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Lazarus: Death's Companion
Mass Equals... Greater Than 1?

Mass Equals... Greater Than 1?

(xxiii)

The trek to Delton was indeed long, longer than the Lich had anticipated for sure. The path, at its best points, was rough and lacking. At times it disappeared altogether, prompting Lazarus, Jet, and the Ghoul to search the forest for the spot where it continued.

This repeated itself, and even the limitless undead patience of the Lich would have been worn down by the tedious journey… were it not for the abundant resources that they continually came across.

Bodies, fresh and fully decomposed. Wrecked caravans full of both magically preserved goods and rotting junk. Books and tomes, crystals, and they even found what Lazarus suspected was some kind of fossilized dragon egg.

Deciding early on that it was far too much opportunity, he experimented using the bodies he found. Early on they found a small, covered wagon that was relatively undamaged. Being set upon by the local fauna, in typical local fauna fashion, the Lich was able to raise a full team of six large, mostly intact, panthers to pull the wagon. Granted there were eighteen attempts total, but his proficiency would only grow.

They would now travel in comfort, if not style.

It was after his raising of the new beasts of burden, dangerous ones at that, that he was blessed by the red text giving him validation for his actions.

Required proficiency reached: Create Undead Level: 2

“Wonderful,” he said happily. “All hail the red text!”

Fixing his attention on one of the large undead panthers, which was busy licking what little fur remained off the back of its own paw, he cast Appraisal:

Status:

Name: Desolate Bark Panther

Race: Panther

Sex: Undead

Class: Beast

Skills:

Intimidating Roar – Level 2

Pounce – Level 4

Stalk Prey – Level 4

Stealth – Level 6

Spells: Blend, Bleeding Wounds, Devour Mana

Magic Aptitude: Wood

Major Stats:

Level: 17

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Heath: 990/1100 Mana: 250/250

Mana Upkeep: 250

Minor Stats:

Strength: 17 Dexterity: 12 Intelligence: 3

“Interesting. It seems that summoned undead are not like the Ghoul or Jet. They require a constant Mana upkeep. Very interesting indeed,” Lazarus said, watching the panthers scan their surroundings while the Ghoul hitched the harness from the wagon to them.

He mounted the wagon with Jet and the Ghoul, mentally commanding the panthers to move forward at a decent pace, but also to be cautious. He was pleasantly surprised when they began moving forward.

“Mental commands work. Hmm… I need a log or journal of some kind to record my findings,” he muttered.

Rooting around in the back of the wagon he didn’t find much. Some pots, pans, and what looked to be a portable smithy. While that would certainly come in handy at some point, it was no journal. A bit put out, he set aside his thoughts of scientific domination in favor of examining yet another wrecked caravan they were coming to.

A quick scan of the destruction left him no doubt there was little if anything left of the goods within it. He did, however, raise four of the nine bodies as skeletons successfully. To his complete and utter surprise, the red text appeared in front of him:

Requirements Met: Minor Mass Summon Spell Created

A blast of energy and Mana spread out from him, and he watched the remaining bodies he failed to raise crawl to their feet as minor zombies. Apparently the red text was not only forgiving, but generous.

“ALL HAIL THE RED TEXT!” he screamed into the air maniacally, with a near violent undead cackle loosing from his maw. He eagerly pulled up the new spell to view it:

Minor Mass Summon – Create multiple undead in an area twenty feet around the caster. All undead created are one tier lower than a single target creation spell. Level 1

-Create Minor Skeleton Swordsman 250 Mana Per Target

-Create Minor Skeleton Archer 250 Mana Per Target

-Create Minor Zombie 350 Mana Per Target

Examining the new minor zombies, Lazarus was pleased to see that they did not require a Mana upkeep like the skeletons did. They did, however, require mass to satiate themselves. Each had a satiation percent under their level as a part of their major stats. The Lich assumed that should it go low enough, the zombies may very well go feral.

Of course, he loaded them up into the wagon. He was not about to waste a gift from the red text. Besides, they had plenty of distance to go. Additional meat shields, particularly easily replaceable ones, were not going to go unappreciated for very long.

Lazarus heard roars and sounds of fighting in the distance. No. Not very long at all.

He directed the group toward the sounds of combat. Perhaps he would even be able to find someone who could share information with him about Delton. What he knew of the city was… lackluster at best. The surly Dwarf, Ashbard, was full of useful information, but he could only tell the Lich so much. Living beings could impart far more information than his undead proxies. Mostly because they could still talk.

Ghoul didn’t count.

While the creature seemed loyal, followed directions, and was able to speak… something about it still made Lazarus wary around it. He certainly didn’t trust it. Not like Jet. Jet was faithful, honest, and could be a Lich's best friend.

The Ghoul, however… he wasn’t sure.

The wagon made good time to the site of the most recent battle. As the group came out of the tree line into the small clearing by the decrepit road, the site in front of Lazarus made him pause. There were many things he expected to find on this trail of death. Bodies, loss, treasures, garbage, even the occasional survivor.

However, a palisade wall complete with guards and a check point?

This… this was certainly not what he expected to find at all.