Tag Archives: necromancers

Jamee The Unwitting Necromancer

The dirt was liquid under her feet, each step was a battle. The mud fumed out a pungent fog of tree sap and the decomposition of flesh. She had a long strip of fabric wrapped around her head, keeping her mud-caked hair and the disgusting smell out of her mouth or nose. The fabric was well made, a silk and cotton blend dyed purple, the same as her dress.


Another step forward revealed the torn section of her gown, it now only came up to her knees. The remaining pieces of her outfit were soaked in blood. She reached out and grabbed a low hanging branch of the nearest swamp tree. Pulling with all her might she managed to free herself from the ground and swing her legs up as well.


She lay there on the branch for a while, regaining her strength. She tried to figure out where she was, there weren’t many swamps she could remember. The smell pretty much gave it away however. This was the Grutal Marsh. About twenty years ago this was a battleground, there’s only a thin layer of mud between her and hundreds of dead men, women, horses.


“How did I get here?” She asked herself in a whisper, her voice raspy. She coughed, winced in pain and rubbed at her throat. There was a scab there, from the back of her chin to her collar bone. The crusty piece of skin had already started to come away from her neck.


There was a sunken area of skin where the scab had been, where it had struggled to grow over the area. ‘How did I survive a cut like this?’ She thought, being sure not to speak. ‘Did I survive?’


She knew the stories about the Marsh, about the battle that was fought here. A fight against the dead. Not that she really believed it. Necromancy was such an abhorrent magic, there was no-one who could really consider using it. This couldn’t be the case anyway, the battle was won, the dark magic’s vanquished.


But maybe, the magic lingered. It has a habit of doing that, the unexpected.


Using what strength she had regained she reached out her arm and focused her energy. The dirt on her arms shook right off as her skin started to glow purple. Her hidden runic tattoos revealed by their use. A pale lilac mist formed around her. There were no other magics at work here.


She didn’t notice that the mist she formed floated down to the ground. It swirled around underneath her, overcoming the swamp’s natural fog.


The mud began to move.


Now with enough physical strength she decided to move, jumping down. The mud didn’t squelch, ‘looks like I got out of the flooded area’ she decided.


Up ahead she could see a clearing. Maybe things were looking up for her after all.


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Didn’t finish a chapter in time #4

Hello hello, its that time again and I completely forgot about Leesandra this week. Instead I have been doing a lot of touch ups for Whiskey and Maeve. By the way, I wasn’t actually aware that Maeve was a real name. For those that don’t know already, Maeve as a name has a meaning too, ‘She who intoxicates’. I had honestly not known this when I thought up Whiskey as a character or gave her a name… so a bit of a happy accident there.

Gary thought himself a simple man, he didn’t want much, a cold beer at the end of a hard working day. To be sure in the safety of all he cared about, to one day find out what happened to Reuben. He used to be a zealot, he was a sworn weapon of Michael, smiting demons and leaving only light in his wake.

He looked down, there was at least four levels between him and the ground now. The climb had been pretty easy up until now, plenty of hand holds and deep slots that his feet could sit in. The design of this building made it seem like the architect gave up at this point and they hired someone else.

There was a fire escape nearby but the handholds didn’t reach it.

He thought about jumping over to it, it was close enough that he could make it and the metal was sturdy enough to take his weight. Doing so played out in his mind, it would make a lot of noise and he would probably be covered in demons before he could say ‘Fire department?’

Resigning that idea he slowly moved down until he found a line of hand holds that would get him close to the fire escape. They would mean he crossed a window but hopefully the curtains were closed.

This wasn’t his first encounter with Mammon’s demons. Around the time when Mammon first took control of this crime family there was a series of baby thefts in the area. The FBI was already investigating Manny but they never would have put two and two together.

Maeve and Gary did though, Maeve was also relatively new but she had studied everything she could get her hands on at the Refuge. They both figured that Mammon was in town and had a penchant for eating infants, most don’t make that association as it seems more like something the Arch-Demon of Gluttony would do rather than Greed.

Gary quickly popped his head down to see in the window, the curtains weren’t closed. There was no-one inside, a vacant hotel room. He moved across so that he was in front of it and tried to lift it open. It didn’t budge. Carefully he slid a small knife out from a sheath tied around his torso. He pushed it under the window and dragged it across. Giving the window another try, it opened with the familiar sound of wood against wood.

The room wasn’t much but probably came with all of Manny’s offered benefits. He may only want to get your soul into the Circle of Greed but he sure has a way of exercising all possible sins. Gary slid the window closed but didn’t lock it just in case.

Once again he donned his glasses and looked around, there was red everywhere. ‘How could I possibly find her?’ Just as he thought that he caught something in the corner of his eye. A demon that looked like it was in distress, its red visage vibrating wildly. ‘Recently possessed is a good chance’.

He pulled his gun off his belt and moved towards the door. There were no demons in the hallway but definitely some on this level. He slowly opened the door to see if there were any unpossessed, there was no-one. Making sure not to slap his feet he hurried down the hall.

Stopping at the stair well he looked around again, no demons on the move or out of place, only the newest addition whipping from side to side.

Gary’s heart stopped. He had finally remembered to look down and could only see red. ‘Mammon must have been out and just come back.’ Thinking quickly he ran up the stairs, if any other demon had caught him he would have been fine to just exorcise it, Mammon was far too powerful for him to do anything about.

He ran down the hall to the room with the volatile demon, not caring about being stealthy any longer. Flicking his head around to see if he was in any immediate danger. Several demons were on the move now, but none were close.

Gary slammed his hand repetitively on the door. Until the door opened.
“What!” The girl, Cameron, who opened it definitely had the face he was looking for, but the voice was that of something fresh from hell.
“Get back in there.” Gary put his gun against her head.
“You think something like that would hurt me human?”
“You bet your ass it will.” He kicked the door open enough to clamber inside.

“I am a shade of Mammon, how could you dare?” Gary smashed her in the head with the butt of his gun. She keeled over in pain. “Argh.”
He pushed the door shut with his foot and continued to point the gun at her. “Where did you come by such a weapon mortal?”
“Michael himself. And his name you shall leave this plain.”
“Ha, ha, ha. I am not under the beck and call of some pathetic frilly angel.”

Gary reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a silver flask. He opened it and poured the contents over the girl. It seemed to be just water but it still made her scream in pain.

“In the name of Michael the sword of God himself you will leave this body. Or I will burn you inside of it.”
“Just you try!”
“They always push me.” He muttered as he reached down with his free hand and grabbed Cameron’s arm. Closing his eyes and facing towards the sky. “Michael, Gabriel and Uriel.  I am but a humble servant I call you now acting in your will…”

“Provide me with strength, provide me with your blessing and grant me the power to vanquish thyne enemies!”
“You cannot possibly have their ears!”
“Michael, Gabriel and Uriel hear my prayers. Allow me to be the sword with which you shall shatter the night!”

Cameron’s body started to writhe unable to get free from Gary’s grasp. “Michael! Gabriel! And Ur…” The girl started to scream, a scream so shrill it surely would have awoken the dead. Her face lit up with a holy white light. Gary continued to look away, to be sure not to accidentally glean the form of whoever was coming to his aid.

The girl went limp in his hand. Gary looked back at her making sure the demon was gone. There was no red showing through the glasses.
“Thank you.” He called out still unsure who had helped.

“No, thank you.” Gary recognized that voice.

Manny was now standing in the door way.

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Didn’t finish a chapter in time #3

Well hello there boys and girls. It is 7 o’clock New Zealand Standard Time and I have not written a single word this week. Basically it’s all because my job has put me through a nice little training course that lasted the whole week and I have been finishing around this time everyday.

Of course this has also left me extremely exhausted mentally so I don’t really have the power to write a significant blog post. So I will leave you with a small excerpt from another story that i put on the back burner a long time ago. I hope you enjoy.


She walked through the Gruetal Marsh, the final resting place of the soldiers who died in the Necromatic Silencing. Her aura filled the air, darkening it, filling it with a dark pastel-blue fog. Moving slowly, her bare feet squelched in the mud, her dress, once a stunning purple ball dress with all the trimmings. Now a muddy wreck, it used to have one sleeve on the left side, the right arm and shoulder exposed, currently it had no sleeves, both arms exposed to the cold swamp air. The silk and cotton fabric used to flow all the way down to her ankles, almost sweeping the floor as she danced in the ballroom. She ripped off the bottom up to the knees as she started to enter the mud and water. That piece of fabric now flying on the wind soaked in her own neck blood. She made very cautious steps over the logs and large furry corpses. As she moved into a small clearing she remembered flashes of the previous night.

The yellow light shimmering on the the silk gowns, girls twirling to the music. Rare wines and cheeses floating along on the suspended serving dishes. Men in fine military uniform dancing alongside the girls. She caught a man staring at her from across the room. His face handsome and smooth yet rugged from the years of service. His long dark hair, swept to the side like the rest of the gentlemen there, had some grey gently pushed through. He clearly had many years on her but at the time she did not mind. Now when she imagines his face she is instantly repulsed and her hands shake with terror. “What’s that all about?” her voice was muffled and weak from the dehydration and healing neck wound. She thought her guesses were pretty close based on her current predicament. Her next step was heavier than it was supposed to be making her foot sink into the ground, the mud cuddled her entire shin. She attempted to pull it out but the mud had already tightened around her ankle. Looking down at it with disdain her first thought was to cut it off, she decided against it when she realized that dealing with the wound appropriately would leave her naked. She spotted  a log within reach and went to grab it.

Ever since she could remember she had wanted to go to a fine ball. Being Sir Eldersteern’s ward had prepared her to be a fine lady, pampered by maids everyday. Kept away from kids her own age, kept away from almost everyone in fact had conditioned her to be very strong by herself and easily impressed by the feats of others. Although she remembered a day when she had finally met some new people. The maidservant supposed to be watching her had fallen asleep so without supervision she sneaked out the front gates of the mansion. Her small boots crunching along the stone path. Soon she came across some other children around her age, they seemed to like playing with her at first, running around chasing each other. Until a boy, bigger and more confident than the rest seeming to be the leader, asked her where she lived and who her parents were. After she told them their once cheerful faces became solemn and cold their cheers turned to shouts and their playful chasing turned to stone throwing. “Necrophile! You won’t take our bodies!”

She sat on the log. ‘why did i just remember that?’ she wriggled her foot from side to side attempting to loosen the mud around it. She knew it might take a while, but she didn’t exactly have anywhere to be.


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