I changed some of the runes on the table to include ‘Time’, ‘Craft’, ‘Clay’, and ‘Hold’ to hopefully create a holding field that allowed me to sculpt a creation together or at the very least a form for a new servant to inhabit. The Skeletons and Zombies froze immediately and turned weightless as they floated lightly above the table. I grinned, manipulated my aura into much more useful hands to move the pieces together and then I smashed them all together into a large mass of bones and rotting flesh that knit together as if it was always as it was. The flesh squelched as I pulled out all of the bones in the mass and began rearranging them in the shape of a human. After getting the general shape I used some of the extra parts to throw an additional 3 sets of arms for a total of 8 making it look… far too short like a centipede rearing up so I added another set of legs onto the existing set and another set of ribs to elongate the torso. I scratched my chin in thought before throwing every single skull on top of the first one. Like a totem pole, my servant looks like a totem pole. I removed the heads and attached a few vertebrae to the top of the body and attached two more skulls. I took a set of arms and molded the hands into a spiked mace made of bone before I reattached it to the main body. I made small modifications to some of the bones to make them extra durable by melding the extra bones into the legs and weapon arms of it.
The legs were thicker than a tree trunk after being given all the remaining leg bones to bolster it. The skulls had the next modification, the skull on the left shoulder was sculpted to give it horns which made the rest of the skull a bit smaller. The middle skull actually was just bulked up with the leftover skull, given a curve to the mouth to give it an malevolent grin, and removed the eye holes in its entirety. The third skull on the right shoulder had no mouth but 6 eyes in a pyramid shape directly in the middle. Content with the skulls I moved on to the ribs which I combined with the ribs of the remaining pieces, lengthening them to fully encapsulate the chest in a chestplate of bone. Looking at the 8 arms I decided that was too much and combined a set into the weapon arms and a set into the regular arms which bulked them up considerably. I focused the bulking to the connection points on the torso making sure they were firmly attached to the chestplate. Now the torso was too long! I condensed the spinal column to thicken it up and then took a step back to appraise my work.
It floated before me a behemoth of a skeleton with 3 menacing heads, a barrel chest with four arms as thick as legs, on top of long tree trunks for legs. I polished all of it to a nice matte white, took a step back to appraise my work, which delighted me. I went to add some additional runes to the summoning table namely ‘Soul’ ‘Rise’ ‘Intellect’ but as I made my way around the table I noticed the mass of flesh. I stopped and went back to work as it would be a waste of perfectly good flesh otherwise. I quickly covered the construct with the flesh but that was a mistake as now it looked like it was wearing the flesh like a sheet instead of looking cohesive. I tried to make it form better and it stuck to all the bones I had leaving the weapons on the weapons arm uncovered and kept the use of flesh minimal. After some amount of time I was finally happy with what I managed with the flesh and took a step back once again to evaluate it.
It was much the same as last time but the addition of the flesh made a qualitative difference in its presence. The heads each had a thin layer of flesh over them except for the middle skull which was only given flesh to form a tongue in its grin. The skull with the 6 eyes I formed the flesh into small black eyes that fit perfectly into each of the holes. The chest and body also got a thin layer giving only the spine some flesh not bothering to add a proper stomach. The chest was given more flesh to add even more padding. The arms looked absolutely massive and strong, the flesh being sculpted into thick strands of muscle. The legs also got covered in flesh but not as much as the rest of the body giving its legs a light translucent sheen. The leftover flesh was sculpted in a pair of bat-like wings that required me to summon another skeleton to disassemble to add proper structure. They should work if enchanted properly. I walked around the table to add the runes and summon a truly formidable servant.
The runes were the same as usual with ‘Intellect’ ‘Flight’ and ‘Craft’ being added at various spots. I began to channel my magic and felt a much stronger pull on my magic than usual as the table and runes flooded with magical energy. I watched my creation get engulfed in a whirlwind of power that slowly filled it. My chest thrummed with power similar to a heartbeat and I felt the Gem that was hiding inside me without me realizing. I thought the Gem was consumed in my ascension. Power continued to pour out of me until I felt weak and it finally slowed to a trickle and it sent me down to a knee. I watched as the power was absorbed slowly by my new servant, excitement and accomplishment were my companions as the spell got closer to finishing. Soon I thought Soon…
—
Light shone through a window into the eyes of a sleeping form. Bedraggled, shoulder length brown hair was stuck across their face in a drooling mess but still left the eyes uncovered to be hit by the light. “Augh…” they grunted groggily then covered their eyes with a single bronze colored hand. They removed their hand quickly with a sheen of drool on the bottom of the hand. “Yuck” they took their hand across their entire face wiping off the remaining spit and regulating their hair behind their ears. “Fuuck… I am not going to be able to go back to sleep” grumbling they slid out of bed and grabbed the clothes laying on the ground and began to dress.
The clothes were still muddy from the previous work day but why clean it when it would get dirty again? They rummaged around their pantry and found a loaf of bread and an already cut wheel of cheese. As they gathered both they sat down at a weathered, worn, and scored wooden table with a dagger stabbed into it. They ate their meal silently while staring at the wall where a muddy, heavily used shovel leaned against. It had a head made of steel and a blackened oak handle that had a name engraved into it ‘Grave Stones’. They always hated the name because their father picked ‘Grave’ because he was starting a grave keeping business and wanted a name that would fit himself and his kids…, kid, whatever. It was even the name of the company without the space. They were the gravekeeper and today was just yet another day of digging holes. Grave grabbed their shovel, their muddy leather duster, and left the comfort of home.
It began to rain almost immediately upon leaving their home. Grave hummed and trudged to the nearest plots. The ground and grass was undisturbed aside from some discarded flowers. Grave gathered up the flowers who were dead and shoved them into a pouch at their side. A large tree loomed over the next section of the graveyard; thick, long branches stretched towards the dreary sky while the leaves hung like hair from the boughs lightly touching some of the larger gravestones. Grave stuck their shovel into the moistened and softened ground and kept cleaning.
It took a few hours before the graveyard was properly cleaned and the sun was almost to its highest point in the sky. Grave sat inside of a new building with coffins on display and a well lacquered counter that Grave was behind. Grave used a small knife to cut into a piece of wood that was just a bit too large to fit into their hand. Wood shavings were piled up behind the counter, unseen, but a confined mess. The front door opened, hitting the small bell that rang into the relative silence of the shop. Heavy, metal clad footsteps came in and the easily recognizable form of the Captain of the Guard, Kreal Neriz, wearing a suit of armor with a blue gambeson, no helmet though never wore a helmet. Kreal was a handsome man, Short hair mostly black with some sprinklings of white that was showing more and more over the past few years. A silver mustache across his lip that was full and well kept twitched when the man got too worked up.
Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.
“Grave, we have a carriage full of corpses from today’s hanging. Would you like them put near the morgue?” Kreal spoke softly but his voice always carried well. Grave scowled and replied
“Another carriage?! That is the third this week! It is only Thirdday at that! I’ve just finished putting the first batch in the ground yesterday and was going to start on the second today! 500 gold for this batch lest they fester while I manage the usual amounts of holes to dig. Will have to hire Litinerous to preserve them while I work!” The knife dug too deeply into the wood and chopped what was beginning to look like an ear off . Kreal grimaced for only a moment before placing a large sack of what sounded like coins onto the counter. “The rebellion has grown, it feels…” Kreal trailed off and then turned around and left without saying another word. Grave grabbed the bag and began counting.
Grave stood by the carriage holding their shovel by leaning it against their shoulder, head caked in mud. It was a noble’s carriage that much was apparent since it was twice the size of the 2nd carriage that they have yet to bury. Grave went to the back of the carriage and opened the covering cloth. The scents of death seeped out of the now open carriage and 5 bodies laid, shoulder to shoulder on the floor. All wore the same roughly sewn white outfit all criminals wore, lots more blood covered them now the area around the neck stump was particularly bloody. Certainly not a hanging, their heads all stared at the pink neck stump, slack jawed, bloodshot eyes, partially closed lids, gray, waxy, skin. Only nobles get beheadings, which means… bah what should Grave be concerned about? They are just more holes to be dug
So dig is what Grave did. These bodies needed to be properly processed so that they decompose well without much undue smell or fluids that always seemed to find a way to the top of a grave, if you did not drain the corpse first that is, or animals that smelled death and wanted an easy meal. But the first step was always to dig the holes. It took the rest of the day for them all to be dug properly, but it should make getting them all interned into the graveyard easy and quick. Litinerous, the Preservation Wizard, was next to the carriages when Grave went to double check on them.
“Are you in need of my services, Gravekeeper?” Litinerous asked in a raspy, grinding voice.
Grave pulled out a smaller pouch from their waist and tossed it to the old wizard who adeptly grabbed the pouch from the air and quickly had it disappear inside the folds of his old black robe. “Always a pleasure, Gravekeeper” was the only response as Litinerous began to channel black and green magics. Grave collected their shovel and headed back to the house.
The rain never stopped and the squelch of boots in mud was the only thing accompanying Grave back to their house. Finally inside the safety of home, the shovel was carefully set against the door frame and the muddy boots and clothes were left in a pile next to that. Grave put wood shavings, and wood into the stove and used a flint and steel to ignite it all. Flames danced in their eyes as it warmed the house and the pot of water that Grave had set onto the stove. Grave stood there staring into the fire until the pot began to boil and steam. Barely pulling themselves away to tend to the boiling water, a hunk of meat, onions, and some potatoes was thrown into the pot. Grave resumed to watch the fire while their dinner cooked.
Grave awoke in their chair the fire had died down into embers plunging the room into mostly darkness. Grave exhaled the breath turning into fog and stood to add more wood to the embers, but was interrupted by their stomach growling. They shuffled to a bowl and spoon that they held in one hand and a log in the other. The embers were covered by the log that was thrown into the fireplace and Grave lowered the bowl into the pot to scoop up some stew. It was cold, not even room temperature as Grave quickly drank down what they could before a loud bang from outside grabbed their attention.
Grave moved fast to their trusty shovel before shoving the door open and yelling “Who’s there?” Grave looked about, on guard “Come out! Or join the dead!”
Silence was the answer but Grave strained their ears and heard a very quiet shuffling noise. Orienting on the noise, Grave raised their shove in defense and approached. A grave was unturned with a large absence of the corpse Grave had placed there at the end of their day.
Grave yelled “You bastard! Do you know how much work it is digging graves all day!” As before only the wind and the shuffling, which Grave assumed was the corpse being dragged, answered at least the shuffling was getting louder. Grave continued to follow the shuffling and realized it was heading towards the cart of headless corpses.
The hell do they want with those stiffs? Grave wondered while they rushed over to the cart, shovel held tightly, and saw the flap to the back falling back into place. Please just be a greedy bastard and not an undead Grave kept repeating for while they were confident they could handle it the dead trying to kill you was terrifying enough as is. Grave ripped open the flap to the cart and immediate yelled as they did it
“Alright you fucker! What are you doi- What the fuck!”
The creature was definitely undead as it had the pale waxy skin of a corpse and the legs of one of the devoured corpses sticking out of its mouth. It was tall, no arms, only two legs but the torso and head were combined into a cavernous maw that was as wide as the chest and opened just as wide, two small pinpricks of white and black that were the apparent eyes swiveled in opposite directions before both stared at Grave. Grave took an involuntary step back which the creature was looking for and it began to slide its feet forward but it moved as if on wheels. Grave was forced to dive to the side as the creature tore through the spot Grave was just standing. They scrambled to their feet and took hold of the shovel in both hands and prepared to fight the ugly creature in front of them. The creature groaned as it was sprawled on the ground but it wildly kicked its legs and managed to find the combination of movements that brought it back onto its feet.
“I think I’ll call you Leggy” Grave said in a voice that definitely for sure sounded calm and collected and not like a teenager going through puberty. Leggy responded with another groan as it shuffled towards Grave who screamed and swung the shovel sideways and into Leggy’s bulbous head torso thing which barely knocked it off course from turning the gravekeeper into a snack. This time while it struggled to get back to its feet Grave raised the shovel over their head and slammed it down into the creature's legs. Once. Twice. Three times they swung and on that final swing the knee splintered and detached partially from the rest of Leggy who screeched and rotated its body to take a chomp out of Grave’s own leg. Grave reacted quickly but not fast enough as a chunk was torn from their thigh and blood started flowing freely. Grave cursed at the pain but still brought their shovel to bare and smacked Leggy in the mouth. Leggy screeched again but Grave did not let up, continuously driving the head of their shovel into the creature as old blood, flesh, and bones splattered the ground.
“Stay!” Thwack “In!” Thump “The!” Crack “Ground!”
Squelch the creature's torso head deformed and Leggy’s movements become less active. Grave kept swinging until their arms couldn’t lift the shovel again and they fell onto their ass, panting and covered in gore.
What the hell Grave asked themselves I’ve never seen an undead raise like that.
Grave's leg was burning and they realized they were getting sleepier as blood continued to pump from their leg. They couldn’t get up and realized with horror that the strength to even move wasn’t there. They fumbled at a pouch at their side pulling out a potion made of swirling black liquid and downed it in one large gulp.
These always taste worse than they look, Grave thought as more warmth filled his body and the bleeding slowed but the strength never fully came back to Grave. Deciding to deal with this tomorrow Grave’s began the slow, painful crawl back to the cottage. I hope the stew is warm.