“What is a necromancer doing in these parts, and so brazenly?”
It did not make sense at all. Usually necromancers practised their unholy arts in dark caves or secluded towers; someplace hidden. The moment they came out into the open everyone would immediately pounce on them and rip them to shreds. In the rare moments where they made their presence known they usually attacked settlements before quickly retreating with the spoils of their plunder; food and corpses for she-did-not-want-to-know-what. However, from the news that was flying around this necromancer had settled in the village. It truly did not make sense.
Unfortunately, the response she was waiting for came in the form of a shrug.
“How would I know?” the undead said. “I’m not a necromancer.”
“But you’re…” the she looked around to see if there was anyone lurking nearby. When she was sure no one was within hearing distance she leaned in and whispered very softly. “… an undead. You should be as familiar with them as heat is with fire. The two go hand in hand.”
“Heat can be generated without fire,” Sage countered. “And some undead can survive without a necromancer.”
“You are not one of those undead,” Kaylee hissed. “The reason we’re here now is because you need a sorcerer to keep you from falling off the face of Aran.”
“I am capable of living without an anchor,” Sage said with a harrumph. “Just not in the Main Plane.”
“You were with that old necromancer weren’t you?” Kaylee steered the derailing conversation back. “Surely you’ve learned something about necromancers from him.”
“He was an outlier,” Sage replied, her eyes taking a far-away look. It only lasted a few seconds though before her focus returned to her. “Not the grave-robbing, corpse-looting fiend who dwells in a dark cave and gorges himself on the tears of infants and blood of virgins as you imagined.”
“I did not think that,” Kaylee shot her a glare.
This attracted a blank stare from the undead, which lasted over a dozen seconds before she turned away.
“You’re right,” she said. “You don’t seem to have much of an imagination, so I doubt you could conjure such an image on your own. Though I wouldn’t put it above the Sheans to spread such tales to scare the people. Maybe your friend Zachary has planted such thoughts into your head? He certainly appeared to be the type.”
“Are you suggesting necromancers are misunderstood?” Kaylee asked, feeling the embers of her anger rising. And did you just imply I am daft?
“We’re all misunderstood,” Sage replied silently. “Whatever you think you know of someone, you’re probably wrong. It’s a waste to try and understand others if it doesn’t benefit you.”
Kaylee perked up at the undead’s statement. Within her tone she heard melancholy, self-deprecation. Kaylee could almost feel the words not spoken, a story about the undead, the one that shaped her to be the creature she was. She would be lying if she said she was not burning to know what events had shaped Sage into the insufferable bitch she was today. But the chances of the undead telling her were abysmal to non-existent, so she would not waste time on it.
“The Guild will probably have more information,” she said, letting out a deep breath through her nose.
For once the undead agreed with her as she gestured. “Lead the way.”
As its main function was to be a transition point between two major cities, Nervahn was a small town. Its main street was only about half a kilometre long, the shops were far from as impressive as those in Yshta or even Tiih. There was no protective wall around Nervahn. Little wonder everyone was fleeing at the news of a necromancer.
The tallest and most remarkable buildings here were the Church of Life chapel and the Mercenary Guild building, so it was not difficult to spot the latter. With night falling and with the place rapidly turning into a ghost town they made it there in no time.
When Kaylee opened the doors to this branch of the Guild the differences between it and those of Tiih and Yshta immediately jumped out to her. This place, which was much smaller than the aforementioned branches, was practically empty. There were two or three people seated here and there but, together with the frightened looking receptionist, they did not number past fifteen. Also-
They look fucking weak! she thought as she watched them.
It all honesty, an individual’s strength was a difficult thing to determine just by looking at them; at least without a special skill that could do so. But as the scout of the Scarlet Quartet it had always been her job to gauge the strength of any would-be foe. Under normal circumstances she would not be able to make an estimate until they showed hostility, but the people in this room just screamed amateur. Even their weapons and gear looked subpar. Added to that they seemed to be trembling in their seats from what could only be terror.
Why are they still here then? she wondered as she made her way to the counter.
“G-good evening,” the receptionist greeted when they got there. Despite the obvious fear in her eyes, her tone was almost calm. “A-are the two of you mercenaries? Is there something I can help you with?”
“Yes,” Kaylee responded. She took out her badge and placed it on the counter. “What information do you have on the necromancer that just appeared?”
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The moment Kaylee slammed her badge on the counter the receptionist’s mood seemed to rise, but it quickly fell when she saw the three stars on it. Then she took a deep breath and offered her a smile that was so obviously, painfully fake.
“If that’s what you wish,” she said, her tone as deflated as her expression. She began her narration regardless. “The necromancer appeared roughly…” she turned back to look at the giant clock hanging on the wall before she turned back to face Kaylee “… six hours ago in the village of Hassun. Whatever his purpose in the village is we can only speculate as the only people who managed to escape were those who fled when he first appeared. What we have grasped from sending in Familiars to scout is that this necromancer still remains in the Hassun, though we are still unable to determine his purpose there. The only good news we have is that one of the Familiars managed to catch a glimpse of the dark sorcerer’s appearance and with that we were able to identify him.”
With that the receptionist marched over to one of the shelves in the back and picked up a few papers. Then she returned to the counter and offered them to Kaylee, who accepted the papers and gazed at the sketched face of a wizened man. He was the skinny sort with the distinctive features of a long face with a big nose and small eyes; all in all, not a handsome appearance.
To her side she heard the undead pose a question. “Are all necromancers old?”
She chose to ignore her and read what was said written about the individual. However, a gasp escaped her mouth the moment she read the illustrated individual’s name.
“Kezan?” she asked in disbelief, shooting the receptionist a wide-eyed stare. “The Cryptmaker?”
“Yes ma’am,” the woman at the counter replied silently, fear creeping back onto her face. “A message has already been sent to other branches in the kingdom. We’re still awaiting a response from them, although the Tiih branch did reply say they’re putting a force together.”
“Did they mention how soon they would be able to make it here?” Kaylee asked urgently.
“Unfortunately no,” the receptionist answered softly. “The Tiih branch did say they are doing their best to assemble a force and will get here as soon as they can.”
“What about the Yshta branch?” Kaylee asked forcefully. “Or the Inalla branch? What about the Sheans? How come those zealots haven’t assembled a force yet?”
“If the chapel has any plans to deal with the necromancer they haven’t communicated them to us,” the receptionist replied.
This response caused Kaylee to tsk harshly, causing the startled woman at the counter to back away. Kaylee disregarded this and took the opportunity to look around the Guild hall, realising the dozen or so people still present were looking in her direction. Young and old, slim and muscular; it did not matter because they all bore the same expectant expression. They likely believed the Church or the other branches would come through before the necromancer had a chance to turn his sights on this town.
“Utter fucking morons,” she muttered with an exasperated breath. “If the Guild and Church’s preparation are half-arsed it could lead to a massive tragedy.”
“Is this Cryptmaker guy such a big deal?”
This question was uttered in a calm voice that completely ignored the mood. Kaylee turned to the masked figure with a deep frown.
“He is a 9TH ORDER sorcerer!” she replied harshly. “Over the past century and a half he has appeared all over Rekke, slaughtering villages and besieging cities! The fiend is believed to have an army of over a THOUSAND undead which include DREAD ZOMBIES, WRAITHS and DEATH KNIGHTS! DOES THAT SEEM LIKE A TRIVIAL FIGURE TO YOU?”
The last sentence she said amidst throwing the papers at the corpse bitch. Her outburst must have taken those present by surprise, but she paid them no mind; instead focusing on calming herself down. Maybe the stress of everything that happened over the past few days was getting to her. She really needed a break from the undead.
Sage was the only one who did not have any visible reaction to her outburst. Even when she threw the papers the undead simply caught them and began skimming through them. This unresponsiveness caused her to glare at the corpse woman for a full minute while breathing heavily through her nose, after which the undead looked up from the papers and turned to the receptionist.
“This Cryptmaker guy attacked a village of the Kingdom of Ysh and you guys fear he will attack this town next,” she began stoically. “This makes it a problem for the government instead of the Mercenary Guild or even the Church of Life. Isn’t the aristocracy going to do something to about it?”
For a moment the receptionist looked unsure. “Well…” she closed her mouth after not being able to find something else to say.
“Do you really think those pompous shits will risk themselves for others?” Kaylee spoke up almost immediately after. “You’ve seen it with your own eyes, the way they treat their own subjects. The poorest are rung dry of everything they have simply to fuel their lavish lifestyles. Do you really think people like that would get off their arses if they didn’t have a personal stake in it?”
The receptionist bore a scandalous expression, probably from hearing someone blatantly badmouth the nobles. Sage on the other hand remained the same as always.
“This is an opportunity for them to build up their reputation among the populace so I fail to see why they aren’t taking it,” Sage retorted. “It’s not like they would risk anything by taking it. That Savandor guy could probably deal with this Cryptmaker guy on his own. After he does that the aristocracy could spread propaganda about how the Guild and the Church were incapable of doing it. Even if this action doesn’t amount to much it could at least make people lose a bit of faith in these two organisations. They’d be utter fucking morons not to take this chance?”
“Savandor is out of the country, on a diplomatic mission apparently,” Kaylee replied.
“Then shouldn’t they be able to assemble a team of 9th Order mages and Grade 1 warriors to gang up on the Cryptmaker?” Sage asked. “If they can’t do at least that then their reputation as the strongest nation in these parts is wholly undeserved.”
The casualness with which the undead made this statement betrayed her lack of deeper knowledge about this the world. It caused Kaylee to purse her lips in annoyance.
“The reason Grade 1 and 9th Order are held in such esteem is because of how uncommon they are,” she said snappily. “Even if the nobles band together with the Guild and the Church it would be hard to get more than a few of them to join. There are only six mages of the 9th Order in Ysh and about two Grade 1 individuals. If one of them were to fall it would considerably lessen the strength of the country.”
“Is the Cryptmaker so dangerous that even a party of such individuals is at risk of losing their lives?” the undead asked.
“He is a necromancer with an army that numbers a thousand,” Kaylee reiterated. “Some of these undead are said to be strong and intelligent like-”
She stopped herself before she could say anymore. Heart pounding rapidly at the near slip-up, she turned to the receptionist to see if the woman had caught anything. Fortunately the receptionist did not seem to have latched onto what she had said.
“So the Cryptmaker is capable of making sentient undead?”
Kaylee’s ears perked up at the change in Sage’s tone. Alarms went off in her brain, causing her to narrow her gaze on the two slits where the undead’s soul windows could be seen. In those dark orbs she saw glee and what looked like the makings of plan that she was certain she would not like.
“W-what are you planning?” she asked with a stutter.
When the undead replied Kaylee could almost see that infuriating stitched up smile behind her mask.
“I’m thinking maybe I should give this Cryptmaker a visit.”