Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Madness? Blindness? Any manner of affliction might have been influencing Ricta’s mind, but Lieze was only interested in one thing: taking every last chance she had to oppose Sokalar’s imminent reign. The former maggot king could have been her key to glory - or the arbiter of her demise. But she could sense neither deception nor unwillingness in Ricta’s tone.

When negotiations with Baccharum finished, the two of them emerged from the cellar as equals, though it wasn’t long before Ricta’s presence attracted the attention of someone who wasn’t quite so ready to just forgive and forget past transgressions.

“You insolent worm!” Not one second was allowed to pass before Drayya tackled Ricta to the ground, drawing her dagger and placing it against his throat, “When I’m through with you, you’ll wish Alistar murdered you that day!”

“Lieze! Get this hysterical woman off me!” The prince pleaded.

“You-” Drayya’s head turned to face Lieze’s like a hawk catching sight of a mouse, “Don’t tell me you’re planning on keeping this despot alive, Lieze!?”

“Only for as long as he makes himself useful.” She replied, “Once we’ve picked all we can from his brain, you can do whatever you like with him. But until then, try to keep any homicidal outbursts to an absolute minimum.”

“Hah…” Drayya sighed, “It’s always something…”

With tremendous reluctance, she removed her grip and stood up, allowing the prince to dust his clothing free of muck. Lieze couldn’t believe the scene unfolding before her eyes - one of the Order’s most powerful necromancers standing side-by-side with a man who by all rights should have been her mortal enemy.

“I recognise you…” Ricta muttered, “You accompanied Lieze when she first responded to my summons at the castle. I suppose it’s only natural that you would be a necromancer.”

“My name is Drayya.” She spat, “But you won’t be calling me that. In fact, if you like your fingers the way they are - which is to say, attached - then you will not be calling me anything. You will not even look in my direction without a good reason.”

“Drayya?” He repeated, “I see… you’re the daughter of that man who attempted to invade the Cities all those years ago. This is quite the fateful meeting of souls, isn’t it?”

He had a point. Lieze - the daughter of Ignas Sokalar, Margoh - the daughter of Bran Drayya, and Ricta - the son of Ricta IV, all stood together in the ruins of that destroyed city. They represented a new but arrogant generation of would-be and should-have-been legends.

“Well… no matter.” Ricta shrugged his shoulders, “I suppose you’ll want to gloat. Tonberg is finally in the Order’s hands after all this time.”

“It’s certainly going to be in someone’s hands.” Lieze replied, “-And I don’t intend to sit back and watch the two largest players contend for glory. Here are the facts - Sokalar and Alistair need to die, and you are going to help us accomplish that goal.”

“Yes.” Ricta nodded, “But-”

“No buts.”

“But-” He said again, holding out a finger, “You will also help me.”

“No.” Lieze shook her head, “I will not.”

“If you intend to enter the castle, then you have no choice.”

“No.” She repeated, “I am not listening to any of this. You will lie, and you will cheat, and you will deceive. You are going to show us the hidden path into the castle. We will enter, and then I will kill you.”

“Do you really think I’m going to show you the way in if you threaten to kill me?” He asked.

“Oh - suddenly my word is worth anything?” Lieze was befuddled, “If you’ve forgotten, we are necromancers. You are going to die no matter what happens. That is why you are not going to be making any sudden movements, because I know you will try to escape as soon as you open this hidden pathway.”

The prince didn’t seem so confident at that moment. Whatever bluff he was planning was simply no longer on the table. He had intended to worm his way into Lieze’s good books before betraying her at the last seconds without considering the possibility that she had no intention of allowing him any freedom whatsoever.

“Nothing has changed. You are foolish even by the standards of a fool, Ricta.” Lieze crossed her arms, “Withhold your secrets, and Drayya will pluck them out of you with knives and pliers. Understand the inevitability of your fate and accept death in its most sacred form. Without torture. Without pain.”

“Goodness… only the daughter of a Lich would be so ruthless in her endeavours.” Ricta rubbed his forehead, “Very well, then. I’ll show you this entrance, if you would be so kind as to ensure that my death is as painless as possible.”

“Drayya.” Lieze nodded towards Ricta, “Turn out his pockets.”

“What?” Ricta pulled his arm away from the girl as she went to restrain him, “What are you-”

“Be silent, worm.” Brandishing her dagger yet again, Drayya placed the blade against Ricta’s spine before delving beneath his cloak to check the man’s trousers, “Let’s see what we have here…”

She pulled out a palmful of imperfect spheres from his pocket. Their surfaces were grainy and black as soot.

“What are those?” Lieze asked.

Ricta seemed bothered by something - not the fact that something of his had been discovered, but more to do with the manner in which he was being restrained. There was something feral in his eyes, as if a deep fear had been dredged up from the depths of his soul.

“Who cares…” His breath became ragged, “They could be rabbit droppings for all I care… now let go of-”

He groaned in pain as Drayya flipped her dagger around and butted the prince on the back of the head for his tasteless joke.

“That’s very funny, Your Highness.” She tossed the tiny spheres around in her hand, “-But these look more to me like Dwarven smoke bombs…”

To demonstrate, she tossed one of the pellets some distance away. As soon as it collided with the ground, a plume of colourless smoke rose in its place, growing to encompass nearly the entire street.

“Quite useful for making a quick escape.” Drayya said, “A shame you couldn’t put them to use.”

“You cur…” Ricta seethed.

“Check his other pocket.” Lieze commanded, “-And take off his shoes while you’re at it.”

“Wait! Wait!” The prince’s voice came out in a terrified howl, “The boy! The one with the red hair!”

He screamed towards Marché, who had been enjoying the spectacle from a safe distance. At the mention of his presence, he straightened his posture out.

“Me?” He asked, “I have to apologise, Your Highness, but I’m not going to help you.”

“No! Listen! Listen to me…” He begged, “Please! If anyone has to search me, then let it be him!”

“Eh?” Drayya recoiled, genuinely offended, “What’s wrong with me doing it?”

“Please… just don’t touch me…” He pleaded, “Fleece me, kill me - do as you will… but don’t grab me with those hands of yours…”

“Ah…” She nodded along to his words, “Don’t like being touched by women, do you? That’s the voice of a man who was broken as a child. Does it fill you with disgust when I restrain you? Do you feel helpless? Like you’re about to burst into tears?”

“Drayya!” Marché yelled, “Let him go.”

“...Hm.” After looking to Lieze for approval, Drayya allowed the prince to fall to the floor, “Is that where you draw the line? Do you think I care whether someone was molested as a child? If we had known this earlier, things may have been a lot easier.”

“You’re just perpetuating his suffering.” Marché shot back, “That’s not the way of a necromancer.”

“Don’t speak of our ‘way’ as if you understand anything, novice.” She crossed her arms, “I’ll do as I please. Now get to searching him for any more tricks.”

Marché frowned, but did as she asked. Ricta had been reduced to less of a person and more of a panicked beast curled up on the ground. His opposite pocket was empty, but when Marché took off both of his shoes and shook them about, three more smoke bombs dropped onto the road - thankfully without exploding.

“Well… unless you want us to check his underwear, I think that’s all the ones we’re going to find.” Marché said, “What a pitiful soul… we really should put him out of his misery.”

“Later. We still have a secret entrance to discover.” Lieze replied, “Keep a close eye on him. We’ll head to this waterway, find the entrance, then kill him. Marché - you’ll be in charge of escorting him, considering the mere touch of a woman is enough to shock him into silence.”

“The life of a noble is not an easy one, Lieze.” Marché said, “However damaging, a man cannot afford to reveal such things about himself. He risks alienation. We are not forgiven for our emotional outbursts as often as women are.”

“Spread your sermons elsewhere. This, too, is a result of life’s suffering.” She replied, “Now get moving. There’s a river passing through the city not far from here. That’s most likely where we’ll find this entrance.”

Once Ricta had been coerced off the ground, Lieze and her cult travelled towards the canal running through the eastern district. Once, it was a source of prosperity that transformed Tonberg from a mere village into a bustling city. With the district destroyed following the siege a month prior, it was simply a reminder of the casualties lost during the conflict.

The water was still and illuminated by moonlight, stretching from one side of the district to the other before snaking out into the countryside. Lieze could see that it wasn’t particularly deep, but it would take the entire night to canvass the canal for any sort of secret door - provided they didn’t have Ricta close at hand.

“Hah…” Resigned to his fate, he seemed keen to experience a quick death, “If we head north from here, we’ll find it. The entrance is on the other side of an underhang, so it can’t be spotted with the naked eye.”

“What is this entrance, exactly?” Lieze asked, “A cave?”

He nodded, “It runs beneath the city. Nothing special, really - apart from the fact that it’s connected to the castle dungeon via a false wall. It’s enchanted with transmutation magic, so even someone who discovers the cave wouldn’t locate the entrance.”

“Wouldn’t an escape route lead outside the city walls, ideally?”

“It’s not an escape route.” He replied, “The graves of former kings are located there.”

“Excellent. We’re in need of corpses.” Lieze smirked.

The cult sidled the canal’s edge, looping around buildings when necessary, until Ricta stopped near an unremarkable spot.

“It’s here.” He said, “Beneath us.”

“Hold on a minute. I’ll have a look.” Drayya volunteered.

She leapt into the water without any hesitation, disappearing beneath the surface only to return a moment later, her locks of black hair flowering out and giving her the appearance of some strange sea-hag.

“It’s here! There’s a hole at the bottom we can pass through!” She reported.

“Could we even get our thralls in there?” Marché wondered, “...Can corpses swim?”

“Let’s find out.” Lieze replied, before leaning over to push a Gravewalker into the canal. As expected, the creature simply sank to the bottom, but it did not die. The lack of a need to breathe was certainly helping it in that regard.

“It will take some time to move them all in, but we can’t afford to leave any behind.” She said, “Alright - all of you! Into the cave!”