Necromancer

“ Respect for the dead? Hahaha! I'll have none of it if that's what it takes to make ends meet! ” One of the few things that the dark elves and the elves share with each other is that they worship their ancestors. They believe that when someone dies, their soul goes back to Nature as an element and returns to life again later. To them, death is just another stage of life, not complete destruction. The dark elves, whose stability as a race relies heavily upon elemental magic, have always had great respect for their departed. Some time ago, the practice of using the spirits of the departed as a source of power became popular among them. The practitioners had found out that spirits made as a much greater source of power than natural elements, so they forcefully kept spirits from returning to Mother Nature and commanded their power. The humans referred to this power as Ghosts; the dark elves called it Necromancy. And the Necromancers were frowned upon among the dark elves because they violated the dignity of the departed. But their secretive yet powerful curses were extremely attractive to those in power and others who wanted to usurp them. People often think that the Necromancers chose the quick and easy way to become powerful. They speak so because they do not know what it really takes to master Necromancy. The Necromancers, having their souls bound to the spirits that they command, suffer from enormous pain every day. One must be extremely determined and have a very good reason to become a Necromancer. Coincidentally, most Necromancers are Thieves, who are known to be obsessed with power. But unlike the Rogues, a different branch of Thieves, the Necromancers hardly get the credit that they deserve, no matter how heroic their acts are. Because of this, the Necromancers loathe the arrogant Rogues. It is an open secret that the Elders are cultivating Necromancers of their own to keep the queen and her followers in check. Also, rumor has it that their leader, Saffron, is also proficient in the power of Necromancy. Usually, the Necromancers use the power of anonymous, insentient spirits to put a curse on their enemies, but sometimes they also invite the spirit of Vallacre, an ancient king of the dark elves, into their body to achieve great physical power. Some of these Necromancers are operating outside their kingdom to carry out missions for the Elders. Oh mighty Vallacre, my king, I call upon you! The ultimate Slaughterer of injustice, who strikes fear into the hearts of all living creatures; it is you who truly liberates the Dark Elves from oppression! Hear this calling from your humble servant! Through this lowly form, unleash your true majesty upon this world! I beseech your wrath upon the arrogant Elves, the deceitful Dwarves and even the shameless Dark Elven apostates who desecrate our name! I implore your relentless acrimony, to rain flames of vengeance to the treacherous Human race, and all its filth and corruption! At last! The army of terror will rise and march forth again, at the summoning of the Great King! All opposing foes shall tremble in the shadow of his might! Prepare yourselves for inescapable despair! Oh Vallacre, Great King of Terror! Hear my summoning! Ascend from the depths of your oblivion! I am but an instrument of your awesome embrace! Arise from your dank, shallow grave, and possess this body again! Cursed be to Amora! Glory is the legacy of the Dark Elves! “ I shall guide you to the world of souls Control the souls of the world with extreme necromancy. ” Those who wish to learn necromancy... I will start this letter by sneering at your ignorance and recklessness. No matter what you have on your shoulders, the choice you’ve made is wrong. It’s like destroying a pillar just to fix the roof. If you have any sanity left, stop this madness. And to those who still greedily seek a way to this.... Congratulations. You will not die in peace. All of you! Do not awaken the soul that surpasses your own capability. Necromancy is a sorcery which materializes the remaining energy in the world. Some foolish people have included the incarnation of evil spirits as Necromancy, but how are you going to control a powerful soul which has a will of its own? Do not break the taboo with your foolishness. If you do not wish to be constrained and suffer until your existence becomes less than that of a speck of dust. If you do not wish to die before you are actually dead, you shall give up your ludicrous greed. If you run into someone lucky, come to me. I would like to see the face of the person who ignores this friendly advice. Well, that’s only if I am still sane by then. - Excerpt from a book left by the first Thanatos, Klorinde She let out a sigh of ecstasy even as the indescribable fear coiled around her entire body. Any normal being would’ve passed out from merely touching the breath of fear. Yet the eyes of her, who grasped her face and could not contain the bliss, Were filled with madness and pleasure instead of fear. It was not merely because she was a necromancer. It was because she was the one closest to ‘Hell of Sleepless Sins’ amongst the necromancers. Even though she was being weighted she had not even an ounce of doubt, let alone fear, And ‘Moros’, the primal fear and the god of the impure ones, became curious of her. How much will this new sacrifice weigh. No matter how much one murdered and sinned, one could not be as heavy as the ‘Primal Fear’ on his scale. They just lend to the impure and be compensated for the weight of the sacrifice on the scale. But the scale that remained immobile since antiquity had begun tilting. The weight of her soul, the fear of her sins were heavy enough to lift him up. On the altar that hardly seemed like a scale sat the woman and stared into nothing with an alluring smile. “Give me, give me the sign…!” As she extended both arms and breathed heavily the black smoke rushed onto her. As if it was alive it coiled around her like a snake, Like it was trying to see something within her… At the sensation the woman smiled, letting out noises of joy and excitement. The black smoke gathered and formed a wedge. As if it was answering her desires it trembled lightly. It was the ‘Acheron’s Key’, granted to only those who could move his scale. The key scattered into smoke again and flowed into the woman. The woman let out heavy breath, unclear whether it was of pain or pleasure, and smiled. That enticing yet bizarre form was another indescribable fear itself.