”

The man turned around with a smile and tipped his hat back. “Theirs a rumor going around the north that a dangerous necromancer has resurfaced in these parts. Some paladin and a few adventurers say they ran into her.”

Heather froze but tried to look calm. She realized they were talking about her, and she quickly acted on a plan.

“Those people are talking about me,” she said boldly. “They think I am a necromancer.”

All the men and women at the wagons looked up in alarm, and even Breanne went wide-eyed.

“I am a flower singer and a recluse,” she continued. “I have a friend who came in before me, who is a monster player. He plays a ghoul, and he gave me this necklace,” she said, pulling the chain around her neck to show the skull emblazoned charm. “I was wearing it while traveling with him when I ran into the others. They saw him and the necklace and assumed I had to be a necromancer and summoned him.”

“But you're a flower singer?” the man asked.

Heather nodded and turned to the side of the road. She sang a gentle tune that caused flowers to bloom along the roadside.

“You see,” one of the women barked. “Fools jumped to conclusions.”

“But they paladin was so sure,” the man said. “He said his weapon passed through her.”

“Does she look like a necromancer to you?” the woman snapped as she pointed to Heather in her sunny yellow dress.

“Well, no,” the man began. “But how did she survive his sun strike?”

“She absorbed it,” Breanne replied for her.

Heather went mute as the others looked at her with shock.

“Flower singers are a nature class, and like the others, she can absorb radiant attacks,” Breanne added.

“Ah, of course,” another man said as he nodded his head. “That must be it. No wonder she walked out unharmed.”

“Fool paladin fell for it and cried necromancer to cover his shame,” a woman added. “Next he’ll be claiming dragons attacked him.”

“I guess that does explain it,” the first man said. “Too bad, though, would have been good for business. Lot's of adventurers far from a town crawling about and needing supplies.”

“I didn't mean to cause such a fuss,” Heather said. “I was just walking down the road with Frank when that man accused me of being a necromancer. I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't listen to me.”

“Oh, pay it no bother,” the woman replied as she climbed up to the seat of the wagon. “People are always claiming there's a necromancer or other danger lurking in the shadows. Just last month, there was a rumor that a hydra was living in the sewers or Ethelwin.”

“And there were giants in castle thunder cliff,” another man added.

“Castle isn't big enough for one giant to sit down in, but the stories made it sound like a whole army was on the walls,” the woman laughed and looked directly at Heather. “So you live out here with your friends because of one of thems a ghoul player?”

Heather nodded. “He’s hiding in the woods because he didn’t think you would like him to come close.”

“Sad to say, most of us do feel that way. Bad blood between normal and monster players, but you're sweet to stand by your friend. We will keep you in mind if we come back this way, and try to bring you something fresher than rations to eat.”

“Thank you,” Heather said with a smile.

Heather waved as the wagons moved off and waited until they were safely down the road before she had her nervous breakdown.

“People are spreading rumors about me!” she gasped. “They will be coming then!”

“Calm yourself,” Breanne insisted. “You did amazing there. Those people are going to spread the story of how a flower singer was mistaken for a necromancer. It will take a lot of the strength out of the rumor.”

Heather felt dizzy and had to put a hand to a tree to steady herself. “I wasn't even a necromancer when that paladin attacked us. He couldn't hurt me because I was a zero level player.”

“Then you told the truth,” Breanne said. “Even better.”

“It wasn’t the truth!”

“It was from a certain point of view,” Breanne pointed out. “You were not a necromancer, and the woman they attacked did indeed absorb that spell as far as they were concerned.”

“What do I do if people come looking for me?”

“You do what you just did, explain that Frank is a friend of yours, not your summoned pet. If needs be, I will play the role of a celestial archer, and back you up.”

Heather raised a brow and looked to Breanne. “Whats a celestial archer?”

“Its a type of wizard who casts spells by firing arrows. Only certain types of elves and fey can pick the class; it is rather rare.”

“How are you going to pretend your one of them?”

Breanne smiled and held out a hand. Silver light formed in her palm, and she closed her fingers around it as it raced up and down, forming the graceful arms of a bow. A thin silver line flashed into being between the curved tips, and she gently tugged at it.

“That was amazing,” Heather said. “So, you are an archer?”

“No, I am a shadow weaver, but I have a magical bow I received as a gift a long time ago. I can't cast spells through it, but I can play the part to the casual onlooker. I have been practicing with it for several years now, and I am a rather good shot.”

Heather nodded but thought of the logical next question. “What if somebody suspects I am chosen and have a third class?”

“We will deal with that when it happens,” Breanne said. “With any luck, nobody will look too closely until you have amassed more power.”

“What good is one necromancer going to be if an army of people come down the road?”

“I don't know,” Breanne said. “The necromancer kings stood together, and they were defeated. All we can do is hope to fend off any smaller groups, and run if a larger force appears.””

“Frank and Quinny would have to start over someplace else,” Heather said.

“Better they do that than have it all burned and be reset.”

Heather nodded and looked at her pile of goods.

“I suppose I should get this into the tower.” She closed her eyes and spoke a quick chant that ended with “come to me.”

A few minutes later, her skeletons walked out of the trees, and she put them to the task of carrying the things back to the tower. They did the job silently and without complaint, as she pondered the encounter.

Frank warned her that if people knew she was a necromancer, they would come looking for her. It was foolish to think that paladin would keep the secret, and who knows what the three from the goblin village were doing. Moon was always in the back of her mind as well, like a shadow waiting to pounce. Frank was right; Moon would be back to try again, and her second attempt would likely be worse than her first. contemporary romance

Every day the threat of being what she was seemed to grow larger. If rumors were spreading, then people hunting for the reward would be coming. Sooner or later, somebody was going to challenge her; she needed to find a way to be ready and meet that challenge.

As her heart started to settle she was suddenly jarred by a loud blarring beep.

Beep! [Deception skill +1]

“I hate that noise!” Heather growled as Breanne started to laugh.

done.co