“With the mistress incapacitated, we cannot rely on her demons aiding us in the next assault.” I observed, giving a glance at the map sprawled across the table.

Sir Felmun was dishevelled the state of the castle's mistress was taking its toll. Her near-death experience at the hands of an overtaxed and untested wand had nearly driven the knight to march down to the summoning chamber and challenge the demon to a duel.

While I would pay to see that, we needed the knight to command the defence. The men at arms were held together by his staunch leadership, their morale hung in the balance.

“Yes, the whole ring of demon control was meant to keep the men at ease. Having a rogue demon in the basement would not be good for their nerves.” Gerald added.

The lie was a wise course of action, the young wizard had a quick wit. Too bad he was a Thaumaturge, I could have used an apprentice.

“Without the mistress we cannot rely on her demons. We can only pray to every God that will listen, that the demons below will not notice their mistress is incapacitated.” Sir Felmun prayed, hoping he was correct.

“Correct sir knight, it is best to keep the demons in the dark. That being the case, if we cannot rely on them to aid us in the next assault, I have an idea.” I said, mulling over my plan.

The two looked at me, their expressions were puzzled, they likely didn’t expect me to put in this much effort. But they were wrong, my hatred for Drelem drives me to greater feats. This plan will be the perfect start to sweet revenge.

“Well speak deathmonger, what is your suggestion.” The knight demanded in his typical I am better than you tone, it was adorable.

I directed them to the map of Wildhold and its surrounding environs. Tracing my finger from the keep to Drelem’s camp all the way north to the village of Tormal.

image [https://64.media.tumblr.com/14888a256548c87122c15c9ee8db0fc6/9d3cfadd83cc909f-d5/s2048x3072/5178d91c567697e49490b0e7ae32b5d7a94846ab.jpg]

“Tormal was the first to be ravaged by Drelem’s forces. No doubt some of the zombies attacking this keep were made from the villagers corpses.” As I explained the two frowned, likely the loss of such a village weighed heavily on them. “I have since summoned wraiths from a few wayward souls. They were villagers of Tormal and quite eagre for vengeance.” I explained much to the horror of my audience.

“You defiled the graves of villagers?” The knight accused.

“You say that like its a bad thing. You do know what my trade entails?”

That was not wise, the knight immediately went to his sword, but only Gerald’s calming hand kept him in check. “I think you should explain what you mean?” Gerald requested, trying to ease the tension.

I sighed, having to spell out my intricate craft to simpletons, simpletons that did not appreciate my mastery. They always got hung up on the defilement of corpses and graves.

“I did not defile any graves, I have never been to that hole in the ground. I just noticed some ghosts haunting the camp and captured them.” I explained as if it were obvious.

“Why where their ghosts haunting the camp?” Gerald asked, the knight just seethed.

“I would assume they cant move on because they have unfinished business. Drelem doesn’t have the skill to convert them into wraiths. Zombies and ghouls are what he does, lazy necromancer.” I harrumphed, recalling how he abandoned his studies.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Why are you bringing up ghosts? Speak plainly!” The knight pressed.

I sighed, everyone was always in a hurry and then I remembered we were being besieged. So that made sense given the current situation. Centring myself I began the explanation, in the simplest terms I could think of.

“Do any of you know what a wraith is?” I asked and they both looked puzzled. “A wraith is the spirit of the deceased which has not left the material plane for one reason or another. Such as the rather angry spirits lingering around Drelem’s camp.” I explained and they seemed to be catching on.

“But how can this help us? I don’t know much about these wraiths, but ghosts are not able to interact with the material plane.” Gerald queried.

“You would be correct for most of them. They are some that can interact such as poltergeists and spectres. It’s likely some of the deceased will fall into these categories eventually. But what I propose is to transform some of these ghosts into wraiths.”

“And how will this help us?” Sir Felmun asked.

“Well sir knight, Wraiths have the unique ability to possess their old body, transforming into a Drauger or perhaps a Revenant.” I answered.

Realisation dawned on him, looks like the old knight can be taught. The gears of his mind seemed to shift and the knight came to the same conclusion I had, so did Gerald if I could read him.

“The ghost's bodies were used in Drelem’s unholy army.” He managed to figure it out, though the unholy army was a bit harsh.

“Are you saying we can turn some of the undead against Drelem?” Gerald asked.

I nodded. “Yes, but it will require getting me close to the camp. I will need to sever the binding links to their bodies and get the wraiths back in their. The only trouble is, they will have free will, at least within reason.”

“Would that mean they could resist your control and go rabid?” Gerald questioned, noting a flaw in the plan.

“It is a possibility, which is why I will need you sir knight, to talk to the spirit and convince it to aid us.” I brought up the reason I wanted him here.

The knight looked at me, shocked. “You want me to recruit a ghost in our attack on the besieging camp, a poor and innocent peasant who was unjustly slain?” The knight asked, wanting me to cry a river.

“Essentially.” I replied.

The two shook their heads, probably having a hard time with the idea. But given the fate of the castle was at stake, they agreed. “Now, how do we escape the castle? So we can enact my master plan.”

“Their is a passageway you can use, I will send a man to guide you. It will get you close to the enemy.” Sir Felmun explained, pointing to the location on the map.

He traced a line from the castle, north to the Deep Wilds and around to the back of the camp. I nodded, turning to my staff which was laid against the wall. “I will summon the spirit, so be prepared to convince it.”

The knight nodded, his resolve was clear. With the go-ahead, I began the ritual to conjure the spirit in question. This one I believe should have a body available to occupy. I could place a binding on it, but that will be tricky to manage once it reassumes its physical form.

The spell I have devised for this very occasion is designed to cut all necromantic bindings. Thus the undead will be free from anyone’s control and easily possessed by the host spirit. This will also cut my bindings and thus the revenant will be free.

The somatic gestures are performed, the chants complete and with the final push of mana, the spirit appears. Its incorporeal form shimmered into existence. It appeared to be a mass of dim light, it soon coalesced into a humanoid form.

“What is happening?” The spirit asked, its voice sounded like it was underwater.

I gestured to the knight to step forward. He did so, albeit timidly, he likely never experienced such an event in his life. The ghost floated above the knight, it looked puzzled and then recognition dawned on him.

“Sir Felmun, the village was attacked, please help us?” The spirit begged.

“I will do just that, on my honour as a knight.” He said proudly and oddly the spirit responded.

“Thank you sir knight, I don’t know where I am. My sister please help me find her.” The spirit begged once more, shifting from pleading to awe at the presence of the saviour knight.

The ghost solidified into a form resembling a young man in his late teens. “So young.” The knight muttered with a pained expression. “We will find your sister, but first you must aid us.”

“Anything sir knight, anything for my sister.”

With the spirit's consent, we went over the plan. The ghost didn’t truly understand its situation, but it knew who the enemy was and what we needed it to do. I secretly placed a calming spell on it, something I hid from the others. Most spirits have a difficult time with their deaths, this lad was no exception.

“What is your name?” The knight asked.

“Samuel sir.” He answered with a ghostly smile.

“Thank you Samuel, you family would be proud that their son would defend their lands.” The knight proclaimed, laying it on a bit thick, but it seemed to do the job.