Thursday, April 28, 2016

Character Builder #1


character bank:

"Marcus Quinn Claudus." She told him. He stared at her.

"Claudus?"
"Mmhm."
"You're sure."
"yep"
"The survival of the kingdom depends on that flop?"
"That is correct."

The captain of the guard took a deep breath. "I'm going to make some changes to my will before we head out."


Five miles away, Marcus Quinn Claudus stirred in his afternoon nap.

Captain Yarvis, Court wizard Anabell and three unimportant guards set out for Marcus's cottage. They arrived to find the magician munching on bread in his flower garden. 

"Greetings Anabell, it's been a long while." He motioned them to join him on the ground. "How are you keeping, up in that stone monstrosity?"

"I'd be doing better if we weren't under attack by necromancers." She answered. "I need to see your books." 

"Ah, that explains why you've come here." Marcus leaned back. "You need a necromancer."

Captain Yarvis gripped his sword, Anabell soothed him. "Don't worry, Marcus is a necromancer in name only. I don't think I've ever even heard of him performing anything."

"Yep, you can relax your guard. I have the books and I know how to use them. That's really about it."

Yarvis relaxed his grip but was no less tense. Wizard Anabell locked eyes with Marcus. "We're in a hurry, so if you would show us to your books I would appreciate it."

"Fine." He got up and led them into his cottage. Once in the doorway he indicated that the three guards remain outside. Captain Yarvis raised an eyebrow, but did not contradict him. "The fewer the safer," Marcus explained. He led them through his sparse cottage, past a gilded chess set (which stood out in contrast) and down a hatch in the corner.

From a lit taper on a table Marcus proceeded to go around the room lighting seven oil lamps hanging from the ceiling. He then put out the taper just as Yarvis hopped off the last rung of the ladder. "What is this cave?" he asked gruffly.

In truth, the captain wasn't far off. The depth of the hollow was seven paces, it's breadth was seven paces, it's height was seven paces. This left it to be quite small, and damp from the dirt and rough bricks. The moment the lamps were lit, the room was filled with smoke in spite of  a hole connecting the nook to the chimney. The only furnishings were a table in the center and a bookshelf, completely full of black bound books, positioned across from the ladder. It was cramped, and dim. None the less, Marcus was none too happy to hear it called a cave.

"I'll have you know there is more power in this 'cave' than in anywhere in your stone house. It is protected by magic more powerful than you have ever encountered." Yarvis rolled his eyes, which Anabell saw.

"Don't scoff. He's telling the truth." A quizzical moment passed. "The books," she said pointing, "they are bound with black magic. Even if I tried I could never open them. It also seems this room follows the rule of seven."

"It does," Marcus interjected. "Seven sconces, seven paces in depth, seven in width, seven in height, seven shelves with seven books, and seven pieces of silver hidden from sight. It elevates the power of all the magic in this room. It also follows the path of three,"

"Ok I'll bite, what is the link of three?" Yarvis asked.

Marcus allowed Anabell to answer. "He means there are three of us in here. Magic is best controlled by three points; since magic swirls around life energy, the three of us make magic easier to control. So what he means is there are three talismans in this room causing the magic from those books to flow throughout the chamber."

Yarvis glared at Marcus "Sounds like a waste of time to me, if he doesn't even do any magic."

"There are other benefits," the wizard interposed. "Now, could we move on to saving thousands of people?"

The captain blanched and the necromancer stepped up to his book set. "What can you tell me about this necromancer's threat?"

"Not much, it's necromancy."

"Well, that narrows it to three categories. . ."

"THREE!" Yarvis exclaimed. "What do you mean?"

"There are three categories of black magic that are death magic. Out of seven categories in black magic and three types of magic, three categories aren't bad!" Marcus snapped. He took a breath, "We'll start with resurrection, that's the most likely." He pulled  one particularly thick black book and placed it on the table. "This one has some of the most powerful spells in necromancy. If we're talking thousands, this is the book to check."

He made to open the front cover. It didn't open, instead the whole book tilted. Then he tried to pry it open. Next he picked it up and began to struggle with the binding. "Open you stubborn text." After a moment, he slammed it on the table. Anabell smirked. Marcus pulled a knife from his belt and began to scrape at the side of the binding trying to get a purchase on the cover. "What do you want from me?" He asked of the non-responsive book. His eyes narrowed. "You vindictive little. . ." He picked up the knife once again and with it sliced the tip of his finger, allowing his blood to drip onto his book.

The blood disappeared into the black leather and the cover soundlessly opened. Anabell loosed a chuckle. "That was a bit excessive."

"The books upset that I can't use it." grumbled the mage. "What do I need to find?"

"It involves a human sacrifice, we think an infant." Anabell said with not a little disgust. "There was also something about the phase of the moon."

"Moon phases, that'll help."

Captain Yarvis grimaced. Marcus noticed. "There is a reason, captain, why black magic is forbidden. Sacrifice is not uncommon, and human sacrifice is not unheard of in spells of great power." He continued to flip pages. "Here's one, a blood curse. Pierces magical protection, multiple targets. . . nope not usable for a kingdom of targets." Yarvis sat down, anticipating a long time to come. "Stand up captain. There is a reason I don't have any chairs in here. If you were to doze off, there's no telling what these books would do to you. Lone books have destroyed better men than any of us. A complete set, could plant a seed of madness with a single moment of weakness." He began rambling, a help for his focus. "The philosophers number, the number of infinite. Seven by seven, magic squared."  He licked his lips. "That's why forty-nine is when a wizard reaches his zenith of power." He paused to take a closer look at one of the spells. He shook his head.

Hours passed. None of the three bothered to track how many. Part way through Marcus put away the book and drew-out another from a different shelf. He struggled slightly less to open it than the first. Thus far, he had not found anything matching Anabell's information.

Several more hours later, Marcus had gone through two more books. Even though he had found a few likely spells, none of them seemed to fit. Anabell was becoming quite irate with him.

"How can you have these books for years and not be able to identify likely candidates? If I were in charge of them, I'd have organized lists of all the spells by now."

"Then you'd be foolish." Marcus calmly said. "Black magic and lists only work against you. I could make a list, but all that would accomplish is cursing myself. That's part of the reason why the black books are protected as such; dark magic taints whatever it can."

"Fine, but how hard could it be to open a book!" She pointed to his bruised and bloodied hands.

Captain Yarvis stirred up with a growl, "This isn't helping!" He took in a long and, if possible, intimidating breath. "Time is of the essence, so how about we focus on the task at hand. Marcus, is there anyway to speed this up?"

"Yes," he replied. "Stop trying to rush me. The more I'm interrupted the longer this is going to take. I can't just suddenly be a great necromancer, no matter how I may wish to."


*Removed for boring predictable content*

After refilling the oil lamps, on the eighth book, Marcus Quinn Claudus found the spell.

"Here it is." He looked up at Anabell. "It's an unnamed spell, but it requires the sacrifice of three infants at the seventh full moon."

"What does it do?" the wizard asked.

"It raises an army of undead."  Captain Yarvis loosed a low growl.

"A righteous army. by killing three infants the necromancers fill the righteous undead with a bloodlust. They could destroy an army under the right circumstances."

"what circumstances?" Yarvis asked.

"Timing, these undead only last a week. Also in order to have an army's worth you'd need to find a graveyard full of righteous deaths." He took a breath. "A crusade graveyard would do it. Isn't there one a few days south?"

"What sort of time does that give us?" Anabell inquired.

"Seventh moon is coming up. The ritual takes three nights to perform and they need at least five powerful necromancers." He muttered "They could start tomorrow night."  He gravely concluded.

"How do we stop it?"

"Kill the necromancers, save the infants don't get killed. The problem is, they don't need to be at the graveyard, just nearby." He yawned. "If it comes down to the last night, you'll be able to trace the dark energy of the ritual about half a day before the ritual is complete."

"and if we can't find them in time, how do we stop them?" Yarvis asked

"Turn them." He glanced at Anabell. "They may be an army, but they are still just basic undead"

"Are you sure?"

A pause, "let me check again." His finger dragged across the page. "Yyeeah, no. They cannot be turned from their purpose. Nor will mortal weapons slay them. They can't regenerate, though." He nodded. "So if the worst should happen cut off their legs and hope they can't crawl here in the week that they live."

"You're sure about the week part, right?" Anabell silently prayed that he was.

"Yes, actually one lunar week. So you'll have about six days to stop them." Then he added, "hopefully you'll reach them before the ritual is finished though. "

"Best be off then." Said Captain Yarvis as he mounted the ladder.

"Indeed." Wizard Anabell followed after.

"I'll send the bill up to the castle, shall I?" Marcus called after them. "I suppose I'll have to." He added after hearing the door shut.

He moved the eight books from the table to their proper places on the seven shelves, carefully shutting them as he did. Approaching the ladder, he whispered "Flickering flame come forth to stop these shadows with a steadfast light."

The flames from the lamps extinguished and the taper on the table lit.


Saturday, April 9, 2016

Prompt #2




dialogue prompt:


"That is a terrible, horrible, incredibly foolish idea." He paused. "Let's do it and see what happens." 

So they did.

*Later* 

"SUCH SHENANIGANS DO NOT BEFIT A DEATH!" Their supervisor closed the door to his office. He then continued at a lower volume. "Twelve died, twelve! What are we, terrorism? NO, we. are. natural, causes. Got that?"

"Sir if I can ex..." Holland began.

"Explain!? Explain what? That you and Jerold got bored and decided to string together your assignments. Even though it is strictly prohibited, that is exactly what you two did." Jerold stared down at his shoes. 

"I can hear it now, 'say isn't this dull let's combine three heart attacks, a stroke, two aneurysms, and a S.A.D.'" He took a deep breath, and then spoke more calmly. "I have to go to a meeting for each of those five unplanned deaths. Suicide is sending over a case worker to help with the paperwork." He sat behind his desk. "As for you two," he sighed, "You're going to the Grim."

Holland and Jerold started.

"The Grim!?!" Holland exclaimed. Jerold whimpered. Their supervisor looked down at the report on his desk. "Yes, Mr. Holland. To the Grim."

"Surely you don't have to do that?" fear dripped from his words like honey. 

"You're right, I don't." Jerold relaxed a bit. "But that is what I've decided to do. One unplanned death is serious, five is practically criminal." Jerold keeled over in a dead faint. The supervisor callously added, "take him with you, you're expected immediately." Holland blanched.