Nora clutched the front of her shirt, careful that the necklace she wore didn’t jangle. She eyed the horrific stranger as he stood with his arms behind his back, cursing him in her mind for what he’d done to Uncle Von.
The man, or skeleton, or whatever it was wore a dark black robe that draped down his shoulders to his feet, with purple inlays of silk. His boney head glistened against the sun, and green smoke seeped from his eye sockets. Embedded within his forehead was a golden symbol of some sort, a triangle with carvings in it that Nora did not recognize. Whenever the man spoke, his jaw yapped up and down, but there was no tongue—only a maw of that same ethereal magic that flowed from his eyes.
“Quite a lovely atmosphere today, don’t you think?” The stranger asked in a voice that was all too proper, marred with an otherworldly hiss.
Nora didn’t respond, fearful that her internal cursing would slip out and anger the stranger. She dreaded the thought of what he would do if she’d angered him. She prayed that the light and obelisk would protect her, and that the paladin warden in town would be able to vanquish this horrid creature.
Something thrummed within her hand clutching the necklace. She closed her eyes and squeezed it tight. It was a shard of the holy obelisk, giving her confidence that her prayers would be answered.
***
===
Jevrick’s Main Quest: Find Maplebrook
Side Quest: Revive Random Uncle
Maplebrook’s Population: 999
===
This cart ride had been rather boring, and a tad awkward. The teen girl that was my guide hardly said a thing, and I got that sense from her intense staring that she’d wish to kill me. I admired such a desire, as such a prospect was admirable - to slay one’s enemy. It was also foolish. I wagered she was a tad smarter than her uncle, keeping such thoughts to herself. Even if she had confessed her desire to rid my existence from this plane, I wouldn’t do anything about it. Perhaps I’d warn her about my protective charm.
“You know,” I said, “I’d be careful attacking me. I wear a protective charm, you see.”
She didn’t respond, just continued to glare at me. Oh well, I did my part anyway. She turned and clutched her chest again.
I was rather curious what was lingering there that she was so desperately attached to, and I had considered using my sight to peer between her fingers, but that hardly seemed appropriate to do. I did, however, peer upon her anima.
With a flicker of vision, an aura of energy like white steam overlaid her body. Floating around her were words that only I could see (or anyone who possessed the same power as I), and it was clear to me in an instant what she was.
===
Name: Nora Jakoby
Anima Level: 0
Age: 13
Lineage: Human
Class: Apprentice Carpenter (Might)
Status: Healthy
Conditions: Soul-Bonded
Stats:
Might: 6
Agility: 10
Intellect: 8
Wit: 10
===
Yes, quite clear—there was nothing special about her, save for that condition: Soul-Bonded. With what, I wondered? Indeed, my curiosity piqued, and I suspected the bonded item was what she was so desperately clutching beneath her shirt. But alas, that was none of my business, so I focused on the rough dirt road and the splendid array of trees.
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Before too long, the road opened up to a bustling town, an azure lake off before it, and a fine river babbling through it. There were no walls, but many houses and other buildings that surrounded the cobble road that bisected it.
Several guards waited at the edge of the village, but I decided it would be best to pull over before they saw the self-animated cart. With a snap of my fingers, the wooden ride halted at the apex of the hill we had ridden up.
I hopped out and rubbed my wearied bones. It was time to decide how I’d like to approach this town. Seeing as how my visage obviously was quite frightening to the common man—a factor I hadn’t considered since I left my servitude with the Cult of Dread—back then I hardly cared if people were scared of what I looked like, as their emotions were quite inconsequential as I was making them dead and undead. I needed to consider how I might properly treat with the town.
“Ah!” I said, turning to the shriveled body in the cart.
Nora eyed me as I approached it.
“Don’t worry, young Nora, I won’t harm him.” Well, I suppose I had already done the harming. I had truly meant to add ‘anymore,’ but the word didn’t make it to delivery. No matter. I used my power of sight to observe the man’s body. Sure enough, his anima remained intact for the time being. It was like a tangle of yarn dangling in the air about his chest, a single string tethered to his heart.
===
Name: Von Jakoby
Anima Level: 0
Age: 57
Lineage: Human
Class: Journeyman Carpenter (Might)
Status: Dead
Conditions: Decay (18-68 hours)
Stats:
Might: 13
Agility: 8
Intellect: 10
Wit: 10
===
Bodies didn’t tend to separate from the soul until it was either completely destroyed, enough time had passed, it was given a proper burial, or the soul was extracted by someone like me. His soul being attached should have allowed for a full resurrection if I hadn’t been interrupted. Unfortunately, the materials I needed for such a ritual had incinerated upon the initial attempt. I’d need to find the appropriate materials if I would try again, though I had only a day or so to begin the ritual before the body reached a decay threshold. Once that happened, it was a coin flip whether or not the anima stayed strong enough to keep the soul tethered to it. I could use a soul gem to extract the soul to keep it from wandering into the afterlife—but I would still need to construct a new anima to house it, as well as keep the body preserved so that he didn’t die again from organ failure. That was one of the few tediums that came with resurrection in my field of magic. I could bring him back as a subservient creature easily enough, but to bring him back to his true self—well, there were some things that Zyon worshippers and clerics had over me. Few, but powerful to be sure.
Regardless, the items I needed to begin the resurrection ritual were common enough, save a soul gem as a binding agent, which I had. So, as long as I was able to begin the ritual before decay really set in, he would be fine. Still, I slipped the soul gem into my sleeve in case I needed to siphon the soul much sooner.
“Would you like him to live again?” I asked the girl.
Her eyes widened, and her lips quivered. “Wha-what—”
I tilted my head. It wasn’t a difficult question, the answer was what I assumed to be yes. However, I gathered she might have thought I was referring to raising him as an undead thrall—a skeleton or zombie or something. “Oh, no, no.” I waved my hands. And pointed at my skinless face. Though I was no thrall, I was sure the suggestion would clarify my intent clearly. “Not like this, my dear. As he was. A spry, eh. . . wise man.”
Her face softened, but she watched me with lingering trepidation. “How would you do that?”
“Magic, of course. Perhaps a dash of science. And some gold coins for the means!” I smiled.
She grimaced.
Hmm, it’d been quite some time since I’d interacted with a human, or any sentient being that wasn’t a part of the Cult of Dread. I was certainly missing something in this interaction, but I wasn’t sure what it was entirely. Certainly smiling was a custom of friendliness and trust? Oh well. . . “Anyway,” I said, “I will go into town and acquire the things I need to start the ritual. Watch your uncle and make sure he doesn’t go anywhere!” I said jokingly. My attempt at levity went unappreciated, but I chuckled to myself and continued on.
I snapped my fingers, finally realizing what it was that was so frightening to the girl: my face! Hah! I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. I was about to walk into town with my skeletal visage, and certainly would have run into more ill-encounters. Quite foolish of me not to put that together previously, but again, I hadn’t seen a living person in a long time.
I reached into my satchel and shifted over the purple soul gem, vials, spellbook, and plucked out my glass mirror. My bony structure glistened with the sun’s radiance, and the triangular binding cap on my forehead looked to be in pristine condition. I looked into my smoking hollow eye sockets, and admired the work that had been done to keep me so preserved. Sure, I looked like a walking skeleton, but I was much more than that. I was still a person, just the flesh had long turned back to dust and my organs had kept a celestial well fed - my mind and all else remained, perfectly existent due to this lovely artifact. All high ranking members of the Cult of Dread wore one, though mine was quite unique in its gold etchings and mandarin center.
Anyway, that was enough self-admiration. I waved a hand over my face. My satchel fluttered open as the components needed for the spell swirled around me and materialized. In a mere moment, I wore the face of my youth - a strapping warm tone, with thick eyebrows, and short black hair. My skin was rather stiff, and I did some squinting exercises to get myself acquainted with the feature. My face stretched and pinched as I contorted it in all sorts of ways. When I was finally happy, I put away my mirror and took a jaunt into town.
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