32nd Trial of Saun, Arc 717
Noth’s Cavern, Neronin’s Lab
In the darkness a man walked. He appeared almost normal in the lack of light. His steps were measured and his arms wrapped about some sort of bundle. It almost appeared as though the man was carrying a child, but both were uncharacteristically silent. The lights from the spacious cavern fell upon the figure. It was as though a nightmare was born. The man who walked into the light was grey. His skin seemed dead, save that the body it wrapped was moving. Black veins broke the pallid surface everywhere. He wore a grimace of concentration and a furrowed brow that made his already wretched looking face all the more dark and sinister. Out from beneath his hood, which had ridden back, poured long white hair that was stiff and slightly unkempt. He had hardly been able to go to the barber in his state so he had let the stuff grow out.
In his arms was the dead form of a large muscular hunting dog. It’s eyes stared vacantly and its tongue lolled from the mouth. He remembered a dog, long before. He had been forced to kill it though he respected it. This one, he had found dead. The man laid it down unceremoniously on the work table with his pale hands. Dark paths lead to dark rewards, and he had been on this path for a long time. His whole life, some would say.
Neronin turned and dragged forward another corpse, this one of a large forest snake. It was an auspicious trial, today was. Neronin knew he was as a point in which he could forge his own way as a necromancer. It was a point where he could diversify and become more creative. He had earned it through many years of toil, this newfound outlook. It had come, he knew, from his bout with Gavrel. He could not be a great necromancer simply by lugging around Husks and Marrows. The Maimers in the corner moaned and eyed him with their usual hunger.
There. That was an example. The Maimers were even seeming basic now. They’re creation had opened his eyes to the world of possibilities with his craft in an entirely new way. Now he would build on that. Neronin sat down behind the table and pulled his new journal close to him. With his right hand he began to write.
Experiment with dog and snake corpses. I will attempt to fuse both with the power of Corpse Molding with which I crafted the Maimers. He wrote. He paused and ran the quill’s feathered side over his jaw a few times, eyeing the dog’s corpse. He wondered exactly how he would do it. He was sure it was possible. He just needed to wrap him mind around it.
While the necromancer wrote, he swirled his fingers, a dark power crackling between them. The power curved and spiraled its way through the air. It drifted across the room and into the fat corpse of a human that lay in the darkness of an opposite corner. The thing oozed pus and smelled of decay and death. The Etzori did not seem to mind, though. He bit his knuckle briefly and resumed his writing while still exuding the necrotic power.
I will attach the snake where the tail of dog belongs. This is where the worms will go. They have been festering for nearly twelve trials now. He finished writing and set down the quill. The necromancer ceased his magical outpouring with the flexing of his nimble, grey fingers. He shook his hand out to rid it of the pricks and needles that came with extended casting on occasion. Then he stood up, drew his dagger, and sliced the tail from the dog’s corpse. Neronin tossed it into the corner where the Maimers stood without a glance.
Noth’s Cavern, Neronin’s Lab
In the darkness a man walked. He appeared almost normal in the lack of light. His steps were measured and his arms wrapped about some sort of bundle. It almost appeared as though the man was carrying a child, but both were uncharacteristically silent. The lights from the spacious cavern fell upon the figure. It was as though a nightmare was born. The man who walked into the light was grey. His skin seemed dead, save that the body it wrapped was moving. Black veins broke the pallid surface everywhere. He wore a grimace of concentration and a furrowed brow that made his already wretched looking face all the more dark and sinister. Out from beneath his hood, which had ridden back, poured long white hair that was stiff and slightly unkempt. He had hardly been able to go to the barber in his state so he had let the stuff grow out.
In his arms was the dead form of a large muscular hunting dog. It’s eyes stared vacantly and its tongue lolled from the mouth. He remembered a dog, long before. He had been forced to kill it though he respected it. This one, he had found dead. The man laid it down unceremoniously on the work table with his pale hands. Dark paths lead to dark rewards, and he had been on this path for a long time. His whole life, some would say.
Neronin turned and dragged forward another corpse, this one of a large forest snake. It was an auspicious trial, today was. Neronin knew he was as a point in which he could forge his own way as a necromancer. It was a point where he could diversify and become more creative. He had earned it through many years of toil, this newfound outlook. It had come, he knew, from his bout with Gavrel. He could not be a great necromancer simply by lugging around Husks and Marrows. The Maimers in the corner moaned and eyed him with their usual hunger.
There. That was an example. The Maimers were even seeming basic now. They’re creation had opened his eyes to the world of possibilities with his craft in an entirely new way. Now he would build on that. Neronin sat down behind the table and pulled his new journal close to him. With his right hand he began to write.
Experiment with dog and snake corpses. I will attempt to fuse both with the power of Corpse Molding with which I crafted the Maimers. He wrote. He paused and ran the quill’s feathered side over his jaw a few times, eyeing the dog’s corpse. He wondered exactly how he would do it. He was sure it was possible. He just needed to wrap him mind around it.
While the necromancer wrote, he swirled his fingers, a dark power crackling between them. The power curved and spiraled its way through the air. It drifted across the room and into the fat corpse of a human that lay in the darkness of an opposite corner. The thing oozed pus and smelled of decay and death. The Etzori did not seem to mind, though. He bit his knuckle briefly and resumed his writing while still exuding the necrotic power.
I will attach the snake where the tail of dog belongs. This is where the worms will go. They have been festering for nearly twelve trials now. He finished writing and set down the quill. The necromancer ceased his magical outpouring with the flexing of his nimble, grey fingers. He shook his hand out to rid it of the pricks and needles that came with extended casting on occasion. Then he stood up, drew his dagger, and sliced the tail from the dog’s corpse. Neronin tossed it into the corner where the Maimers stood without a glance.
