I was waiting alone in the ritual chamber, robes bundled tight to ward off the omnipresent cold of the tunnels. As fortified and protected as a mountain lair was, even from the weather, it was far too cold for me to be comfortable with at least 2 layers of clothing covering every inch of skin. The ritual chamber was the worst of all, because it was a large, open space, and, despite a connection to the chimney tunnels, there was no fireplace. It was tolerable when more people, or more often, demons, were present, and it was almost outright comfortable when the whole group was channeling mana into a ritual, the sheer amount of magic fending off any chill.
But today, there was no ritual, no chanting group, no energizing charge of magic in the air. Just me, freezing my ass off, and waiting for Ulmen. Ulmen is one of the most humanoid demons I have met, but unlike Sarnakog, there was no way Ulmen could even pretend to be human. For starters, he’s red, like blood red. And he has the horns of a ram, a whiplike tail with an arrowhead tip, and 4 arms. That pretty well gives it away that he’s not human, but he also has needles for teeth, and a forked tongue, just in case someone somehow missed the fact that he’s something else. He is also my magic teacher, and one of the best magic users the demons have, especially in his fields of expertise: runes and necromancy.
To hear Ulmen tell it, necromancy isn’t really an individual magic, but a combination of several more specific magics that can be used in conjunction, and create a style of magic. He also insists on calling his own particular subdivision of the style “runic necromancy,” because he enhances his creations with runes. He’s mostly been teaching me runes, because he is adamant that runes are more generally applicable than necromancy, and if I’m ever sent on an infiltration mission(unlikely, I’m about as sneaky as a drunk elephant covered in whoopie cushions), it would be important for me to have a form of magic I can use around non demons, especially other humans. Runes can also be used with magic other than necromancy, and apparently every soldier and adventurer worth two shits knows a few basic runes to make camping and traveling easier.
I shiver again, wishing that I could wear more layers, but the demons still don’t trust me not to hide means of stabbing them in the back, which is fair enough, I suppose. I definitely would stab as many as I could given the chance, but for now I’ll cooperate. My kidnappers are my only ticket home, which I would almost find amusing, if I weren’t being strong armed into fighting other people who have been kidnapped and forced to fight for a cause that’s not theirs.
Ulmen walks in, interrupting my reverie, and gestures for me to join him at the table he brought with him. I sit down, directly across the table from him, while he takes a moment to light a beautiful wooden pipe, which creates a bit of juxtaposition, and a lot of smoke. He sets down a leather bound tome, unadorned save for a metallic clasp that is covered in runes that crawl and move across its surface, glowing an ominous dull red. If ever there was a book about necromancy, this would be it.
I looked on as Ulmen opened the book, which was primarily about the different applications of runes, and turned to where we left off. According to Ulmen, I’d progressed to what he considered to be approximately the abilities of a rune focused journeyman, in about the same timeframe it would take for a normal person to be a capable apprentice. I figured that it was partially a result of being dragged into a magical world, partially a result of how school back home worked, and partially because I always had a talent for remembering things.
Anyways, today Ulmen is teaching me how to alter any traps I might make, to make one type of trap look like another. It’s devious, almost downright evil. One can make an alarm with runes, and disguise it as a lock that triggers the alarm when opened. Ulmen proudly displays his own variation on the spell, which explodes violently, if the lock is opened without the key, which has its own set of runes, which is the actual key. He draws simpler versions of rune locks, alarms, simple explosive traps similar to mines, and had me alter them into specific different traps without changing how the runic inscription looks, at least too much. There is only so much you can alter one before it is obviously not what it was originally.
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“Alright, that’s enough of the general stuff, back to the useful runes that can be used to enhance your minions, even living ones, though it works best on the undead.” The demon’s gravelly voice has never sounded sweeter, I was almost out of safe inscriptions to alter, and would have had to work on more of the landmine ones. I drag myself back to the table, which the bastard had set up well clear of anything that might go boom, and flopped into my chair like a fish onto land.
“I already taught you the basic physical augmentations I use, so you should know those. List them.”
“Enhance Speed, Strength, Durability. Fire Resistance. Light Resistance. Shatter resistance for the skeletons. Hivemind, so your orders aren’t intercepted or otherwise heard. Spectral Armor. Toxic Edge. Those are the ones we’ve gone over,” I answer dryly; we do this dance once every few days, so by now I have each list memorized and on stand by for his pop quizzes. I was not prepared for the first one, which was…. Unpleasant, to say the least.
“Good, those are mostly standard for making sure minions aren’t one-off resources, but the more powerful inscriptions are a bit more niche than this youngling garbage. There are, of course, stronger versions of the ones you mentioned, as well as special ones, like Soul Parasite, which causes the minion to absorb untethered souls nearby. A good way to get rid of annoying ghosts and powerup a minion, because each soul provides more physical and magical power to the thing, often ending up creating the massive abominations that necromancers use as siege breakers and for pissing contests.” Ulmen pauses here to puff on his pipe, before continuing. “But the best minions you could create would be intelligent undead. Now, that’s just theory, because I haven’t heard of anyone making an intelligent undead, or even a golem. They’ve only been found in areas with extremely high mana density, and even then only rarely.”
“What’s so great about intelligence? Aren’t mindless minions better, to an extent, because they are incapable of betraying you?” The paranoia of magic users in general, but especially necromancers is something that the lessons with Ulman made abundantly clear. All magic users wanted to protect their own secret way of doing things, thinking it will give them an edge against rivals and enemies alike, but necromancers are usually hunted down and exterminated, except by the demons, so almost all of them had good reason to be paranoid.
“What’s so great about intelligence? Mindless minions better? Ha! With intelligent undead minions, you can delegate! You don’t have to constantly direct intelligent minions, and they can even direct the mindless ones themselves, allowing for more complex and multifaceted plans. And unlike a living being, undead have no needs, so they can work tirelessly, and accomplish things even when you need to sleep.”
“...........So intelligent minions are just better because you can be lazy?” That’s all I really got from that little tirade. Sure, I can understand the general efficiency boost having thinking underlings could cause, but it seems like most of the benefits lean towards personally doing less. Which, to me, seems anathema to paranoid necromancers, but I guess that it would allow them a greater degree of safety and freedom to experiment.
“Well, it looks like it’s time to get back to altering runic inscriptions. I think, 50? Of the exploding ones should be good.” Oh, Ulmen did not like my take on intelligent undead at all.
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Gizora awoke with a start, and panicked for a moment before she remembered where she was. The tent hadn’t looked familiar at first, for some reason she had been expecting the roof of a cave? Did the collapse of the tomb affect her that much? She did have a strange dream, but she couldn’t really remember anything about it. Something about ulcers? Regardless, it was still hours before the sun would rise, so she settled back into her bedroll and went to sleep.