Heather the Necromancer

“This is your home?” Legeis asked as he looked at a small room full of cobwebs, piles of moldy wood, and a few skeletons. “I guess necromancers like dusty tombs.”

“Heather lives in a tower,” Frank said. “This is some kind of ruin.”

“This room does look familiar,” Quinny said as she walked into it.

“Are you guys kidding me?” Heather asked as she turned around. “This is one of the rooms under the ruined necromancer tower we found the book in.” She flinched as Frank blinked his lidless eyes and looked about.

“You’re right,” he said and scratched at his head. “We’re an hour from home.”

“But it took us days to get there,” Quinny said. “We were only in that place a few hours.”

“Something about that other place must have been magical,” Heather said. “It allowed us to travel the distance in a fraction of the time.”

“Provided time works the same way inside that place,” Legeis added. “For all we know, we were walking for a week in there.”

“It sure felt like it,” Quinny added.

“Must go back!” Umtha interjected. “Take egg home.”

Heather had almost forgotten Umtha in all the excitement and turned to look at the goblin woman. She could see the anger in her narrow eyes as she frowned disapprovingly.

“I promise I will take the egg back,” Heather said. “But since we're here, why not see if our stuff is safe, and get some supplies. You should check on your village and make sure your goblins are safe.”

“We should check on what’s his name with the village,” Quinny suggested. “If anything has gone on, he would likely know about it.”

“His name is Finneous,” Breanne reminded. “And you’re right, we should check on him.”

“Not good leave egg,” Umtha insisted. “Too important.”

Heather went to argue but stopped as a thought dawned.

“What do you mean, its important? What do you know about it?” she asked, looking directly to Umtha.

“Take egg to mother,” Umtha insisted. “Must be born.”

“Uhhuh,” Heather said with a nod. “Why?”

“What mean why? You promise!” Umtha argued.

“And I will take it, but you seem to know why I should. Tell me why it is so important I take the egg now?”

The others turned to watch as Umtha began to twist uncomfortably, dragging a foot on the floor as she seemed to struggle with the reply.

“You know more than you're telling me,” Heather said. “You know what that egg is or what it's for. Why won't you tell me?”

“I promise keep secret,” Umtha said.

“Who did you make this promise to?”

Umtha sighed and walked up to poke Heather in the arm. “You.”

Heather rolled her eyes and threw her head back in frustration. “I need more cookies.”

“I had some right before we left,” Quinny replied as Heather’s stomach growled.

“Be quiet,” she scolded her stomach. “I have enough to worry about. You had two dozen cookies already anyway.”

“So, what should we do?” Frank asked.

Heather looked up from her stomach and took a deep breath. “We go home, check on our lairs, and Finneous. I want to get some things from the tower and summon another guardian.”

“Then what?” he asked.

Heather took a long moment to decide on her answer. On the one hand, she wanted to stay here a few days to recover and do some research. On the other, she needed to return the stone to Gwen and do something about this egg. She supposed it would be weeks before players started returning to the swamps, and the goblins were still protecting it. It would be safe without her looking over it, but she was curious about what role it played. The dragon knights seem to indicate she stole it from them to return it to its mother. Did that make it a dragon egg? Umtha made it sound more mysterious like it was part of some greater purpose in her life. Whatever the reason, she wanted to find out and see where the trail led. There was also the matter of moving. Should they stay here or move to the swamps? It would put her closer to the bookstore, and a modest city that should be nice once players returned. She was also still considering tampering with Gwen's kingdom heart. Should she attempt to make a golem of her own before giving it back? If so, she would need the workshop in the mountains to make it happen.

“We go back,” Heather said at last. “Legeis has no home here anyway. Let's check on our things, and spend a night or two here. Then we go back to the swamps. I will tamper with a golem of my own, then return the stone to Gwen. Then we take the egg and follow the trail. I want to see what other secrets I was part of.”

“Have you considered moving there for good?” Frank asked.

Heather sighed and looked into his dull yellow eyes. “I am thinking about it. I just need a little more time.” He nodded his head, but she could see he wasn't convinced. She wasn't sure what she wanted right now, but a day or two to be still and think about it seemed the best course of action.

“Legeis, I will give you a room in the tower to use until we go back,” Heather added as she turned to address him.

“Fine by me,” he replied as he leaned over from the top of his armor. “But uh, how do I get out of here?”

Heather pointed to the door and realized it was too small for the armor to use.

“Great,” she groaned and slapped her forehead.

“I can dig the doorway open wider,” Frank offered, saving them from the problem. It took nearly an hour for Frank to widen the doorway and the tunnels beyond, but eventually, they crawled out of the cave. Frank led the way through the forest with Breanne scouting ahead in banshee form to look for danger. In short order, they were in the fields, and an hour later, the goblin village beside the stream came into view. Beyond it was Heather's tower, and the graveyard, looking just as they left it.

“It feels strange to be here,” Quinny said. “For some reason, I didn't think we would be back.”

“Thankfully, that magical path brought us home quickly,” Breanne added.

“What about the other paths?” Frank asked, drawing a look from the others. “You know the two paths we couldn't reach.”

“There were two other paths,” Heather agreed as she remembered the crossroads. “But the magic poles were missing so we couldn’t reach them. I wonder where those go?”

“I am in no hurry to find out,” Quinny said. “That pulsing noise they made sounded creepy.”

“That whole place was creepy,” Breanne said. “It was barren of everything but ash, and sounded like it was deep underwater.”

“It did kinda sound like it was underwater,” Frank agreed.

“Whatever that darkness was, even my goggles couldn’t see through it,” Legeis added.

“And it was full of dead paladins,” Heather said. “Why does every path we take lead to more mysteries?”

“I think we have had enough of them for today,” Breanne offered. “Let’s take a night to recover and talk about it tomorrow.”

They approached the village, and Umtha walked in with nothing more to say as Heather led the way to the tower. The graveyard looked untouched, but the front door of her tower was wide open. Inside, the guardian skeletons were dead, so she summoned a hoard from the yard and sent them in first. After an hour of sweeping the tower, they decided it was empty of players. Heather set Legeis up in a room across from Breanne and went to her room to change. She settled on a pink dress with white trims and a matching sun hat. She left her scythe behind and decided to explore the kitchen and check on Monica. Webster scurried behind as she made her way down the steps and down the hall in the back of the tower.

Monica was hard at work, peeling potatoes beside a kettle on the stove. She hummed a little tun swaying her dark-haired head as she worked. Heather was grateful to see her and poked around the kitchen to find something sweet to eat.

“Oh! Hello, my lady. I didn't know you were back,” she said sweetly when she noticed Heather looking in the cabinets.

“Hello, Monica. Do we have any cookies by chance?”

“Cookies?” Monica replied with a raised brow. “I could make you a stew.”

“Is that what you're making now?” Heather asked, looking at the kettle she was laboring over.

“Ah, huh,” Monica replied with a smile. “Vegetable stew, good and hearty.”

“I am so going back to the swamp,” Heather groaned and then noticed the two skeletons guarding the back door. The ones in front were gone, but these had either respawned or been left untouched. “Monica, did other players come into the tower?”

“Yes, several of them did,” she replied. “A nice man with a staff, and then three ladies in armor, oh, and an insect person who was very rude.”

“Rude?” Heather asked.

“Yes, he kept demanding to know where the treasure was and called me a worthless NPC.”

“There isn't any treasure,” Heather replied. “I swear the visitors have no idea that fantasy worlds have treasure.”

Monica shrugged and went back to dicing the potatoes as Heather sighed and went out the back door. She looked up to see the sun was still high in the sky. She pondered what role she had in its current condition as she made her way to the bench under the large oak tree. She took a moment to glance at her magical tree to see it covered in yellow flowers, the mystery fruit on its way.

“Well, we're home,” she said as she reclined on the bench, wondering if maybe she should resummon her bone guardian. At this rank, it would be better summon the ghoul, but she rather liked the skeleton. It felt awkward to have a ghoul when Frank was around, and the skeleton looked more menacing. She wondered if the necromancers focus in the nearby tower could be used to summon another champion, and why she hadn't thought to do it before they left.

“I have too much on my mind,” she sighed as Webster leaped to a low branch of the tree above. He began to stalk a bird higher up as she looked around at the flowers growing behind the tower. “I suppose I could do something normal for a change. I am a flower singer, after all.”

Heather gathered some skeletons and set them to turn over the soil in a bed following the stone path. She knelt on the ground in her pink dress, careful to pull the hem up and not get it dirty. With a gentle voice, she sang to the freshly tilled soil causing green blooms to grow. In moments tall stems reached skyward and blossomed into yellow flowers much like a daisy. She moved around the bed and sang again, bringing up a clump of orange ones beside them. She continued to work until filling the entire bed following the stone walkway the circled her tower.

She adjusted the hem of the sunbonnet and smiled at her handiwork. The yard was still full of graves, but flowers of every kind grew along the paths and around the stones. It filled the entire scene with a vast array of colors that helped occupy her mind. She looked to one of the dead trees and decided to try a flower singer spell, rejuvenate plant. It was supposed to bring a dead plant back to life, even something as large as a tree. She suspected it would work, but this was a tree that was part of the tower's scenery. Could her spell revive a tree that was meant to be dead?

It had a longer cast and required nearly a full minute of singing, but the tree came to life. It filled with green leaves and then small white blossoms as she finished her song. Many of the delicate petals fell to the ground in a gentle breeze like summer snow, filling the air with a sweet fruity scent.

“Umm, excuse me, miss,” came a voice from behind.

She whirled about and came face to face with a tall man in metal plate armor with shinning silver highlights. He had a strong chin with short, dark hair, and an impeccably trimmed mustache. He carried a large kite shield over one arm, emblazoned with a golden lions head, and at his waist was a broad, heavy sword.

“Who are you?” Heather gasped as he stood before her with a slight smile.

“Forgive me for startling you,” he said with a slight bow. “I am Skullman, a paladin of the god Mithenlar.”

“Paladin?” she repeated in alarm as her heart began to beat. She looked around the yard and realized all her skeletons were on the far side where she left them after the digging. For a moment, she wanted to scream for help, but one look at his face made her pause. “You're a Paladin in my yard?”

“Indeed,” he replied with a nod. “I was hoping you could give me some directions.”

Heather nodded in return, the realization that he wasn’t about to attack slowing sinking in.

“I will certainly try. I haven't wandered very much, to be honest. I do know some of the paths between here and the spawn.”

“I know where the spawns are,” he replied with another smile. “I was hoping for help finding someone.”

“Who are you looking for?” she asked as she looked around her yard, not at all threatened by her presence.

“Somebody I heard a rumor about, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?” he asked with a broader smile.

She felt her heart starting to beat faster and not out of fear. It wasn't fair how handsome people could make their characters look in this world. She wondered if she should have tampered with her settings and maybe made herself a little taller or a little curvier. Certainly, Frank should have played with those options instead of going for a movie monster. She put those thoughts away and straightened up to answer him.

“I am Heather, the flower singer,” she said.

“So you’re Heather,” he said with a strange tone. “I have heard about you.”

“You have?”

He nodded again and took a more relaxed pose.

“A lot of people think there is a necromancer out here. Groups have been coming south for weeks, but they either come back empty-handed or telling stories about you.”

“That's because they keep assuming I am the necromancer,” she said with a tone of irritation. She took a hard stance with arms folded, preparing to defend herself from the true accusation.

He looked around at the tower and surrounding grounds. “Well, you do seem to live in a graveyard.”

“My best friend came in before me and wanted to play a ghoul,” she said in an exasperated tone. “I wanted to be a golden sprite, flower singer, but he said that wouldn't work with his theme. So I settled on a human flower singer and picked the recluse as my second class.”

“Why the recluse?” he asked.

“Because one of the tower styles had a graveyard around it. I thought it would fit his theme and make him happy. He so loves to build that silly graveyard.”

“Did he make the forest full of wolves?”

“The forest belongs to Quinny, a zombie player. We met her inside and became friends, so she set up her lair here.”

“Ahh,” he replied. “Some people have already come back, saying there is no necromancer that people mistook you for one.”

“They did,” she replied firmly. “I was walking down the road with Frank, my friend who plays the ghoul, and some idiot paladin saw us and accused me of being a necromancer. He said Frank was my pet just because he couldn’t imagine us playing together.”

“It is rather strange,” Skullman said with a nod. “But I guess I would stick by a friend from the outside even if he wanted to play a monster race. It would be challenging, though, hero players don't treat monster players very well.”

“Honestly, I don't know why people make such a big deal about it,” Heather argued. “The monster players can build the very things hero players want, dungeons, and adventures. The forest and graveyard are perfect examples of what they can do.”

“I agree,” Skullman replied with a shrug. “Good on you for standing by your friend.”

Heather was taken aback by his willingness to accept her point of view. He seemed more interested in talking than hunting the necromancer, so she relaxed her arms and tried to appear less threatening.

“So, what rumor convinced you to come to hunt for me?” she asked to play along.

“A rogue said he heard you call yourself a necromancer,” he replied. “He said you boasted about sweeping the world with the undead.”

“Oh, I did say that,” she replied and shook her head in annoyance. “Look, I was in the goblin village with Frank, and some party of fools attacked it. The saw us and assumed, like the paladin did, that I was a necromancer. I got lucky when the wizard cast a spell, and it was accidentally reflected back at him. I used that to bluff them into thinking I was a much more powerful Necromancer than they thought.

“Ha!” Skullman replied and rubbed at his chin. “You couldn’t have picked a worse thing to do.”

“I didn’t know there was a ban on them back then,” she replied. “I just didn’t want to get killed.”

“Sadly, a lot of new players don't. People still pick the class and come in, not realizing the law,” he replied. “People just assumed the same thing happened here. Necromancers are worth a great deal of money up north.”

“So I have been told by the dozen other people who have come for my head,” she said dryly.

“I can imagine it has been hard,” he replied and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, you have made a very pretty garden. I like how you have decorated it with color.

“Thank you,” she replied, smiling a bit at the compliment.

“It’s a nice change from the dark forest and graveyard,” he added.

“It’s why I picked the flower singer. I told Frank I couldn’t play here unless I could add some color to it. He agreed so long as I put most of it behind the tower.”

“Understandable,” Skullman agreed.

“Would you like to walk around the tower and see the rest? I have a lovely red climbing rose on the backside of the tower.”

“I would be honored,” he replied and stepped up to stand beside her.

She smiled and led the way describing the flower choices and how she wanted to add hedges to the outer ring to make it more private. As they rounded the back, three skeletons raised weapons, but Heather quickly intervened.

“He’s with me!” she shouted and pointed to the other side of the yard. “Go stand by the wall!”

The obediently followed her commands and shuffled off as she scowled at them.

“You have skeletons?” he questioned.

“They come with the tower graveyard,” she replied.

“To fit in with your friend's theme,” he said with another nod.

“I like having them. I use them to do all the heavy lifting and to help in the yard. You would be amazed at all the little chores they can do,” Heather said before moving on.

“So, you and this friend, you two must be close.”

“We’re only friends,” she replied as she thought of Frank. “Besides, he played a ghoul and made it look horrible.”

“I don’t judge,” Skullman laughed.

Heather shook her head in disagreement. “Frank is a really nice guy who wants people to play here and have fun, but he's terribly hard to look at. He went for the horror monster look.”

“So, is there someone?”

“Someone what?” Heather asked.

Skullman shrugged as they arrived at the stone bench behind the tower.

“I just assumed a pretty girl like you would have a significant other.”

Heather raised a brow as confusion set in. Was Skullman hitting on her? She felt alarmed to be sitting in her back yard flirting with a paladin who was here to hunt for her. She quickly got control of herself and tried to be polite and maintain her ruse.

“Umm,” she began. “No, I haven't met too many people out here. When I do, they are just here to play, or looking for the necromancer that doesn't exist.” She fumbled with her hands and looked to the right and remembered her tower.

“So, umm, these are my red roses,” she said, quickly turning to look up the tower wall.

“They are beautiful,” he replied as he looked at the crimson curtain before him.

“I put the red ones here because Frank says its too much color to see from the graveyard.”

“I agree,” Skullman said. “I like the secluded garden effect it creates back here. A beautiful place for a beautiful woman.”

Heather twisted nervously as she tried to clear her head. Why was she more nervous that a paladin was hitting on her instead of hitting her? More so, why did she feel guilty?

“So, I hope you're not disappointed that there was no necromancer for you to bring in,” she said nervously.

“Not at all,” he replied as he turned to regard her. “I found something of much greater value.”

She looked up into his eyes and saw the steel blue intensity staring back at her. Her mind began to swim as she silently prayed for Quinny to interrupt them or maybe a dragon to attack.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“No, I mean, yes. I mean, I am fine.”

He smiled and stepped away, heading for the stone bench.

“There are some lovely gardens in the major cities,” he said as he arrived at the bench. “Have you had a chance to visit any of them?”

Heather took a long moment to respond. She hardly heard a word he said and had to replay it in her mind before she could answer.

“No, I have only traveled north once, and then only to the dwarven lands.”

“Let me guess, pizza?”

She smiled and started to sway again.

“How did you know?”

He sat on the bench with a laugh.

“The dwarves make some of the best pizza in the land. I love how they cover it in an entire layer of sausage.”

“I know, it’s more like a round lasagna,” she laughed.

“And the cheese they make from those highland cows. There is something about it that can't be replicated by other kinds of milk.”

Heather nodded and stepped closer. “So, will you tell people they can stop wasting their time coming out?”

“To meet you was hardly a waste,” he replied.

She fought to keep control and was afraid she was blushing. He kept saying things in just the right way to play at her emotions. She realized that no matter what, a paladin was not a friend to make, not if she wanted to keep her class as a necromancer.

“Thank you for your kind words, but few people who come here are as nice as you are. I would rather most of them went someplace else. I get sick of having to explain myself all the time.”

“I am sure it gets old,” he agreed.

“I even had some orcs kick in my front door,” she sighed. “They were very angry I wasn’t a necromancer.”

He shrugged. “For the kind of reward that's offered for a necromancer, I understand why.”

“I had no idea being friends with a ghoul was going to cause so much trouble,” she sighed as she approached him. He moved over on the bench, inviting her to sit beside him. She looked down at the empty place that was dangerously close to him. Something inside dug at her senses, imploring her to be rational. This was a fantasy world. The real him probably looked nothing like this. Heck, he could have been a she in the real world. As that thought occurred, it was quickly followed by another one. Would it matter what he or potentially she looked like in the other world? Did it matter what he looked like now?

“Heather?” Quinny called from someplace near the graveyard, causing her to thank her lucky stars.

“I am back here,” she shouted back.

“A friend of yours?” Skullman asked.

“That’s Quinny, the zombie player,” Heather replied. “You, you won’t kill her?”

“If she is a friend of yours, certainly not,” he replied.

She nodded as Quinny came around the path in her white gown, not noticing the paladin until she was a dozen steps away.

“Woah,” she said and stopped in her tracks. “Whose the sweet treat?”

Heather paused to think that through before responding with a shake of her head.

“Quinny, this is Skullman, a paladin off...” she trailed off, not remembering who he was a paladin of.

“Mithenlar,” he filled in for her and stood as Quinny took a step away.

“He isn’t going to attack,” Heather said with a frown. “He is very nice.”

“Paladins and undead have a poor history,” Quinny replied and looked him over. “What kind of paladin names himself, Skullman?”

He shrugged with a smile. “I liked the name. I figure it means I battle skeletons.”

“We have certainly have plenty of those,” Quinny admitted. “But you’re not low level, what are you doing here? Are you hunting for Heather again?”

He let out a sigh and looked to Heather as she met his gaze again. He winked and then turned back to Quinny.

“I was hunting a necromancer, but I found a beautiful flower instead.”

Heather was sure she was blushing now as Quinny looked at her oddly. Slowly a smile spread over Quinny's face, and she dared to come closer.

“So you found a flower,” Quinny repeated. “Heather is kinda pretty in her boring human ways.”

“Hey! I am not boring,” Heather protested. “Frank just wouldn’t allow me to be a golden sprite.”

“Humans are not boring. They have the most options and make excellent paladins,” Skullman interjected. “And equally excellent flower singers.”

Heather smiled and glanced at Quinny, who had a mischievous look on her face. She sauntered to Heather's side and put an arm around her waist.

“Poor, lonely Heather. She hardly meets any men way out here,” Quinny began. “We keep telling her she should go to one of the cities, but she wants to stay with her friends.”

“I am beginning to doubt who those are,” Heather retorted, but Quinny ignored her. She turned back to Skullman, who seemed to be enjoying the display and asked a question that was bothering her.

“So you're a paladin of Mithenlar. I thought paladins worshiped Allamure.”

“Skullman shook his head and took a casual stance. “Some worship Allamure, especially the paladins of King Kevin, but there are two dozen or so gods and goddesses that have paladins.”

“There are?” Heather asked, now intrigued.

“Why yes, and depending on the type of god you worship, your paladin has special powers. I worship a god of combat and healing. I can heal better than most other paladins, and I have a few buffs that boost my combat abilities. I can even put that buff on others for a short time.”

“I see,” Heather said. “So, if you worshipped a god of the seas, you could breathe underwater or talk to fish?”

Skullman laughed and waved a hand. “Maybe not that, but those who worship Corrinus the tide lord can walk on water, and summon or dismiss storms.”

“Hmm,” Heather replied as she folded her arms. “There is so much to know about this place.”

“Too much,” he agreed. “But I would be happy to tell you about it.”

She glanced at Quinny, who gave her a nudge that made her blush all the harder. She stood tall and went to reply when the back door of the tower opened, and a tall elven woman with coal-black hair walked out. Breanne stopped on the top step and looked down the path with a shocked expression.

“Skullman?” she said in a haltering voice.

Heather watched in shock as Skullman looked up, his smile fading, and his brows creased. “Well, well, lady Breanne, here is where you are hiding.”