Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

3 - First Blood



The battle for Tonberg began in earnest shortly following their successful pincer attack. Sokalar gathered his allies and ordered his legions forward to meet the engorged force of soldiers and priests at the city gates. From mere novices to legendary Dragon Cardinals, King Ricta had spared no expense in levying the priesthood’s full might against the undead horde. His personally-trained knights, wrapped in their grass-coloured tabards, rode upon horses that towered above the average man, twisting silver-tipped lances in their steel gauntlets.

Meanwhile, Hede was quick to move his thralls towards the eastern gate to begin his diversionary attack. While less fortified than the main entrance, he still found himself outnumbered by the archers and ballistas prepared for such a tactic--though his objective was only to divert forces from other areas of the city, rather than achieve a complete victory. His efforts opened the path for Drayya and Lieze to slink through the dark forest towards Tonberg’s northern walls, where the garrison had been partially diverted to ensure Hede’s thralls did not breach the gates.

“The Deathwalkers we raised from the aftermath of that ambush will prove useful in reinforcing our attempt to assault the city’s rear.” Drayya recounted, “A shame we couldn’t have a few hours to prepare. I would have created some truly wonderful specimens from such fresh corpses.”

Lieze could just about hear the girl from the ground, where the forest perimeter had thinned to the point where they were risking being spotted by the guards on the city walls.

“Tonberg’s army is one push away from dissolving completely.” She continued, “One good rattle from our attack, and Ricta will be forced to make a decision--redirect troops from the southern gate or risk allowing us to push into the city? Should he choose the former, the two of us will be in trouble, but the latter will ensure a landslide victory for Master Sokalar… the choice is obvious.”

“What do we do when we’re inside the city?” Lieze asked.

“Flood the residential districts with undead and raise as many new thralls as we can manage on our way to the Master. Of course, you won’t have to worry about that.”

“What about the gates?”

Drayya sighed, “...What are you prattling on about?”

“We’ll lose some of our forces entering the city. There aren’t many soldiers on the walls, but they’ll almost certainly still be manning the catapults and trebuchets.”

“So we lose a few bodies.” She crossed her arms, “I see no other way in, unless you fancy trying to vault the battlements with a pole?”

“Let me open the gate from the inside.”

Drayya blinked. Rather than frustration, her expression was one of utter bewilderment, quickly replaced by an unbelieving, almost joyous smirk, “...And how do you intend to do that?”

“You can cast transmutation magic, can’t you? A meld-into-stone spell would work.”

“You-” Drayya snapped, but quickly regained her composure, “...What are you talking about?”

“I’ve seen you practising transmutation in the marshes before. Don’t you remember that?”

“T-That was when we were children! You know everything but necromancy is forbidden to us!”

“So you can’t?”

Lieze knew that question wasn’t something Drayya could tolerate.

“Of course I can!” She exclaimed, “You want to get yourself killed by the guardsmen? Be my guest! I’ll even bless you with a minor illusion so you aren’t spotted on the way there! But waste any more than ten minutes and I’ll be storming the walls without you.”

Drayya didn’t wait for a response. As she held out a hand which sparkled with cerulean light, Lieze could feel her body changing in some abstract way. It was a rather pleasant sensation when compared to the cold, squirming touch of the Blackbriar. Drayya’s use of transmutation magic meant she was communing instead with the God of Many Faces--a severe breach of the Order’s laws.

“Hurry along, now. If this turns out to have been a waste of time, not even your death will have made up for it.” She spoke, finalising the spell, “-And from the moment we enter the city, I’ll hear no more of your outrageous planning.”

Lieze didn’t need to be told twice. The thin haze surrounding her body was translucent from the inside-out, but as she moved beyond the forest perimeter, the guards atop the battlements were at the very most able to discern a blurry, camouflaged shape. She was able to round the walls to the northern side and approach the gate, where only a handful of soldiers were gathered to defend it.

Her fingers danced along the rough surface of the walls. If she pushed hard enough, she could feel herself becoming one with the cold stone. Making an educated guess as to the location of the portcullis winch, she pointlessly held her breath while stepping straight through--or, rather, into, the city walls. The warm light of a sconce burning on the inner wall greeted her on the way in.

The battlement she’d entered flanked the wrought-iron gate. A ladder ascending to the gatehouse peak caught her attention as she darted her eyes from side to side, worried that a guardsman might spot her at any moment. Lieze climbed the ladder as quietly as she could possibly manage, daring to peek her head through the hole at the top to scan for any royalists.

Only a single soldier occupied the chamber, toting a crossbow against an arrowslit overlooking the front gate. Lieze dropped a hand to her waist, fiddling with the sheathed dagger on her belt and freeing the weapon with a quick movement, before creeping herself up the remainder of the ladder and taking a low stance towards the crossbowman.

She was no assassin, and the soldier towered over her. She stood on the tips of her toes while bringing a hand towards the fellow’s mouth, allowing the dagger to sink cleanly between his ribs as a muffled cry of pain escaped the victim’s mouth. Clumsily, she plumbed his midsection with repeated stabs, struggling to maintain control as he loudly dropped his crossbow to the ground and wrestled with her amateurish grip. Lieze felt globules of spittle staining her hand as blood flew cleanly from the man’s wounds, listening all the while to his rapidly-quieting attempts to call for help.

She was no stranger to death--and not just the actively rotting kind. All sons and daughters of the Order were forced to take the life of another during their initiation. Sometimes that ‘another’ was a member of their own family. Lieze had been groomed from birth to cast aside any feelings of morality for the living. Though her necromancy left much to be desired, the lessons of her father had taken to the girl well.

The crossbowman collapsed with a final rasp towards the wooden floor, blood pooling in the loose crevices between planks. Sheathing her dagger, Lieze marched over to the arrowslit just in time to hear the yells of soldiers from below. A small army of undead were hugging the city walls and rounding themselves towards the gate, just out of Lieze’s sight. She wasted no time in marching over to the portcullis winch, wrapping her bloodied hands around the mechanism and hearing the rusted gate lifting with a terrible screech as she struggled to turn the wheel.

“O-Oi!” A muffled voice exclaimed, “Who’s opening the gate!? You’re going to get us all killed!”

The northern gate, thankfully, was fortified by only a single portcullis, as opposed to the three other entrances which enjoyed two--a consequence of the rarity of travel between the lands of humans and nonhumans. Lieze dropped back down the ladder in time to arrive face-to-face with a number of royalists who had sprinted over to examine the trouble, and a moment later found herself fusing with the outer wall yet again, emerging into the swelling horde of undead prowling the city perimeter.

Drayya wasn’t one to waste such an opportunity. Taking advantage of the confusion, she quickly manoeuvred the majority of her thralls into the city. Lieze watched as the gatehouses and walls were overrun with countless undead, hearing the screams of outnumbered royalists as she passed under the archway just in time to see the portcullis slamming to the ground behind her.

“Lieze!”

Drayya beckoned the girl from further into the city, descending into a tight alleyway while chaos erupted around her. Lieze found herself completely out of breath in the time it took for her to sprint over. Their presence was masked by the whirlwind of death raging around them; defiant screams and orders barking over one-another like the whinging of mutts.

“We can’t afford to waste any time.” She began immediately, “I imagine Master Sokalar will have broken his way through the southern gates by now. If we circle the outer city clockwise, we can overpower the east and allow Graeme the chance he needs to enter.”

“Won’t… hah…” Lieze took a moment to catch her breath, “Won’t most of this area’s garrison be over there? Do we have the numbers?”

“I’m sure you’re used to working around your… limitations, but that isn’t the case for me.” Drayya answered, “As we move, the citizenry of Tonberg shall be our weapon. Any commoner foolish enough to take to the streets will quickly find themselves a part of our wonderful family.”

It was the same tactic Sokalar had used to conquer every other Sovereign City. An undead army was simply unstoppable once a fresh supply of corpses could be exploited--namely, an entire city’s worth.

“Not a word of thanks for opening the gate?” Lieze muttered.

“Oh, yes. Very well done for using my magic to carry out a plan. If only you were capable of raising an army of your own, then we might have flattened the walls with a single attack rather than relying on stealth.”

“Right…” She didn’t have the stamina to argue back, “Let’s move towards Graeme.”

“In just a matter of hours, Tonberg will be in Master Sokalar’s hands.” An uncharacteristic smile made its way onto Drayya’s face, “Imagine the possibilities afterwards--the Dwarves, the Elves… one day, the Order will hold dominion over this entire world. Be certain of that.”

The girl’s insults had tested Lieze’s patience on many occasions, but the enthusiasm in her voice was far from fabricated. Drayya’s superiority complex had only ballooned since their days studying dusty tomes as children. If she truly strained her mind, remnants of a time when the two of them may have been called comrades surfaced. But that chapter of their lives was long over.

The labyrinthine streets of Tonberg gave the Order a unique advantage. Even one thrall could spread panic throughout an entire district, forcing the royalists to spread their forces evenly. A veritable tide of shambling corpses flooded the eastern side of the city, endangering commoners and nobles alike while Lieze and Drayya kept to the backstreets and alleyways in order to avoid detection in the chaos.

“You see how Master Sokalar’s plan is bearing fruit?” Drayya admired, “Soldiers are running from place to place like headless chickens. With so many attacks happening at once, they have no idea where they should go, and that hesitation will be the key to our victory.”

“I’m surprised we haven’t seen any Dragon Cardinals…” Lieze replied, peeking her head around a corner in the alleyway.

“Of course not. Ricta’s knights and the priesthood can’t afford to split their forces to deal with a few measly conflicts. They’re too busy entertaining Master Sokalar’s army.” Drayya explained, “Now, hurry up. The eastern gate isn’t far.”

Lieze’s Gravewalkers and Skeletons were set loose upon the city to cause as much chaos as possible. The most adept of Drayya’s forces--Flesh Elementals, Briarknights and Rot Behemoths, instead accompanied the two closely in their attempt to secure Hede’s entry into the city.

It wasn’t long until they pushed through to the gate in question, wasting no time in taking advantage of the royalists’ lack of mobility on the walls to encircle them from both sides. Flecks of crimson danced in the air as soldiers were torn limb from limb by all manner of undead monstrosities. What few priests had been delegated to their defence couldn’t hope to overcome the horde which had been reinforced by the reanimated corpses of the very citizens they were supposed to be protecting.

Their world--the world of the living, was meeting its end. Men driven to madness by the revelation fought deliriously, unable to tell friend from foe. There was no glory or honour to the combat. Only ecstatic bloodshed.

Lieze busied herself with the portcullis in the chaos, leaping over the dismembered corpses of royalists as she ran through the inner walls. She’d opened the northern herself, so why not the eastern as well? As both gates were slowly raised--the first barely holding together as a result of Hede’s assault, the man walked proudly among the horde of undead which flooded the city shortly afterward. He greeted Lieze and Drayya with a pleased expression while the world ended around them.

“Stellar work, the two of you.” He praised, “Now, before Ricta takes notice, let us carve a path towards Master Sokalar. The priesthood certainly won’t be expecting such a fierce attack from their flank. I expect the main army has already progressed towards the main square, so we should head in that direction.”

Combined, their thralls were a force to be reckoned with. Drayya and Hede were some of the finest necromancers beneath Sokalar in the Order, after all. Lieze couldn’t help but feel that her usefulness was slowly drawing to a close--however ‘useful’ she’d truly been during the attack. As she began marching alongside the undead army, her gaze fell upon the grand towers of Tonberg’s castle atop its central hill.

Whispers escaped from the faraway windows. An inaudible chorus echoed in her head.

YO.. G…D.. .R..E

YO.. G…D.. .R..E

DE..V.R .S F.O. E..L

DE..V.R .S F.O. E..L


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