Screams filled the air and echoed out the of the window slits of the tower. Heather, Quinny, and Breanne burst through the door and ran into the yard; tripping over skeletons and each other as they tried to get away. They stopped just inside the graveyard as Heather panted for breath.
“Hahaha! There were ghosts in it!” Quinny laughed.
“That wasn’t funny!” Heather yelled. “My tower is probably haunted now!”
“So what? You're a necromancer.”
Heather tried to steady her nerves as she looked over at Breanne.
“I am sorry, I had no idea that was going to happen,” Breanne said.
Heather tried to forget the image of the ghostly red faces soaring into the air as she opened the book. They wailed like souls in torment and smiled wickedly as if about to devour her. She wished she had never found it now and made a mental note to open the rest of the pages in Quinny’s burial mound.
“What are you three doing?” Frank asked with concern in his voice. His sudden appearance behind them caused them to jump, but they quickly recovered and tried to look calm.
“Breanne knew how to open the book, and when Heather did ghosts came out,” Quinny said excitedly.
Frank looked at them with his dull yellow eyes and scratched at his head as if confused.
“You got the book open?”
“Yes, and it's haunted,” Heather said as she struggled to catch her breath. “As soon as I opened the first page, red faces poured out and rose into the air. They wailed like dying people and started to fly around the room.”
“It was amazing!” Quinny laughed.
“Then why did you run out?” Heather demanded.
“I didn’t want to get eaten by ghosts,” Quinny said dismissively. “Why didn’t Breanne stay, she is a ghost.”
“I am a banshee, not a ghost,” Breanne corrected.
“Same thing,” Quinny said with a smirk. “You can both pass through walls.”
“We share some traits in common, but it is very different. I could easily call you and Frank ghouls because you appear dead.”
“Let’s not argue about that,” Heather interrupted. “We need to find a way to get them out of my tower.”
“They are probably gone already,” Frank suggested.
Heather paused in her panting to look at him with a raised brow. “Why would they be gone?”
“That was probably an illusion meant to scare people away,” he said.
“An Illusion?”
Yeah. A lot of wizards protect books with illusions and other harmless spells to keep the overly curious away.”
“Aww, I want it to be ghosts,” Quinny pouted.
“Well, I want it to be an illusion!” Heather snapped as she put her hands on her hips.
“If it's an illusion, you have nothing to fear going back in,” Quinny mocked.
Heather looked to the open doorway and saw her bone knight standing just inside. She realized that Frank was probably right, and she had nothing to fear, but her legs still wouldn't move. Thankfully Frank walked passed and went inside. She scolded herself for being so silly and followed as they all went back upstairs.
The book lay where she left it, open to the first page. Not a red face was to be seen much to Quinny’s disappointment.
Frank walked directly to the book and looked over the first page. Heather joined him and marveled at what she saw. Half of the page was written in runes and the other half in English. The ink they used shimmered with a strange silver metallic look that reflected the light. The letters looked to be handwritten with a flowing preciseness that left her amazed.
“What is this?” Heather asked.
“It looks to be a translation key,” Frank said. “The runes match up with the letters on the other side.”
“But some of them are combinations of letters,” Heather said as she studied the page.
“The rest of the book is probably written in the same runes,” he said. “You will have to translate it if you want to read it.”
“Yay me,” she said with a sigh.
“This is odd,” he said as he ran a long nail across the page. “The runes repeat, but the letters don't.”
Heather looked where he was pointing, and he showed her how the same rune always appeared twice. Once with a single letter and a second time with a group of them, usually three to four.
“So, which one is the translation?” she asked.
Frank shook his head. “I don't know what any of this means. Replacement alphabets are common in games, but they usually have only one meaning.”
“Nothing can ever be simple,” Heather replied as she looked over the letters. She almost jumped when Frank casually flipped the page, and nothing happened. The next page was all symbols and diagrams. The left side was broken into five sections, each highlighted with a single symbol. The right page depicted a drawing of a man inside a pattern of circles and lines that made complex stars. Words were written in runes all along the edges and at the various points.
“This will take forever to translate,” Heather said.
“You have the key on the first page,” Frank pointed out. “Once you start working on it, you will start to remember the runes, and it will go faster.”
“What does that diagram mean?” Quinny asked from where she watched over their shoulders.
Heather ran her finger around the circle in the image and shook her head.
“This looks like the stuff you see in new age books,” she said.
“It probably is,” Frank replied. “Video games borrow from that stuff all the time, and the visitors borrowed from our games.”
“So, this is a guide to align my chakras?” Heather joked.
The room was quiet a moment, and Heather suddenly felt uncomfortable.
“What is a chakra?” Quinny asked.
“You know, the energy centers that run down your spine. They make up the connection points of your body to the higher frequencies of the reality.”
“What?” Quinny asked.
Heather looked around at the blank faces. It was her turn to be surprised at what her companions didn’t know.
“Seriously!” she griped. “Lots of people know about this stuff.”
“I know games borrow from it, but I don't know what any of it is,” Frank admitted.
“Neither do I,” Quinny added.
“Don't you ever wonder why people meditate?” Heather asked. “It's all part of clearing your mind and aligning your chakras. It teaches you how to manipulate your energy centers and achieve good health of mind and body. Some people can even heal by manipulating other people's energy.”
“You know about this stuff?” Frank asked.
Heather shook her head. “Look, I took some yoga classes, and they occasionally had special days where they had wellness clinics. I would go to meet people and hear the speakers. A lot of the speakers talked about stuff like this. I bought some of their books and watched their videos online. I was thinking about teaching a class myself in a few months.”
“Only more proof that you were meant to do this,” Breanne said.
“Yoga and necromancy are not the same things.”
“Are they not?” Breanne asked. “Manipulating the energy centers of the body sounds very much like necromancy to me.”
“That is to make people healthy, not undead,” she protested.
“Whose to say the basic principles can’t be used for both?”
Heather didn't have a good answer, so she looked back at the drawing. None of it made any immediate sense to her, but the idea was intriguing. What if the two were similar? What if the visitors made them similar on purpose? What if she did know just what she needed to know to be a good necromancer? No, not just a good one, but a great one?
“I guess I better start translating,” she said when she could think of no reason to put it off.
“Indeed,” Breanne said as she turned to Frank. “I would like to see this tower the book came from.”
“That can be our first adventure,” Quinny said.
“We already cleared the tower,” Frank said. “There was nothing in it but a guardian.”
“There was a guardian?” Breanne asked.
“A nature one,” Frank replied.
“So, somebody protected it from intruders?”
Frank shrugged. “I guess so. We killed it, but that doesn't mean it won't be dangerous.”
“Never the less I would like to see it when it’s possible,” Breanne insisted.
“We can go tomorrow. If we leave early enough, we should make it back before dark,” Frank offered.
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“I’m fine with that,” Heather said. “I wanted to start tomorrow anyway.”
“Yay, our first adventure!” Quinny exclaimed.
“Third,” Frank corrected. “I count the first visit and the pizza as adventures.”
“Those were just playing around,” Quinny argued. “This is us going out specifically to earn experience and find treasure!”
“Treasure?” Heather said with perked interest. It hadn’t occurred to her that they might find treasure. The adventurer's who died in the graveyard always had a small amount of coin and supplies, but could there be real treasure?
“Most animals don’t carry treasure,” Frank said. “We would have to battle something intelligent to find anything.”
“What could we find?” Heather asked, now very interested.
Frank shrugged. “All sorts of things. Weapons, armor, coins, jewelry.”
“Jewelry!” Heather repeated.
“Ha!” Quinny laughed. “Somebody likes Jewelry.”
Heather folded her arms and scowled back at her. She had quite a collection of things in the real world. Necklaces and earrings mostly, but a few bracelets and rings to round things out.
“I happen to like jewelry,” Heather stated flatly.
“So do I,” Breanne said.
Heather wasn't sure, but the motion in Quinny's head made her think she rolled her eyes. However, since her eyes were pure black, all they did was twitch.
“You mean you don’t like a little sparkle?” Heather asked.
“I would rather buy something more useful,” Quinny said. “All you can do with jewelry is wear it.”
“That's precisely the point,” Heather said. Quinny shrugged again, and Heather let out a frustrated sigh. “Why don't I spend some time trying to translate the first page.”
“I would like to stay and help,” Breanne said. “I would love to know more about what the necromancer kings were doing.”
Heather readily agreed, not wanting to be alone with the potentially haunted book. Frank and Quinny left them to it and shambled out of the tower as Heather brought out a chair to begin.
For the next few hours, they leaned over the book and slowly matched the symbols on the second page with those on the first. It was frustrating work, but gradually the words began to come.
“Why would they write in this language anyway?” Heather asked as she flipped the page to find another letter.
“Probably to keep unwanted eyes from reading it,” Breanne suggested.
“They put the translation key on the first page,” she pointed out. “All they did was slow down the person reading it.”
“I have no idea why they did it, but thank your stars they did,” Breanne argued.
Heather had to accept the point and was grateful the key was there. She would have been disappointed to open the book and discover there was no hope of reading it. As she worked on the runes, she began to wonder just what secrets might be inside. The book looked to have over three hundred pages that were larger than her laptop back home. She sneaked a peek at a few deeper in to discover ornate drawings, diagrams, and lengthy walls of text. It was a treasure trove of information, but it would have to be read one letter at a time.
“This is painstakingly slow,” she admitted and leaned back in her chair.
“The book is open, there is no need to rush through it,” Breanne suggested.
They were both suddenly disturbed by a loud growling from Heather's stomach, and she looked down at it in dismay.
“Goodness, girl,” Didn’t you feed that thing enough pizza?”
Heather pet her stomach as if stroking a cat and smiled. “He likes to be fed regularly. He gets grouchy when I keep him waiting.”
Breanne laughed and took a step back. “Maybe we should take a break so you can feed that monster.”
Heather nodded and rose from her chair with a stretch. From where she stood, she could see through the door to the blue stained glass window in her bedroom. The sun's light looked low, indicating it had moved to its twilight position. Her stomach growled again to remind her that she hadn't eaten all day, and she scolded it to be patient. She went to the far wall where the dry foods and rations were piled on another table and began to eat some hard bread.
“It’s a pity that town is so far away,” Breanne said from behind as Heather chewed.
“We want to build a town nearby,” she added between bites. “But we need somebody who is a town builder.”
“You know you can build them the old fashioned way,” Breanne pointed out.
Heather picked at a dried apple slice and crunched it before replying.
“I have no idea how to build a house,” she said. “And why bother if people can spawn them in.”
“The necromancer kings built all sorts of buildings by hand,” Breanne said. “They used the undead to quarry the stone and cut timber.”
“They did?” Heather asked with renewed interest. She had never thought of using her undead that way. Getting water from the stream was one thing, but cutting stone blocks?
“You should practice using your skeletons for greater purposes,” Breanne insisted. “You would be surprised what you can do with them.”
Heather swallowed and wished she had tea to wash it down. She had a teapot, a bucket of water, and some tea, but no fire to boil the water. In fact, she didn't even have a fireplace.
“I know they get smarter as I level them,” she said. “I really need to learn more about what they can do.”
“You need to get some of your own as well,” Breanne said.
“Those are mine,” Heather insisted.
“Those came with the tower. You should be able to summon a dozen or more on your own.”
“I should?”
“Have you never tried to animate any fallen adventurers?”
Heather blinked a few times as she considered the question. She did animate one to save Frank, but since that day, it had never crossed her mind. The rest of the fallen players went into the burial pit to feed Frank's graveyard.
“I guess I never thought of it. Frank always buries the bodies.”
“Well, if you get the chance, you should animate a few more. At higher levels, you should be able to make zombies.”
“I made a zombie once,” she said. “And I was only level one.”
“You animated a corpse,” Breanne corrected. “That's a temporary spell that lasts about ten minutes. What I am talking about is animating a full zombie that will stay that way for years to come. If you carefully animate them, you could have a swarm of skeletons and zombies at your beck and call.”
Heather wrinkled her nose at the notion of zombie servants. Quinny customized her look to be less gruesome, but other zombies looked like rotting corpses. She wasn't sure she wanted them walking around her tower. She supposed if they smelled, she could douse them with her scythe, but what about how they looked?
“You can choose if you want zombies or skeletons,” Breanne said, reading her expression. “Most of the necromancer kings settled on skeletons as well. They aren't as strong, but they look less horrible.”
Heather felt relieved and dunked a cup in the water to cure the dryness in her throat.
“I wish I could get more bone knights,” she said as she set the cup down.
Breanne tapped a finger to her lips. “I don't know how it's done, but I have seen skeletons that were much larger and had four arms.”
“Four arms?” Heather gasped.
Breanne nodded. “They often fought with two large swords and were terrible weapons in the fighting with the paladins. The paladin's undead powers were far less effective against them.”
“I wonder how they did it?” Heather said aloud as she pondered it. She looked to the book on the far table and hoped that secret was in there.
There was a thump below, and both women looked to one another. A second loud thump was heard, followed by a cracking noise that echoed up the stairs.
“What was that?” Heather asked.
“Somebody is breaking down your door!” Breanne said.
“My door!” Heather cried and ran for the stairs.
There were more thumps followed by more cracking as Heather reached the ground floor. The door was bent inward, and the crossbar was split nearly in two. The bone knight stood silently by with sword in hand as if nothing were happening.
“You, go to the top of the stairs and wait,” she said. When the creature hesitated, she yelled, “go!” It moved off, heading up the stairs as the door was struck again and nearly tore free of the hinges.
“I am going to slip out the back wall and circle around,” Breanne said as she faded into her white ghostly form. She dashed through the air, her feet never touching the floor, and passed through the back wall.
“I wish I could do that,” Heather said as her door made a loud splintering noise and came crashing to the floor.
“You’re going to pay to fix that!” Heather yelled as a hulking man with faint green skin looked through the empty opening.
“What is this now?” he said in a guttural voice.
Heather wasn't sure what she was standing in her doorway. It looked human except for its green skin and wide flat jaw. It had two tusks hat jutted up from its lower jaw an inch over its lips. The nose was wide and flat, and it had slightly pointed ears. It had impossibly broad shoulders and massive muscular arms. The armor it wore looked like wrought iron plates held together by leather straps. It was rusted in places and marked by combat scars. Behind him were two others like him, equally massive in size and covered in armor.
“Why are you hiding in here?” the lead one asked.
“This is my home,” she shouted back. “And you owe me a door.”
He ducked through the doorway, and Heather felt her heart start to beat faster as he towered over her. He was a giant of whatever he was, and his eyes narrowed on her.
“This is your home?” he asked as he looked around the bare room.
“My stuff is upstairs,” she said. “I am only level six.”
“Ha,” he said as his two companions ducked their way into the tower. “Hasn't anybody ever told you not to tell people what level you are.”
“No, I like to live alone and keep to myself,” she said as bravely as she could.
The creature stepped forward and leaned over her to look her in the face as she tried not to tremble.
“If you tell somebody you're weaker than them, they might try to take advantage of you for the experience,” he said. “So keep that to yourself unless you trust the person your telling.”
Heather nodded and fought the urge to back away.
“What are you?” she asked, unable to think of anything else to say.
“What?” he said in shock. “Don’t you know what an orc is?”
“An orc?” she repeated with confusion.
“That's what we are,” he said and beat his chest with a plated fist. He turned to his companions, who were walking up behind him. “You have half-orcs, and gray orcs that are smaller, but rock orcs like us are bigger and stronger. We're the true orcs of the land.”
Heather raised a brow in confusion. “How do you get a half-orc?”
He smiled a toothy smile and leered at her. “I could show you.”
Heather looked at him oddly until she finally understood what he meant. “Ewwww!” she said as she recoiled in disgust.
“Bah,” he said and waved her off. “You wouldn't be able to handle it.”
Heather shook her head and ignored the unpleasant thought. She focused instead on the situation and glared at the intruder. “Why did you break down my door?”
“We heard there was a necromancer in these parts. We figured he might be living around this graveyard, and the tower seemed a likely place.”
She struggled to remain calm as the orc looked around the empty room. They were here for the reward but didn't realize she was the necromancer. She looked down at her brightly colored dress and thanked her lucky stars again, silently vowing to never wear black and skulls. He searched the mostly empty room and saw nothing that would give away her secret. However, if he climbed the stairs and found her bone knight, there would be no explaining it. She needed to distract him and play their practiced ruse to try and dissuade him from searching further.
“This again!” she groaned, drawing their attention back to her.
“What again?” the orc leader said as he turned to glare at her.
“This necromancer business,” she said trying to sound annoyed. “Look, I am a flower singer and a recluse,” she said as firmly as she could. “I have a friend who plays as a ghoul, and he made the graveyard. People keep seeing me traveling with him and assuming I must be a necromancer because I have a ghoul.”
“There’s a ghoul out there?” the orc asked.
“He’s in the lower tunnels,” Heather said. “He wants people to play in his graveyard so he can expand and make a big adventure out of it.”
The orc glared at her and rubbed at his chin as he thought it out.
“If your a flower singer, why wasn’t your door protected by magic vines?”
“I am only level six,” she repeated.
He nodded but kept rubbing his chin as he puzzled it through.
“So people keep mistaking you for a necromancer because your buddy is a ghoul player?”
“Yes, and it’s starting to get annoying,” she stated boldly.
The orc sniffed loudly and leaned a little closer to her.
“She doesn’t look like a necromancer,” one of his companions said.
“There were skeletons outside,” the other suggested.
“Those come with the tower,” Heather sighed. “I wanted it to blend in with my friend's graveyard, so I picked the Gothic style. It comes with a small graveyard and skeletons.”
The orc looked back at the others. “Do recluses get skeletons?”
“How should I know?” one of them replied. “I played an orc warrior.”
“Bah!” he groaned again and turned back to Heather.
“Maybe I believe you,” he said. “But, I want to take a look around this tower to be sure.”
Heather's heart began to beat faster as he turned to head for the stairs. Not only would they find the bone knight above, but the book and amulet were lying on the table three floors up.
“You two watch her,” he said as he headed for the stairs.
“What is the meaning of this?” a silvery voice called.
They all turned to see a tall elven woman with dark hair and piercing eyes standing in the doorway. She wore delicate armor of ornate leather and light metal plates. On her head was a tiara of polished steel with a dark blue stone at the crown. She glared at the orcs as they turned to face her.
“Why are you bothering the flower singer?” Breanne asked in a haughty tone.
“An elf,” one of the companions said.
“Shut up,” the lead orc said as he turned to approach Breanne.
“What’s an elf doing this far east?” he asked.
“We elves go where we please,” she said defiantly. “What's an orc doing outside its dungheap?”
Heather was shocked at the insult, and the lead orc leaned over to point a finger in Breanne's face.
“Mind your manners elf. Your kind and ours has bad enough blood as it is,” he threatened. “Were hunting the necromancer that was seen in this area.”
Breanne rolled her eyes and let out a groan of annoyance. “How many fools are going to come knocking on her door just because her friend is a ghoul?”
“You know this ghoul?” the orc asked.
Breanne nodded and stepped aside. “See for yourself,” she said and pointed across the yard. Frank stood tall on his toes, watching from inside the graveyard with dangerously narrowed eyes. His hands twitched nervously as his long claws scraped the ground.
The orc let out a deep rumbling sigh and glance to the other two who leaned to look out as well.
“So there is no necromancer?” he bellowed as he looked back to Breanne.
“Do you see any sign of a necromancer?” Breanne asked. “What necromancer would cover their tower in flowers?”
He rubbed at his chin again and glanced back to Heather before letting out a loud, “bah!” The other orcs stepped aside as he stormed toward the shattered door. “Let’s go,” he said to his companions and squeezed out.
Breanne stepped into the yard as the orcs filled by and headed for the graveyard. They walked up to Frank, who could nearly look him in the eye when he stood fully upright.
“You put your friend in a lot of danger,” he bellowed. “You should have picked something else.”
“I picked this first,” Frank replied. “She came in after me. She was going to play a ghost but changed her mind as the last minute.”
The lead orc studied Frank a moment and glanced at the long claws on his hand.
“You’re big for a ghoul,” he said.
“I’ve had more time to level,” Frank replied.
“He’s obviously a player,” one of the companions said.
“Bah!” the leader groaned again. “I know he's a player. Let's go; we have wasted enough time here. Killing this whole place wouldn't make us a tenth of a level.”
Heather came to her doorway and watched them slip into the trees, grumbling the whole way. Her heart raced, and her mind spun to think of how close she had come to death.
“Keep calm,” Breanne whispered from nearby. “Wait until they are far enough away.”
“Why are they so big?” Heather asked in a shaky voice.
“Orcs get bigger as they level like ghouls do. Those three were probably in their twenties.”
“If they had attacked?” Heather dared to ask.
“We would all be dead,” Breanne answered honestly. “Fortunately orcs have a strange code of honor. They won't attack anyone that isn't a challenge for them. They consider easy targets a waste of time and honor.”
Heather nodded and put a hand to the door frame to steady herself. People were looking for her, and it was going to put them all in danger. One way or another, she needed to level both to protect herself and her friends. She looked out with angry eyes and made a silent vow to never be in this situation again. The next time a group like that came to find her, she was going to stand firmly against them. If the cover story failed and they attacked, they would get far more than they bargained for.