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Fleshless
Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2020 8:22 pm
by Taelian
9th of Searing, Year 120
Necromancy had a long legacy with his people. But as much as the Remedy warned him of its evils, not all of it was so bad. It was what saved Eleanor's life. It could be used to enhance one's vitality, restore lost limbs, perform acts of healing impossible by any other means. Society's mind was far from open to it, leading some to call it 'Briomancy' to disguise its controversial origins. But . . . it was what it was. It was what it had always been: a tool, to be utilized how the wielder of that tool saw fit.
Do you understand Necromancy? Wylen had asked him.
Not well.
It's an incredible tool. It's like holding the hand of God; you can extend life, embolden it, empower it, convert it to death, or convert death to life; you can harness the intellect of other beings and implant them into others. You can craft and wield the undead. Often, I like to replicate the intelligence of dogs into other beings. From there, you can even customize...
And the man continued. He had sounded so excited. In truth most of the prospect horrified Taelian, though when he looked back upon their conversation he realized that nothing Necromancy did seemed to be as foul as the Black Sigil itself. Nullifying one's personality altogether, repressing one's soul, concealing their being. Making them blank. Perhaps Necromancy could do that too, but . . . it didn't have to. It wasn't like creating a Famished, yet another tool in Aldrin's war -- it was diverse. It could heal.
He was a Member now, so he could utilize all of the facilities however he wanted. The Necromancy 'den' as it was called had, as far as he was aware, all of the tools necessary to become a skilled Necromancer. It had slabs of refrigerated flesh, unique animal limbs, and even living animals for experimentation. Though the prospect of working on one of the room's many caged rabbits and cats felt sickening to him. Taelian decided that he would stick to the inanimate flesh - chicken breasts, all of that. At least they were already dead.
The first tool was the Carving Hook. It was as simple as he thought it was: it manipulated flesh, skin and so on, opening and moving it, shifting its proportions. Though it was a hook, it sculpted flesh fairly well from what he had learned. It could be used to finely shape things; to carve the chicken breast, for example, into the shape of a leg. Or to symmetrically rend it apart.
Taelian held the tool in hand, and began to dig the hook into the meat. It parted easily, the flesh around it shifting something like how he willed it to. But he had no idea, after that, what to do. He wasn't a skilled surgeon, nor a sculptor. Nor did he even know what the hook was really meant for. Opening things up, he supposed. And...
Altering the shape, he remembered Wylen saying. That was clear.
"Ugh," he groaned. He didn't know how to do any of it. But he supposed that was what the room was for: experimentation. Taelian decided to continue, without asking for help. At least for now.
Re: Fleshless
Posted: Sat Jun 13, 2020 10:09 pm
by Taelian
"Hey," the man called out from behind him. It was an immediately recognizable voice.
"Lethiril," Taelian replied. He began to smile almost right away, even though many of their late interactions in Frost had been... strange. The other man smiled back, raising his hand to wave and stepping forward towards the mage.
The truth was, he still closely held a place in his heart for the other man, regardless of his pressures. He had been there for him many times, and rarely had Taelian done the same for him. Lethiril had his own life, his own complex emotions, and yet the two never often delved into them. When he thought of the Ithur, his thoughts were often clouded by some form of regret. That they weren't closer. That he hadn't tried to be.
"I heard you're a Member now, like me," he said. "Congrats, Taelian. You deserve it more than most -- you're an incredible mage."
"I'm not that great," he began, humbly, "...but thanks."
The Ithur faintly grinned at Taelian's humility. That made one of them, effectively. He looked to the slab of meat rested on the table, and to his carving hook -- a tool for practice. There was suddenly a twinkle in his eye. "Practicing Necromancy?" he asked.
"...Yes, but I'm not that great at this either. Actually, I'm horrendous," Taelian softly laughed. "I'm not actually that interested in Necromancy. It's sort of a dubious thing for me -- and I would say if I were to rate its... tabooness among the Ebon Knights, I'd classify it as very taboo."
"Unsurprising," said the Dratori. He pressed his fingers along his tusks, and gently sighed, parting his lips. "It's a magic that has brought our people ruin. It's brought ruin to the Elven Gods. I would also advise against it."
Taelian's brows flattened against their ridge. He felt somewhat disappointed; there was a lot that Necromancy could do. It could heal, enhance, fundamentally alter. It even had the power to manipulate personality, and to some extent, the soul. A part of him wondered... and had wondered, if he would perhaps be able to cure his Famished state through the art.
But he didn't know. And with Lethiril nearby, it wasn't really the time to continue -- or to ask. He set down the Carving Hook and plastered a cheeky smile onto his lips, which appeared to pleasantly surprise his friend.
"You've learned to be happier, Tae," he remarked. "I'm glad."
"You too," the mage replied. "You seem less fond of trying to pressure me into empowering my magic."
Lethiril laughed. "Nope, I've come to give you your fifth Rune," he replied. Taelian almost believed him for a moment.
"Y-yeah?"
"Indeed. The Rune of sod off, knife-ears." The two of them briefly laughed.
"You're also a knife-ear, knife-ear. And you have tusks. You know, those weren't around when we were kids. Is that what happens when you bang an Ork?"
"It's what happens when your grandmother bangs an Ork, you little wraith. Besides -- it's done no small favors for my charm. Men and women alike do fancy the Vil'Ardevin boy. I'm quite famous among bards."
"Aren't you a bard?"
"Yep!"
"A tune, Leth. A tune."
"We'll save it for the dining hall, tonight. Will you be attending?" he asked.
"Sure," the Ebon Knight answered. "Bring your lute. Or I'll tell them you stole Wylen's fancy earrings. He's even complained about that to me."
"Taelian, you -- fine. A song it is."
Re: Fleshless
Posted: Wed Jun 24, 2020 7:13 pm
by Althalos
Total XP = 5
Magic Experience: Yes - for Necromancy
Injuries/Ailments: N/A
Lore Awarded:
Necromancy: Can alter souls
Necromancy: Carving Hook
Necromancy: Practicing with inanimate meat
Necromancy: The Carving Hook can twist and manipulate flesh
Spycraft: Manipulating someone with blackmail
Rhetoric: Humor
Loot: N/A (Should've taken that absolutely mangled chicken breast. It'll go to waste now.)
Comments: I really enjoyed the banter that took place during this thread. It's always pleasant to see well-written dialogue. I also think the necromancy lab sounds like an extremely metal place to hang out, and question whose cats they're kidnapping for their experiments. All in all, a good solo thread and a solid introduction to the dark arts.