Fantasy Terrorchild: Awakening

[bat_hacker]

1

 

[Breadman]

3

 

[dikdik]

111111

 

[Damian0358]

1

 

[turtwigwins]

1

 

[hardcore.munchkin]

1

 

[K0mori]

1. Seek Jannava - "...That might actually be a good idea," you admit. "This seems like a pretty good time for necromancy."

"Okay," Embryx replies exasperatedly with a nod. "At least you haven't completely lost your head today..."

You snicker at her. "Don't count it out," you warn. "I would have asked you to take the plunge if you were going to make yourself difficult."

Wearily, she nods. "...I'll be waiting for you outside, sister."

---
​

You emerge from the sanitorium wearing the old wide-brimmed hat that Corrinth gave you. True to her word, the garment has held up well against the elements and does a good job of keeping the rain off of you on days like these - so well, in fact, that Embryx got a similar hat made, but with the addition of a small armor plate to help protect her when she's on the road. Today doesn't call for that sort of protection, however, and so you find her dressed in a heavy wool coat, recently-treated with lanolin.

The two of you walk southward until you reach the castle walls before turning to trace the path around them. It's the most straightforward route to reach a part of the city that you rarely get the chance to visit. As there's little protection from the elements, here, you have the road mostly to yourselves aside from the occasional city guardsman on horseback, disinterestedly making their rounds and daydreaming about their spouses at home. Feeling at ease, Embryx decides to test and see if you're in that "conversational" mood she claims is so rare.

"So, Agranne..." she says, shooting you a glance from beneath her silvery bangs - she keeps her hair a distinct style found mainly in Aelesh, wherein two tresses on either side behind the ears are allowed to grow beyond a shaggy bob, and are then braided, looking much like tassels in the wind. She's even embedded silver, spade-like jewelry into the tips. By contrast, you keep the fur on your head trimmed short, aside from a silky, unkempt thicket on the top of your head that seems keen on flopping over one of your eyes any time you step into the elements. In short, you prefer hats. "...Do you ever think about getting out of here?"

You shrug. "Sometimes," you answer. "...It's not like anything's changed. There's nowhere in a day's ride that I can go where Diala won't track me. By day two, she'd have the crows after me, and I probably wouldn't make it to day three."

"Yeah, not without wildshape," Embryx concedes. "That's why she won't let us learn it, I'd bet; as long as we can't fight her and we can't outrun her, it's moot, isn't it?"

You nod. "...Things aren't as bad as I thought they'd be," you reply, bleakly. "She takes well enough care of us."

Embryx studies you for a moment, and then appears crestfallen at your resignation. "...You'd kill her if you could, though, right?" she asks in a very small voice, her eyes darting around in paranoia.

You nod without a care, letting rainwater splash off the brim of your hat. "Nothing's changed," you reply, which seems to reassure her. "How about you?" you ask.

Embryx laughs nervously. "That's... also moot," she says with a self-effacing smile. "If it were either of us, it'd be you. I just hope I'd live long enough to see it. Hey," she adds teasingly, "if you ever get the answers you're looking for, you know, to revive your sister and all that... Would you stop there? Like, if I were dead, would you, uh, bring me back?" she asks, hopefully.

"Depends on two things," you answer, blandly.

"Well!?" she says, a smile that's more angry than amused ripping through her previously innocent expression in outrage.

You sigh and roll your eyes. "...Do you honestly think that it'd be so easy to resurrect someone that it's only a matter of learning how? I'm half-expecting it to involve some kind of bloody sacrifice, or offering up more than just my soul to Syrith. Haven't you ever considered that? ...That my sister's soul is in Syrith's hands because that's the pledge Rigatte made to her? I can't just take what belongs to the Eldest without giving her something in return, I guarantee it."

"Okay..." Embryx quickly backs off. "So that's one problem. What's the second thing?"

You give her a grim, but honest smile. "Well, I suppose I'd try a lot harder if it was my fault you died."

"That's fair, I guess," she says, but her acknowledgement rings hollow. She was probably hoping that you'd say she matters more to you than that, but even after two years of working together, you still find yourself getting annoyed with how badly she wants your affection. Unlike you, Embryx had the latitude to explore Mardenaal freely almost from the beginning of your residence here. And while you were forced to remain isolated and allow Diala to control your social life, the drow went and got herself into multiple relationships - short flings, all of them - with some of the women about town. Each time she began one of these ill-fated trysts, you had the unshakable suspicion that she was dissatisfied with the notion of not having you.

A1. Unrequited - It's not because you can't imagine yourself with another woman, even if you've always imagined yourself falling for some charming young man, instead - one who's free of all the wicked temptations and hidden loyalties of your contemporaries in the coven. It's just that Embryx is... Embryx. You've never been attracted to her before, and you have no intention of starting now - she's just not your type.

A2. Unready - You just... can't imagine yourself with anyone right now. Maybe if Diala were dead, or if she somehow forgets you exist one morning, you'd indulge Embryx with a long ride out into the country where you could be alone and finally hash out some complicated feelings you've each been carrying. Hells - you've been alone long enough that any childhood fantasies about Prince Charming have gone out the window, and you'd appreciate just being held by anyone. But that's not how life works for you, and she should know that by now.

B3. Uninterested - Sometimes you wish you were a man just so that she'd feel the same way about you that you feel about her, which is to say - nothing at all. You respect that she wants to date other women, but why can't she just accept that you aren't on the menu? It's creepy, and every time she takes the conversation in that direction you have to concentrate on not lashing out at her. Two years ago, it might have been acceptable, when she could pretend she didn't see the signs... But not anymore. You need her to stop this.

 

[hardcore.munchkin]

A2

 

[Infab]

A2

 

[joshuadim]

A1

 

[asphodelus]

A1

 

[turtwigwins]

B3

 

[bat_hacker]

A2

 

[Breadman]

B3

 

[Damian0358]

B3 with an emphasis on not being distracted by stuff like this

 

[dikdik]

A1

 

[K0mori]

The vote is tied - DEALER'S CHOICE:

A2. Unready - You just... can't imagine yourself with anyone right now. Maybe if Diala were dead, or if she somehow forgets you exist one morning, you'd indulge Embryx with a long ride out into the country where you could be alone and finally hash out some complicated feelings you've each been carrying. Hells - you've been alone long enough that any childhood fantasies about Prince Charming have gone out the window, and you'd appreciate just being held by anyone. But that's not how life works for you, and she should know that by now.

Still, you could choose to be a bit more considerate of her feelings. "...Knowing how I am, it would probably be my fault," you concede.

"Yeah," she replies without elaborating. The two of you walk in silence for a moment before the absurdity of the conversation gets to you and you both start laughing.

"...and well, I'd owe you either way," you also admit. "If we're even talking about getting you back, it means you helped me get Rigatte, first."

Embryx crosses her arms, smugly. "And what about the times I've saved your life?"

You counter: "What about the times I've saved yours?"

"Four to three," she declares with a grin. "...And besides, you're the reason I'm out doing Diala's bidding in the first place. If anything, your times shouldn't even count."

You roll your eyes and sigh. "I guess," you concede again, eliciting a catty laugh from the drow. "...but then again, it's your own fault I picked you over the other two. Corrinth was just awful and Nytha was too nice to me. You, on the other hand, were just enough of a little shit for me to not feel bad about keeping you around," you say.

"Wow!" she reacts with a guffaw. "...Okay, well I'm still a little shit, and you're a dozen times worse than you used to be, and I still stuck around."

"Because Diala would-"

Embryx interrupts: "I meant as a friend."

Your words catch on your tongue. The drow has a point; she could have given up trying to get on your good side a long time ago, but she never did. All you can do right now is let her rib you and get out some of the resentment that she's been burying along the way. "...Thanks," you eventually reply.

"It's fine," she says smiling wistfully as she reflects on the years she's known you.

After rounding the corner back onto the narrow southward streets, now that you've fully rounded the castle, the two of you are forced to walk close together and speak more carefully. "One of these times when we're out on the road, we should just come up with a reason to stay gone for a day or two," you suddenly say. "Not like we're running away, but, you know, things happen. Diala can't always expect us to be back on time."

"And do what, exactly?" she replies, playing so innocently ignorant that you want to scream at her. Of course she would play dumb at the exact moment you're trying to indulge her, just a little bit. She sees your flushed reaction and teased you. "Hey, I'm joking. It'd be nice to get away, just the two of us."

---
​

Appearing out of the mist ahead of you is a very old stone building with some (relatively) recent renovations. Again, in an apparent act of urban philanthropy, the coven had purchased a previously-abandoned and burned-out building in town and converted it into an orphanage. This, of course, is a cover story, as the building happens to border a churchyard as well as sitting atop an entrance to the city's catacombs, providing multiple sources of necromantic materia for the acolytes of Syrith to abscond with.

A few of the sisters from the sanitarium told you about this place and how annoying it is to be placed on caretaker duty within the orphanage, as the job involves little more than caring for the urchins of the city. However, every once in a great while, a new witch is discovered among the lot and rescued from scrutiny via a swift adoption, and the city remains none the wiser.

There's a persistent rumor, in fact, that this is how Diala was discovered by Lythrefang.

The two of you knock on the door and are soon greeted by a heavily-exhausted young witch, whose sunken eyes suggest more than just the evil of her magic. She stares blankly for a moment before suddenly blinking. "M-may I help you?" she finally squeaks.

"We're looking for Jannava," you state. "Is she in?"

The young woman nods, and yawns into her hand before beckoning you in through the door. You pass by a gallery of gray faces, children and adolescents waiting for the day they grow old enough to work a job and experience living, or for a miracle, to be adopted by a loving family. Even your dark heart can't stand to look at them for long, as you feel a sense of shame come over you, to have neither experienced such a loveless life at their age, nor to deserve the wealth and comfort you now live amidst.

And they probably pray to Gallanis!

The thought hits you like a hammer blow, and you're forced to close your eyes and breathe, trying to suppress the abrupt surge of rage it brought with it.

"Are you okay, sister?" the caretaker asks quietly.

You pull yourself back. "Yes, I'm fine," you answer coldly, but your tone, and not the caretaker's question, is what brings Embryx to a halt to check on you.

"Let's hurry this up," she says, urging the host to move quickly. The three of you move up a flight of stairs to a small landing, where a pair of doors are closed shut, but a third is open and a half-dressed tiefling is readying herself for bed.

"Jannava," the caretaker says, "these two asked for you."

You're briefly captivated by her strange appearance, from her red skin to the dark horns protruding from her white hair and the long spaded tail trailing behind her. She sighs in genuine annoyance as she quickly throws on a cloak and scowls at you. "What do you want?" she snaps.

1. Direct - "How long can you keep a soul ripped loose from a body before it becomes permanent?" you ask. "...Because I want to put it back in once I'm done with it."

2. Indirect - "My name is Agranne, and this is Embryx. We were hoping you could discuss with us briefly about an experiment involving death."

3. Very Direct - "Your tone, sister..." you warn as a feverish smile crosses your lips. "Change it."

 

[joshuadim]

2

 

[hardcore.munchkin]

3

 

[Damian0358]

2

 

[asphodelus]

1

 

[Infab]

3

 

[turtwigwins]

1

 

[Breadman]

3

 

[K0mori]

3. Very Direct - "Your tone, sister..." you warn as a feverish smile crosses your lips. "Change it."

Jannava hesitates for barely a moment - an experienced necromancer like her is bound to have seen more than a few witches with warped minds and hungry eyes in her time. She lunges for her wand, which is resting on a table beside her bed, but she just can't beat you on the draw.

No one can.

Before she can even touch it, you've compelled her to turn and face you, and reached into her mind's eye for a bit of fear-inducing manipulation. As you fix her attitude, Embryx breezes past the two of you and picks up Jannava's wand.

"E-elder sisters...! I- I'm sorry! I didn't recognize you."

The tiefling now suitably respectful, you release her from your compulsion. "That's better," you gently tell her. "My name is Agranne of Ryggander. Perhaps you've heard of Diala's hexblooded assistant?"

Her eyes light up as she realizes who you truly are, nodding emphatically. "Yes, yes! Sister Agranne, again - I'm very sorry,"

It never cease to amuse you how easy it is to extract this sort of satisfaction from ordinary people and weaker witches. When you were a child, you used to grovel for kinder treatment in exactly this manner, but the difference was that you begged it from commoners. You were beyond pathetic back then, but even more pathetic were those who could have shown you kindness without any cost to them, but didn't.

"Our sister Embryx will return your wand in a moment, but first, I was hoping you could shed some light on a few questions I have about souls."

Jannava nods. "I'll do my best," she replies, breathlessly.

You walk over and take a seat on the edge of her bed while thinking of the best way to begin the conversation. "...When I pledged my soul to Syrith, she did something unusual and allowed me to briefly walk amongst the dead. I want to return there - today, if possible."

The tiefling looks between the two of you for any signs of a practical joke. "...That's not possible - um - the latter part, that is. A-at least as far as I know."

"Indulge me," you insist. "To see that land beyond the grave, the Eldest had to tear my soul from my body, first. I want to know, if I have Sister Embryx do the same, how long would I be able to last in that state before a return becomes impossible?"

"Seconds, at most," Jannava answers confidently. "I've dealt with sisters who've sought lichdom - to inhabit an undead body themselves - and to do that requires a special vessel to contain the soul, called a phylactery. They spend years preparing for the ritual, because they know that from the time their heart stops until they're in the Eldest's hands is just a fleeting moment."

Embryx straightens up and gives a smirk behind you. "I'm satisfied if you are," she says.

You shake your head; you have more questions. "I'm not trained in necromancy, of course," you explain, "so forgive me if this is a dumb question: How exactly does undeath differ from life?"

Jannava nods thoughtfully at the question, thinking hard on it. It's easy to give a tautological answer in this kind of situation, but she wouldn't want to annoy you by failing to address the spiritual underpinnings of the issue. "Okay... The natural soul of a living being is immortal and ageless, always in perfect health, but the body it's bound to degrades with age and eventually fails, and when it's no longer capable of hosting the soul, it releases it. Undeath, on the other hand, is either what happens when a soul is bound to a vessel which can't degrade, as in lichdom, or when the soul itself requires no sustenance to persist, as in zombies or magicked skeletons..."

When she finishes, you summarize your thoughts on the matter: "I see... When the Eldest took me from my body, it felt as if time stopped. It must have been a trick of perception - every second I experienced was a mere fraction of the time outside. But the fact remains, when I was there, I wrestled my way from her grasp and sustained my body, if very briefly, on my own magic to prevent the binding from breaking. It drained me."

"So you prevented the degradation of your body in that fleeting moment of death...? I've never heard of anyone trying that, because if they were seeking lichdom they wouldn't be wasting their magic on the body they're leaving behind. ...And it wouldn't get you anywhere in any other situation where time flows normally, either," Jannava explains.

You think about her earlier definition of undeath. "So does that mean I...?"

"Yes, if it truly happened that way... For a fraction of a second, you became undead. But that would have reverted as soon as you were back in your body."

Embryx snorts out a laugh. "Well that's a relief!"

You nod. It is a relief to know that you haven't done any permanent damage, but you still haven't found a path forward.

1. Pursue Necromancy - You look back to Jannava. "If that's the case, I need learn how to sustain undeath within myself for longer."

2. Change Course - You know that this isn't going to turn out well unless you can alter your perception of time - the way it occurred when Syrith ripped your soul out.