Alchemic Solutions
“Listen well boy” The elderly man said to me. He was sitting at his workshop, with many bubbling mixtures filling the glass vials surrounding him. “Real power comes from knowledge; not from some magic you were born with. What mage could get by with just their affinity? No, we alchemists are the glue that binds them all together.” He turns to face me. “I don’t want to hear any more of your bemoaning your lack of magic; you hear?”
I nodded glumly. This was not the first time that we had this talk, and it likely won't be the last. I felt cheated by my affinity with death magic. Naturally, I could not tell anyone this, however many people could tell that I resented the results of my affinity tests three years ago. Following it, I was apprenticed to the local alchemist, who was apparently an acquaintance of the light mage who evaluated me. None knew me more than my master did, and he could always tell when I had hangups about it.
He stares at me for a moment, before returning to his work. “Now, can you tell me why binding agents are so important?” I answered; “Because one must bind the impure energies to a solid, so that a pure distillation can take shape. Without it, you might as well be making a soup rather than a potion.” I received an affirmation at that. I was quickly quizzed on my studies as my master worked. I liked him; he treated me fairly, and taught me faithfully.
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I am standing at the boiling cauldron, the actions taking me back to the days of my youth. I hardly go a day without putting the alchemical knowledge to practical use. I am truly grateful to the man for his teachings; it made me the man I am today… or skeleton I suppose.
My few undead servants continually bring be supplies. I am making a batch of Inscription ink. It is a good deal cheaper than the gold I use on my own body. For a sprinkling of gold dust, i can make many pounds of inscription ink. It’s not as powerful, and is less durable than using pure gold… but these are minions; wasting gold isn’t really worth it.
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I will be needing this in the coming weeks. I need to replenish my undead servants. I have the bones. I just need the ink to start producing permanent undead. Then I will need a sealant to protect the ink, and to protect from wear and tear on my minions… then I will need to aquire more *materials* Alchemic or otherwise… I have a lot of work ahead of me.
As I am finishing up, I feel one of my minions approach. It must be back from its mission. I turned to see an awful sight. This minion was a bit different. Its main body was made up of many skeletal structures. It looked like a walking cage… and that was exactly what it is. In its large chest cavity lies a humanoid shape, forcefully held still by many skeletal hands facing inward. The man inside is bleeding little rivers of black blood from the sharp bones helping to keep him in place.
“Did you really think you could get away with what you were doing? How many people did you drain dry? Twenty? Thirty?” I demand. The vampire hisses and spits at me, but can’t otherwise move. “Who and what are you?” The beast asks me in pain and anger.
My eyes flair up. “Call me Jack. Now, let’s get those pesky arms off of you.”
I begin cutting, turning off my hearing to cut out the screams. I twist and pull the bones from the flesh of this monster. Piece by piece, I remove his arms and legs. If this was a human, I would feel bad… But vampires are monsters. They were created by demons to terrorize the humans. They keep the human memories, but none of the personality. They are as vile as you can go. I would destroy him if I could… but I needed him alive.
After three hours, I dump the strips of flesh and sinew that I harvested into a salt bath, and step back to admire my handiwork. The vampire was now just a torso, hanging from meathooks on the wall. I sealed its wounds to prevent it from dying. They can feel pain, but not as strongly as humans; so this one was still conscious… if only barely.
“Well you are a hardy fuck, aren’t you?” I chuckle wrathfully. “I’m not going to kill you. I need your blood, you see? It must have the secrets of making intelligent undead.” I pat him on the cheek, before turning to attend to my other business.