Steve was frozen in shock. He just sat on the ground trying to process what happened. Cold sweat dripped from his brow and splashed into the dirt below, his breathing deep and heavy. His heart pounding, his brain throbbing, and his muscles sore from the interrogation. At first, he didn’t even really feel the limb hanging limply on the side. Just watching the cleric slowly disappeared from view, a fear that the man would turn and end him with a single word–yet it never came. Even after the man’s departure, the crowds continued to avoid him. They could see the sickly smoke wrapping around his arm, black veins trailing down the skin, and the seal of Deas on his palm. He tried to force it to bend, but it refused to respond. Slowly the adrenaline started to fade and his sense of self returned. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he needed to get out.

Hiding the cursed arm under his cloak, he marched forward with new determination. A strange sense of pride overtaking his ego. He must have been the first necromancer to survive such an encounter. What a story to tell back at the commune. How he stared down a priest of Deas and was able to outwit the man. Of course he would cut at the parts where he nearly pissed himself and the whole dead arm thing. But it was still a grand story to tell and he was sure he’d level soon. His mind began plotting the tale while he searched for the trader’s guild. Was it really his new class that protected him? Maybe it wasn’t something that was as profane as a [[Necromancer]]. [[Friend of the Dead]] sounded nice. Who knows if he died he might be able to feast with the god instead of becoming the food.

After a few minutes of searching, he saw the worn signpost. It wasn’t as busy as expected. Well he wasn’t honestly sure how busy backwoods trade-post was, but he expected at least somebody else. Kicking the dust off his boots, he stepped inside and crossed over to the post-board. Just have to focus on step one–Find a way out without being noticed…Well that second part failed, but he could still accomplish the first. The clerk gazed up as Steve perused the various calendars, specials, and most importantly rates. After a few moments the clerk stepped out from the back.

“Do you have anyone leaving for today? The destination doesn’t matter but closer to Avestin if possible”

The clerk gave him a strange look.

“Hmm, and what might you be transporting?” The man asked

Steve wasn’t sure if it was an innocuous comment or something more sinister. After the encounter with the cleric he couldn’t let his guard down. Dammit, why didn’t he think about this before. Of course just asking for random travel would be a flag.

“Oh, I’m a [[Apprentice Apothecary]] I’m on a training mission to find new ingredients. I just have supplies for preserving materials.” If the lie worked once, it should a second time.

The clerk stared for a few seconds before pulling out his notebook. His fingers rapidly flipping through the various pages until settling on one route. Holding the book towards Steve he spoke.

“6pm departure, destination: Stillwood. Three days of travel from here with another day and half of travel to Avestin. Known for lingering magics after an accident occurred at a nearby mage tower. It isn’t too dangerous, but if you looking for material this might be a good starting spot”

Steve was impressed, he must have used some skill to gain basic information. The man had to be at least late 10’s or early 20s to have such a useful ability. Honestly, What a waste of talent for such a place. Fumbling into his pouch, he pulled out a few coins to tip. The clerk nodded before helping him claim a spot. Half of the payment would be collected now and the other half at the destination. He’d have to bring his own food and supplies.

“We don’t have a contractor but I can personally say this driver is one of the best. Just sign here”

Steve figured one of those magical lawyers wouldn’t ride all the way out here. That was good at least, they were brutally efficient at their jobs. Writing out his fake name, he thanked the clerk once more and left to grab supplies. Step one down, now to find something to hide the zombie.

There should be some carpenters or tailors around here. He needed something that could pass for his job. The burlap sack was out, the movement would be too obvious. A barrel should work, something he could shove the body into and cap. As he walked the streets trying to find the perfect container, he could feel the watchful eyes of the Cleric. Every time he turned, the man was there. While the priest wasn’t directly starring, Steve could feel that aura probing. The faint wisps of incense clinging to the ground.

Only when he entered a shop did it disappear. Leaning against the wall Steve took a few moments to gather himself.

“Can I help you?” The owner called out.

“Looking for a herb barrel, something that can preserve some more…exotic ingredients”

“Ahh, yes yes. I got just the thing!” The short shopkeeper led Steve towards the back.

“Enchanted with preservation and weight runes. You can carry up to 50kg of materials and it’ll feel like 5!”

“I don’t think I can afford something enchanted…do you have something more basic?” Steve asked.

The shopkeeper frowned for a brief moment, but a sale was a sale. Continuing through the claustrophobic store, he pointed out a few wooden containers. They were clearly of low quality, the iron partially rusted and the wood cracked. But for what Steve wanted, it was perfect.

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“You want this delivered or are you carrying it?” He asked.

“I can carry, do you have any straps?”

“Straps extra!” The man exclaimed.

“uhh…Fine” and Steve’s purse lightened

Steve was struggling, it wasn’t so much the weight of the container but the loss of his arm. The strap is constantly digging into his shoulder–cutting off circulation. He could only take a few seconds before having to stop and adjust. Thankfully, carrying two to three corpses at a time gave him a good chunk of muscle. While he might be studying the arcane, he didn’t look like one of those bookish wizards in class.

“Apprentice” Steve froze, why couldn’t that man leave him alone.

He could feel the weight lift from his back, turning around he saw the nearly nude man casually holding the barrel in one hand. Why did all priests have to be so…weird? Some ate nothing but gruel, others never spoke, and now this man was a nudist.

“Thank you…Sir. I was just grabbing supplies for my next expedition” He was blabbering, he could tell that the incense was messing with his head.

“Call me Khul, Let’s talk.”

“Uhh, I’m really busy right now and my teacher only gave me two weeks too…”

A hand grabbed his shoulder and the oppressive power flowed over him.

“We chat” He smiled

Steve couldn’t resist. He was trapped once more and had to play along.

“I’m staying at the local inn, we could walk?”

“PERFECT” His voice is loud and boisterous. The man was…different than before. What has changed?

The crowds parted as the two walked through the streets. Steve led the way while Khul trailed partially behind.

“So who is this teacher of yours? I’ve never known apothecaries to be so…hands on. Are you sure he isn’t a hidden [[Alchemist]]?” Khul asked in a casual tone.

Dammit, the lie was already unfolding. It was true, most apothecaries were local. Their class is the base for many others. They were unspecialized experimenters that could brew healing potions, medicine, poisons, and even beer. As they progressed, many ended up transforming into more focused classes and moving to larger cities. Sure there were a few that kept their original, but their products could never outcompete a specialist at a similar level. Only those with a passion for helping took it to the high levels, traveling between small villages and helping where they could. They tended to not experiment but follow recipes from others, only adjusting as needed.

“I don’t know about that! The old man can’t remember his own name sometimes” Steve chuckled trying to blow it off

“Besides, I’m sure he was offered some other classes. He just doesn’t want to commit, or so I’m told”

“You still haven’t told me his name…” Khul cut straight to the point.

“Edwin, Edwin Faust” The man was dead but the best lies always had some inkling of truth.

“Ahh…I’ll have to pay him a visit. Maybe next time he will properly educate you on what to collect…”

Breathe Steve, act normal. It is just a conversation. The man is just curious, there is no need to sweat. Stop glancing back, just talk and walk. It’ll all be over soon.

“Do you know there is a [[Necromancer]] in these parts?” Steve paused briefly. In that moment of weakness he felt the pressure of Khul flare. He could feel the hesitation.

“Oh that is horrid. How was he found?” Steve asked, he just had to play along.

“Pile of corpses, a negative zone, and the death of a few adventures. Just another blotch in Deas’ grand scheme. You know what he does to those that befoul his realm right?” Khul leaned in.

“I…uhh only heard stories in my childhood, I’m sure he is merciful though”

“HA Mercy! No he is anything but. To those that embrace the end, he is a kind guide. To others a ravenous beast–tearing apart the wicked. I’ve seen him in various guises, a loved one, a cherished pet, a roaring tiger, or even a rival come for revenge. Tell me…apprentice, What form do you think he’d take for you?”

Steve hadn’t thought about it before. He’d never interacted with the clerics since his teenage years. But deep within his soul, he knew it wouldn't be good. His path was chosen and if he couldn’t ascend to immortality, it would be a brutal end. Packing away the question, he’d have to ask Ryland what he saw at the end–That’s if they made it out.

“I am not sure, but I hope I can greet him with a smile” Steve replied with a bit of a grin. Might as well take a jab at the holy man when he could.

Khul paused and savored the answer. A genuine smile crossed his face. It looked as if he wanted to say something but ended up holding back. Turning the corner, the inn came into view.

“Here is my stop. Thank you again Khul. I hope you can get that filthy [[Necromancer]] before he causes more harm”

Khul set the barrel down near the entrance. Even carrying it all this way and he didn’t break a sweat. What was up with this sect? Was it mandatory to workout out daily? Well it did make some sense since the man was on a crusade to rid the world of the darkest of arts. He’d need to be fit and ready for battle at a moment's notice.

“No need to worry…apprentice. Nothing can escape the wrath of Deas.”

Steve offered up some water as thanks but the priest politely declined. Instead, Khul gave a slight squeeze on the shoulder then turned. He took a few steps into the street before going still, his head swiftly turning and staring at their room above. His eyes sharp as the scriptures began to unfurl once more. It only lasted a few seconds before he stopped. His head shifted towards Steve and the two made eye contact once more. The air thickened with tension as the intense stare overwhelmed the smaller man. All was silent except for Khul’s booming voice.

“Nothing escapes, remember that Steve and may our paths never cross again” Khul turned and left, leaving Steve alone once more.

He knew