Heather the Necromancer

“You can’t be serious,” Frank said as he looked the rough thing over.

“I am very serious,” Heather replied as she walked around it with some pillows in hand. “This way, we can travel all night.”

“It looks crude but sturdily built,” Breanne added as she shook the side.

Heather smiled at her ingenuity and put more cushions inside her new litter. She had seen it as an option to buy on her panel and used that image to show Umtha and the goblins. They rushed off and started gathering wood to craft together a rough copy. Now she had two long poles in the center of which was more or less a nest that she was lining with pillows. A crude roof was built over the nest made of woven vines and bark over thin branches. Now she had a more comfortable place to sit and sleep while they traveled. More importantly, the book could be brought with, and she could continue to study while they traveled.

“That's a terrible idea,” Frank said when she presented it to him. “Lots of people will recognize that book and the ones who don't will tell stores about it. It will draw more attention with every person we pass.”

“We don't have to stay on the roads,” Heather insisted. “We can go across the wildlands.”

“Players go across the wildlands looking for monsters to fight,” he pointed out. “How did you convince the goblins to carry you in the first place.”

Heather smiled and shook her head. “They aren't going to carry me. My skeletons will.” Frank glared at her with narrow eyes, and she put her hands to her hips. “We have already gone out with the skeletons a bunch of times; this is the best way to keep walking all night.”

“And who is going to defend your tower while you're gone?” he asked.

“Breanne is going to move everything of value to the hidden room underneath. If the tower gets trashed, it will be only the things I can magically replace. Besides, the gargoyle has to stay, and the skeleton guards inside can't go any farther than the yard.”

“What about the crown?

Heather sighed. “Were bringing that with.”

He nodded his head and looked at her very seriously. “You do know the risk your taking?”

“Frank, do you remember when we first met how excited you were to build your graveyard, and how you envied me for being chosen. Everything was cool and fun back then, what happened to that Frank?”

“You became my friend and then a necromancer. Now I worry about you and what will happen if you get caught. People are already coming to try and collect the bounty.”

“You are always good to me, and I have been very mean to you several times,” Heather said then looked down at Webster. “You, too, I need to be nicer to you both.”

“It's alright, you are struggling with being here,” Frank began, but Heather cut him off.

“It isn't right. I vent my frustration on the people who are nicest to me. I have apologized for this before but never change, and I go back to being mean. I wouldn't be here right now without you, and I want to change for real. I think it's time we did some of that cool stuff you talked about. Let's embrace what I am for a change and go on an adventure.”

He nodded and looked over the strange cart. “Why did you make it so big?”

“So the rest of you can ride,” she said with a smile. “I have plenty of skeletons, let them do the walking.”

Frank nodded and looked over the cart as Heather called on her skeletons. The book, crown, and scythe were loaded into the back, and then they climbed in to sit on pillows. Eight skeletons stood on each side and lifted the poles to hold them aloft easily. Her Bone knight walked beside the cart with another eight skeletons walking behind. Umtha sat in a seat near the front to point out the way and guide them. Her goblins stayed behind to guard the graveyard and keep working on the new village.

The litter was remarkably stable as the skeletons carried it on their shoulders, marching down the road in the direction Umhta pointed. They watched the countryside go by as they sat around the nest in the middle talking. They traveled east, heading for Umtha's old village and then the lands beyond.

“This is fun,” Heather said as she laid on a pillow petting Webster.

“I feel silly,” Breanne said. “I also wonder why none of the other necromancers did this.”

“They had better ways to travel,” Heather said. “I will, too, when I can figure it out.”

“How fast do you think we get there?” Quinny asked. “The skeletons don’t seem to be tiring at all.”

“They shouldn't, they have no stamina unless injured they keep going,” Frank added. “I have to admit this is pretty cool, and the skeletons are perfect for this task. They can walk forever without needing to stop.”

“You told me this world was fun,” Heather replied. “I think it’s time we started having some of it.”

“I like this Heather,” Quinny laughed.

“I like this change of attitude, but we need to be careful,” Breanne said. “Kevin will find out sooner or later.”

“And there is nothing we can do about it,” Heather said. “But maybe learning more about Hathlisora will help. I would like to know why she can talk through me when I wear the crown, but I don't remember it.”

“I worry about what role she plays with you,” Breanne said. “She claims to be helping you, and that you agreed to help her.”

“I have no idea who she is, and I certainly didn’t make an agreement with her.”

“Are we even sure that voice is Hathlisora?” Frank asked from where he sat near Umtha. “What if its that other woman?”

“Issicara?” Heather asked. “Why would she be talking through me?”

“I don’t know, But Umtha says you’re Hathlisora, and the crown came from Issicara, maybe she can talk through it when you wear it.”

“Hmm,” Heather remarked as she pondered the notion. “I suppose it could be her, but we have the same problems. I don't know her, and I never agreed to help her, Hathlisora did.”

“Maybe you look like Hathlisora,” Quinny offered.

“She is Hathlisora,” Umtha said from where she sat in front.

Heather let out a sigh and looked at the others who could offer her no advice. Umtha was angry that the crown had come off, and even more angry Heather wouldn't put it back on. She looked to the goblin woman and tried to speak to her. “Umtha, why are you mad at me?”

“You promise goblins,” Umtha replied.

She looked around at the blank stares of the others and went on. “Promised you what?”

“When you come for crown, you help us escape.”

“Escape?” Heather repeated.

Umtha looked back with a frown on her green face and her pointed ears hanging down. “You make portal to goblin homelands.”

“What goblin homelands?” Frank asked.

“Necromancer bring goblins here, say Hathlisora bring back when she come for crown.”

“That wasn’t an answer,” Quinny said.

“Umtha, what goblin homelands?” Heather repeated.

Umtha turned back to look ahead and let out a little sigh. “Goblins come from other place. We travel here with necromancers to watch spawns. They say goblins get big reward and be friends, but necromancers die. Last necromancers tell that Hathlisora dead but will come back. Say will come for crown, and then help us go home.”

“How did Hathlisora die?” Heather asked.

“I not sure,” Umtha replied. “Lie to her, they said, but Umtha not know how. Say trick Hathlisora and kill her.”

Heather pondered that a long moment before an idea struck her. “Why was the crown hidden?”

“Hathlisora not come back for long time. Last necromancers use magic to bring statue to temple. Use hidden room that Hathlisora made long ago to hide crown in.”

“Why did they bring the statue there?”

“Hathlisora and statue connected. She spawns near statue when come back.”

“This sounds like one big coincidence,” Breanne said.

“No, she Hathlisora,” Umtha insisted.

Heather shook her head and gave up, asking questions. They had done this before, and once Umtha was mad, all she would do was insist Heather was Hathlisora. She looked at Webster, who was curled in a ball at her side and resumed rubbing his back. She marveled at how bristly his fur was, more like pine needles than hair. She was tired of making people mad or becoming mad herself and taking it out on her friends. Webster was a good familiar, and she was happy to have him. Frank and the others were good friends, and always helped when they could. She, on the other hand, was moody, selfish, rude, and a poor friend. Frank was right, there was a lot to appreciate in this world, and it was time to change.

The skeletons marched along a path directed by Umtha for hours, never breaking their pace. At one point, they had to cross a stream and wadded into the water chest high, carrying them across unharmed. They spoke about this or that, and Heather spent some time poking at her panel and reading up on new spells. She toggled through her character sheet to discover she had options to pick.

“Why do I have more choices?”

Frank leaned over as she held up her arm so he could see the hologram. “You have skill choices,” he said. “You get some every few levels.”

“I really need to spend more time in this thing,” Heather said and started to flip through a list of skills. “I can take skill in performance?”

“You start with that, then specialize in something like acting, or singing, or playing an instrument,” he replied.

“I did always want to know how to play the guitar,” Heather remarked.

“Ha, I bet Heather was a metalhead,” Quinny laughed.

Heather shrugged it wasn't far from the truth, and she poked down the list until she saw one that looked interesting. “Two-handed weapon master,” she said aloud.

“That would work with your scythe, but most casters never use their weapons in combat,” Frank said.

“It says I gain skill in combat styles if I pick this,” she said.

“You do, and if you pick it again, you can choose more styles, but not all of them work for all weapons.”

“Hmm,” Heather said with a smile as she continued looking. “Bond of magic, you can mark an object with your bond and call it to yourself over any distance. Choosing this option again allows you to mark additional items.”

“What would you mark?” Frank asked.

Heather thought of something instantly and decided to take that option as she looked down the list.

“Soulbound, your weapon is bound to you and can’t be used by another. Anyone who attempts to wield your weapon is burned by soul damage.”

“That’s how the death knights sword kinda works. The living can’t touch it,” Frank added.

“Swift, you can dash short distances unusually fast,” she said with a nod. “I like that.”

“What would you use it for?” Quinny asked.

“I don't know, getting out of the way of an attack, maybe.” She went back to the list and started to frown as things like cooking, weaving, camping, and other mundane tasks began to scroll by. “Most of these skills can just be learned,” Heather said. “Why would I ever take dancing?”

“Some people can’t dance,” Quinny replied.

“Yeah, but you can learn.”

Quinny shrugged. “It’s easier to pick it as a skill.”

“So, how do you use a skill?” Heather asked as she read up on swimming.

“You just do the thing you're trying to do, and if you have a skill in it, you will do it better, or get some extra effect,” Frank said. “I keep taking skill in toughness, so I am harder to kill.”

“I took skill in archery,” Breanne added.

“Hmm,” Heather said again as she made some choices. “I think I know what I want to do.”

“There are skills for magic,” Frank suggested.

Heather was sure there was but took skills that made sense to her and smiled at the selections. She poked through the list some more and noticed a confusing number.

“What is my health number for?”

“That's how much damage you can absorb,” Frank said. “When that hits zero, you die.”

“Wait? So I don’t just die if somebody stabs me?”

Frank shook his head. “No, but if a hit wouldn't kill you, it won't inflict a serious wound anyway.”

She remembered the arrow that hit her shoulder and wondered if it only hit there because it was only a wound. Knowing this changed her thinking about how this all worked, and she once again scolded herself for not spending enough time in the panel.

It wasn’t until the sun was in the evening position that the skeletons came to a sudden stop. Umtha jumped up and pointed jabbering about something as the others looked. There in the road stood an assorted rabble of people of various races. They looked rough with scars on faces and weapons held out menacingly.

“Who are these people?” Heather asked as she noticed there were more hidden in the trees to the left.

“Bandits, I think,” Frank replied.

“Bandits?” Heather questioned and looked at Frank. “You mean people form gangs and steal from each other?”

“No, these are probably all NPC's spawned by the world. Some rogue players can form an NPC bandit gang, but they couldn't have near this many unless they were ridiculously high level.”

“Uh, huh,” Heather said with a nod, then turned to address the so-called bandits. “Excuse me, but would you mind stepping aside so we can pass?”

“Hand over your valuables, or we will cut you all down!” a man with a thick dark beard shouted.

“Are you sure you want to be added to my army?” Heather asked.

The bearded man looked confused and scratched at his face as Heather climbed down and took her scythe out of the back.

“What are you doing?” Frank asked as he moved to follow.

“Just stay there,” Heather said as she helped Webster down and put him at her feet. “I am going to get some more undead.” She walked forward with her bone knight and the spider making her way directly to the speaking man.

“That’s close enough,” the man said when she was just over three meters away. “Now hand over your loot!”

Heather looked across the rabble and smiled slightly as she tightened her hand on the scythe. “How about you run away,” she said. “Some of you might actually make it.”

There were more confused looks as Heather looked to Webster and nodded her head. The spider leaped directly on the face of the speaking man as Heather dashed forward. The man cried as the spider blinded him but was cut short as Heather’s scythe cut through him. The bone knight rushed in after her and cut down the man to his left. The other bandits cried out as Heather caused skeletal arms to erupt from the ground and grab at legs. She rushed about slashing with her scythe and using the handle to block.

Her skeletons set the liter down and rushed to join the fight as Frank and the others looked on in shock.

“Wow, Heather knows how to fight!” Quinny said as they too ran to help her.

Heather danced between two men, her yellow dress blowing in the wind as she pointed the tip of her scythe at one. A cloud of red mist engulfed him as he gagged and choked. Webster jumped at the face of the other, staggering him back as he landed on his face. Now blind, both men lasted only seconds as Heather used a combat style that saw her spinning in a circle cutting wide.

By the time Frank and others reached her, the bandits were trying to run. Heather tied some of them down with grasping arms again before cutting them down like grass.

When it was all done, she stood in the center of the carnage with Webster at her feet.

“We make a good team,” she said to the spider. “Nobody expects you can jump that far and tackle them in a heartbeat.”

“Why didn’t you ask for our help?” Frank asked as he walked up.

“I wanted to test my new talents,” she said with a proud smile on her face.

“What did you pick?” he questioned.

“Three ranks in two-handed weapon mastery, one in dashing, and one in dodge.”

Frank scratched at his head with wide eyes as he heard the list. “You didn’t take a single magic skill?”

“People will expect that,” she said. “Who is going to expect a necromancer who can rush in and cut them down?”

“You made yourself a melee build with no armor?” he asked.

“I can use my magical armor if I want,” Heather said. “But I think the element of surprise works better.”

He looked around again and shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I can't argue with your results, and you looked cool fighting.”

“She looked awesome,” Quinny said. “I am going to take Dashing next, who will expect a zombie who can sprint?”

“Well, there is only one thing left to do,” she said as she planted her scythe and threw out her other hand. “Rise and serve!”

Around them, bodies began to glow with a green light as fingers twitched and legs spasmed. A moment later, they began to stir, climbing to their feet with blank expressions on their faces and lifeless eyes.

“How many undead can you make?” Quinny asked.

Heather smiled as she considered that answer, there was one magical skill she did take, three times to be precise, amplitude, make one of your non-combat spells twice the duration or power. Conveniently it doubled the previous double and then doubled again.

“Let’s just say a lot,” she replied and shouldered her scythe.

“You are really taking to this,” Breanne said with an approving nod.

Heather looked back to Frank and nodded herself. “”A friend once told me how much fun this world could be; I should have listened back then. I still want to go home, and if I find a way out, I will take it, but if I have to be here and be a necromancer, I am going to enjoy it fully.”

“Yay!” Quinny cried. “Heather, the necromancer is back!”