Secret Quest ‘Unauthorised Entry’ Complete! Description - Conquer the Dwarven border Reward - 9,000xp
A rapier sank into the spine of a Dwarf crawling across the ground. The trail of blood leading away from the border made him simple enough to track down. A final, hoarse breath escaped from the warrior’s lips as Lieze yanked the rapier out from his flesh, bending down to touch a finger to his flesh. A second later, the Dwarf was standing once more as a freshly-raised Gravewalker, broken ankles snapping beneath the weight of its portly body.
“Hm…” Lieze found some inspiration in the horrifying sound, “Bones…”
She recalled the very first boons afforded by her [Necromantic Alchemy]. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, a notification expanded in front of her face.
Ability - Necromantic Alchemy (Skeletal Preservation) Description - Perform a simple ritual to strip the skin and muscle from a thrall’s bones, transforming it into a [Skeletal] version of its current form. [Skeletal] thralls have their maximum HP reduced by [50%] and any costs associated with [Necromantic Alchemy] reduced by [50%].
It was a useless skill without many practical applications, but Lieze wasn’t about to let a description huddle her into single-mindedness. By reducing a thrall to a skeletal husk, she theorised, it would be a simple enough matter to use [Necromantic Alchemy] to rearrange its bone structure, thereby transforming it into an entirely new thrall.
While Drayya and the others cleared the border of Dwarves, she retrieved the alchemy table from her Portable Home and gathered up a few Gravewalkers to experiment with the idea. Over the course of half an hour, she used [Skeletal Preservation] to strip a thrall clean of its flesh, revealing the discoloured, cancerous bone structure beneath.
The necromantic covenant keeping its joints connected and upright had to be malleable in some way. Lieze had always been intimidated by the idea of straying from the scale’s established powers, but if she couldn’t learn to step beyond the fate ordained for her, there would be no chance of taking a stand against the foul divinity that oversaw her world.
She recalled the usage of [Blood Manipulation] - how she could coax the reagents necessary for [Blood Magic] out of her Bag of Holding whenever it pleased her. If she could apply the same logic to a thrall’s bone structure, it would be possible to rearrange it into something more suited to her needs.
She closed her eyes and focused on strengthening her communion with the Blackbriar. Her visions had only been increasing in intensity as she levelled up, transforming from intermittent flashes of power to hallucinogenic hazes of untapped potential. She was closer to the Blackbriar than ever before. The thought didn’t give her anywhere near as much comfort as it once did.
Lieze’s MP - 2,198 / 2,245
Lieze’s MP - 2,100 / 2,245
Her mana drained as the spell she desired took effect, aided by the ambient geometry of the alchemy table. She wasn’t relying upon a convenient repertoire of available spells, and so the toll it took on her mana was enormous while she worked out the specifics.
“I need something fast…” She thought, “Fast enough to outmanoeuvre infantry, but powerful enough to be a thorn in the side of its enemies…”
The newly-baptised Skeletal Gravewalker remained still as its bones were dislocated and broken, becoming a whirling mass of bleached spikes suffused with necromantic potential. With Lieze as their conduit, the bones settled upon one-another, conjoined by forces of dark magic, taking the form of something not unlike an enormous arachnid.
Lieze’s MP - 1,717 / 2,245
The entire experiment lasted just under a minute, but the mental exhaustion of attempting to create a brand-new thrall could have convinced Lieze that it had taken hours. She released a held breath as the horrific visions in her mind’s eye ceased to be, pleased to see that her efforts had paid off in the form of a freshly-spawned minion.
Bonecrawler Level 17 Undead HP - 492 / 492 MP - 0 / 0 BODY - 17 MIND - 0 SOUL - 0
Secret Quest ‘Freestyle’ Complete! Description - Raise a thrall of your own design for the first time Reward - 1,800xp
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The monstrosity was propped up by eight sharpened stilts. Its joints snapped as it took its very first steps along the blasted plains, sifting through the dry mud and dust with a mandibled maw of razor-sharp teeth. Lieze had altered the skull of the Gravewalker in such a way that allowed it to open its jaw wide enough to fit a grown man’s head inside. She observed its surprising agility, commanding it to skitter from one point to another, and testing its uncanny ability to scale walls with ease.
Lieze crossed her arms, “It’s not bad for a first attempt. I can think of a few ways it could be improved, but that can wait until I have more time on my hands.”
As far as she was concerned, bigger had always been better. It was tempting to add more legs and more mouths to the Bonecrawler, but she had the imminent invasion of the Dwarven Mountains to consider. Speed had always been a necromancer’s most prominent weakness, so it was worthwhile to temper her enthusiasm for plain destructive power.
But before anything else, she had the border to worry about. All that remained was to wait until Drayya, Lüngen, and the Deathguards cleared the structure of Dwarves. In the meantime, Lieze commanded the Skeletal Necromancers idling at the walls to gather supplies from within. The night had been long and eventful, and there would be no more marching until dawn.
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“Mm.” Drayya tried to hide a frown as she turned her head away, “I hate spiders.”
“It’s not a spider. It’s a Bonecrawler.” Lieze explained, “If we want to enter the mountains without losing half of our thralls, we need something that can draw the ire of the siege weapons and delay the footsoldiers. This specimen is just a prototype - I plan to shave off some weight from future iterations to increase its speed even further.”
Drayya nodded her head along to the tiresome explanation, knowing that it was better to let Lieze carry on than to interrupt prematurely. Her loathsome gaze washed over the spindly critter. “I’ve never seen something like this before.” she said, “It’s no small feat to create a new thrall out of thin air, you know?”
It was a reluctant compliment - just about the only kind that Drayya was capable of - but a compliment nonetheless. Lieze couldn’t quite believe it herself. She had stepped beyond the shallow boundaries of the scale to create something of her very own design, and was left surprised by how simple it really was.
The camp was alive with merriment and cheer, contrary to the depression that normally prevailed within the Order. The cultists may have been pleased with their victory, or they may have just been thankful to eat something other than dry biscuits for once. The splendorous bounty of Dwarven cuisine excavated from the border filled the air with the delightful scent of herbs and roasted meat. Lieze found herself distracted by peckishness, but pushed the need to the back of her mind.
“I’ll spend a few hours creating more skeletons to use as a base for the Bonecrawlers.” She began, “They’re less durable than Gravewalkers, but the extra speed makes up for it. If I work through the morning, I could have 10 specimens prepared before-”
Drayya’s hands came up to pinch her cheeks. The girl leaned towards her with a dissatisfied expression. “No, I don’t think you’ll be doing anything like that.” She said, “Here’s what’s really going to happen: You and I are going to spend the rest of the night gorging ourselves on delicious food and celebrating our victory. Then we’re going to have ourselves a well-earned rest, sleeping in until the early afternoon. Then - and only then - we can start worrying about your Bonecrawlers.”
Lieze remained still as Drayya pulled on her cheeks like she was trying to stretch taffy. The Bonecrawler prodded her shoe with an inquisitive leg before being scared off by a low growl from the Void Beast.
“Do I have a choice?” Lieze asked.
Drayya shook her head, “You don’t.”
“Is that so…” She averted her eyes, “...I suppose there’s nothing for it, then.”
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With a fierce kick, the corpse tumbled over the edge. Within seconds of touching the magma, every bare inch of skin went up in flames. The smell of burning flesh entered Marché’s nostrils, forcing him to suppress a gag reflex. He turned away from the ledge and pinched his nose shut. “That’s another one down.” He said.
The scene before him was one of untold violence. Dwarves sprawling across the rocky shelf laid disembowelled, the spilling contents of their bellies staining the ground with flecks of chunky viscera. The dagger in Marché’s grip was wet with blood. His robes had been painted red with entrail brushstrokes. Not far ahead, Roland was pilfering the contents of a Dwarf’s pockets. The blood on his face mixed with his sweat, covering his sharp features in a veneer of diluted crimson.
Marché wandered over, “What are you looking for? Let me help.”
“This is our man, if I’m not mistaken.” Roland replied, “Do you see that brooch on his vest? They’re worn by the mine wardens.”
Retrieving a blood-soaked letter from one compartment, he ran his eyes over the contents. His wet fingerprints soaked right through the paper. “Here - this is what we’re looking for.” Roland held the document out, “A writ of delivery from the armoury. Twenty barrels of blast powder were dropped off near the entrance to the mine just a few hours ago. If we’re quick, we might be able to swipe them before anyone drops by to check on the delivery.”
A Fleshbag detached itself from the head of a nearby corpse, revealing a blue, asphyxiated expression of horror beneath. A nearby Deathguard was already raising one of the dead as a Gravewalker. Marché scanned the letter to corroborate Roland’s claim before rolling the parchment up and sticking it into his pocket.
“Where are we going to store these ones?” He asked.
“There’s a shaft connected to this chamber that branches all the way through these old mines.” Roland answered, “Stick the Gravewalkers deep enough, and they’ll be safe from prying eyes until the moment of truth. Someone will come by looking for the warden and his escort soon enough, so I’ll have them moved right away.”
“And the blast powder?” Marché continued, “Won’t it cause a panic if those barrels suddenly disappear?”
“Do you have any idea of how ravenously these people go through those barrels?” He raised an eyebrow, “If we steal them fast enough, the workers will just assume they were already used. And before you start worrying about where to keep them, we’ll just store them with all the thralls.”
Marché wiped the sweat from his brow. The magma flow bubbling through the chamber made him wonder how the Dwarves could tolerate working entire days in those inhospitable mines.
“This is the second warden we’ve killed.” He said, “-And not only him, but his escort as well. We won’t get away with murdering another without raising some eyebrows.”
“There are some occupational hazards that come with prospecting, you know.” Roland smirked, “It’s a shame this warden had a bad fall during his inspection, but what can you do? As long as we cover our tracks, we’ll have nothing to fear.”
Their plans were heating up - growing more confident by the day. Marché disliked having to maintain his public image as a voice of progressive freedom for Dwarvenkind while also juggling his duties as a member of the Order, but he certainly couldn’t argue with the results.
“...Alright.” He nodded, “Let’s go get those barrels.”