|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
NecromancerFrom Tales of Eratwaen story two: The Necromancer.
Many years ago, there was a small town called Orne. This town was out of the ordinary only in the fact that it existed directly in the center of the Vetruvian Wastes. Only a few dozen people lived in this town, and most of them were poor; before the properties of Desert Gold were discovered, this was the usual fate of Waste towns. But the inhabitants of this village were stubborn, and despite the pleadings of their relatives in more prosperous coastal towns and the constant attacks from bandits and wild animalsthey even had to deal with a Wyrm attack at once timeThe inhabitants of the small town of Orne struggled on.
One cold night, after one of the rare Vetruvian rainfalls had descended from the sky and turned the sand pitch black with moisture, a young man walked into the town from the west. He was alone, and he had no visible supplies; even more ominous was his complete lack of weapons except for a small ornamental da
Woops."Shit! That was close, wasn't it?!" He cursed violently, flinging a burning mitten against a nearby black wall. "I really don't like snipers. It's like you can't even hail a can with a hostage slung over your back any more without being shot it with those stupid laser rifle things any more. Hat kind of idiot would use those, anyway? They whine when you shoot them! Who would want a whiny </I>gun</I>?!" The man glanced around uninterestedly, taking in the familiar surroundings of his old living room. "What do you think about this whole thing, mate? Oh, that's right, you can't answer, they shot you." He tossed the limp corpse onto the ground next to the smoldering mitten. "Guess I shouldn't complain, considering how close he or she or it came to turning my hand into red mist--that would've been a tragedy-- but I spent months on that one and-- And who the hell am I talking to?"
He paused in his rant, and the 'corpse' took that opportunity to groan loudly.
"Wait, what?!" The kidnapper was i
Goodnight.He lay there on his bed, trying to think. His thoughts were clouded in smoke and ashes, though, covering his mind, choking it, killing it.
What had happened? his friends wanted to know. They crowded around him like a gaggle of wide-eyed children, not realizing what was happening inside of him. A patch of his mind went blank, just for a second, but it makes him scream. His friends back away for a second, then press in, worry etched across their face--
No. They weren't his friends. He was the last. The last of what, though? A country? A culture?
Was that possible? The last member of a species? Then who was crowding around him? Who was staring at him with greedy black eyes in a face that looked concerned?
No one. It was a dream.
There was no way this could be real, he told himself. Then he yelled it aloud: "This isn't real!" he sobbed, tears streaming down his cheeks in thin shallow rivers, down creases and lines etched by
The Archaeologists of EratwaenHe had absolutely no idea what he was doing out here.
Everyone in the small town he called home knew that you didn't go oh into the surrounding forests during night--or at all if possible. Dozens of people went missing every year, though whether they strayed off the human-made path and into the path of some wild predator, whether they fell foul of some ancient hunter's trap, or whether they simply starved to death was never really determined.
He'd thought he'd seen something though; a flash of light, a glimpse of a face so familiar, of a mouth curved up in a smile and of caring blue eyes. Could it have been a vision? A hallucination, perhaps? He didn't know, but he had wanted to believe--had to believe--that it was more. He had wanted to believe that his seven-year-old daughter lived still, or at least was watching him from whatever haven she now inhabited.
Now, though, after an hour of frantic searching, he wasn't so sure.
He'd gotten lost in the uncharted forest, and now he was sure
Bad Magick: Prologue."What is it?"
"A letter, obviously! I mean, it's in an envelope for Gods' sake! What else gets sent in envelopes?"
"The severed hands of Vackovian mob enforcers?"
"...Thanks for that, Jack."
"B-But I bet it is a letter! And why would anyone send us a letter other than for a job?"
"To tell us to send you home. Is that a trick question?"
"Let's just read it, Eric. Maybe it isn't about Zane this time."
"If you really think that..."
"Hey! I've been pretty helpful for the last while! I even saved a cat from a tree-- How do you slow-clap while lighting a cigarette!?"
"Years of practice..."
"Can we read it now, please?!"
"Hold on, I have to open it first."
"What's taking so long?"
"Bloody thing... Won't... Tear..."
"Super-durable paper so nothing gets ripped in transition. Vackovians never do thugs half way."
"That's a great theory, except that the letter's from Natruvia. Remember?"
"Got it! 'To whom it may concern. I am in need of a small team of mercenaries--"
Explorer's DictationSeveral years ago, I took a short trip to Arne, the jungle-continent to the south-east of Vacko. I wasn't technically allowed to go in past the beaches, of course; the natives are very protective of their secrets and very few people alive today are allowed past the edge of the jungle. This wasn't a problem to most explorers of course; the jungles are extremely dangerous in any case and the only completely extirpated animal on Arne is the Jungle Dragons, which were only recently added to the Book of Knowledge but have been in existence for millennia. I have also heard recently that a group of Wyrms, the dangerous subterranean sentient creatures that are a threat to the entire planet, had taken up residence underneath the jungle itself, and only a small colony of Wyverns were keeping them from wreaking havoc across the entire island (though I later found this to be a falsehood).
I must admit, the appeal of the mysterious, mystic jungle, with its beautiful by all these dangers.
It appears you don't have PDF support in this web browser. Download PDF
Keep in Touch!
scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More