Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Drayya breathed a sigh of relief as she walked into the light.

“I have to say, Lieze…” She began, “Graeme did have that coming to him, but even I know where to draw the line. Humiliating a senior member of the Order like that is quite the confident declaration of independence.”

“A dog is always capable of mauling its owner to death, but a well-trained mutt will never consider the possibility.” Lieze said, “It was not so much a ‘declaration’ as an example of my power. If Graeme doesn’t take this lesson to heart, then I’ll be sure to put him out of his misery the next time he acts up.”

“You certainly won’t hear me complaining about that.” Drayya paused, “And, uh…”

“What is it?”

“No - it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

“I think what she’s trying to do is express some gratitude for the rescue, Lieze.” Marché smirked, “Of course, this is Drayya we’re talking about, so even a single word of thanks would be too much for her.”

“That’s very funny.” Drayya’s face flattened out, “If you hadn't wound Graeme up so much, he might not have bothered. I gave you explicit instructions on how to act around your seniors, and yet you spoke to him as if you were old friends.”

“Be quiet. Both of you.” Lieze interrupted, “We’ve wasted precious time with this diversion. My father is no doubt sculpting some meticulous plan to dismantle Tonberg without losing a single thrall. Or, to put it simply, he’s dragging his heels on the matter. It’s time to take some initiative and continue with our original plan to assault the western district.”

“Wouldn’t it be wiser to wait?” Marché asked, “Alistair’s fall is only a matter of time now, so what’s the point in rushing?”

“If someone hadn’t ever-so-gracefully relinquished Furainé of sight and sound, we might have extracted some information about the Scions from her.” Lieze said, “Now Alistair is my only lead. I need to reach him before my father does, and that means staying one step ahead of him.”

“One step ahead of Sokalar… is that possible?” Drayya asked, “And, I’ll have you know that Furainé had absolutely no intentions of divulging any information. Believe me when I tell you that my questioning never ceased, but she was about as tight-lipped as you would expect a dog of the Church to be.”

“It doesn’t matter now.” Lieze raised her arm into the air, “I’ve inherited her power. But I still need to conduct more research into the capabilities of the Scions, and I believe that Alistair will provide me with the results I seek.”

She had but one lead - the so-called ‘Light in Chains’. Furainé would have never uttered the name if it didn’t denote something that could potentially destroy Lieze. Her worries had multiplied over the course of a single, one-sided conversation.

She learned of the Order’s movements from Marché as the trio returned to the cemetery. A few necromancers had been sent to the northern district to fortify their existing territory, though most of Sokalar’s forces remained in the east to prevent any details of the Order’s return finding their way to Alistair.

“Speaking of the good king…” He recalled, “Sokalar and his followers have only today learned that Ricta was dethroned. I imagine most of their strategies revolved around Ricta’s many failings as a leader - strategies which will no longer be effective with a more experienced ruler on the throne.”

“Experienced or not, Alistair is outnumbered.” Lieze replied, “-But that doesn’t mean we should underestimate him. The castle is a powerful position to hold. We could be looking at a 2-to-1 casualty rate during a siege, or perhaps even worse depending on our approach.”

“What do you propose we do, then?” Drayya asked.

“Let’s not overcomplicate matters. The western district is still our goal.” She said, “Furainé is indisposed, and Alistair can’t afford to spread his soldiers thin. I imagine most of the city’s survivors are being kept there. It would be an excellent way of reinforcing our army.”

“Our army? Or the Order’s army?” Drayya wondered, “We still need to take a stance on this, if you’ve forgotten. I dislike grey areas - especially when it comes to allegiances.”

“Do you want to rebel against my father?”

“Hah! You really said it!” She grinned, “Rebelling against Sokalar… we already have our hands full, and you want to throw us into the fire without a single thought dedicated to our survival? Are you aware that your father is a Lich, Lieze? Immortal?”

“Is that a no?” Lieze asked.

“It’s not not a no… and it’s also not not a yes.” Drayya couldn’t give a straight answer. She had to overcomplicate things, as always, “Would I like to stand at the top of the world? Would I like to see my enemies buried and my allies lining up to kiss my heels? Certainly. But would I be willing to earn such a future - that is the question, isn’t it?”

“Make up your mind, then. I’m not going to wait for your approval.” Lieze stated her ideals plainly.

“In other words, you’ve already decided…” Drayya sighed, “Unbelievable.”

“In due time.” She replied, “All in due time.”

Lieze’s talent for manipulation was about to be tested. She had overcome single-minded adventurers and would-be heroes, but the Order’s necromancers had developed a resistance to plotting. She would need to maintain a network of secrets with all the care of a spider spinning its web.

“Gather up the cultists and every thrall we have.” Lieze ordered, “Speed is key. The western district simply isn’t defensible, so it’s vital that we take it as quickly as possible.”

“We’re attacking it now?” Marché’s eyes widened, “Is that wise?”

“If either of you asks ‘is that wise?’ one more time, I think I’m going to scream.” She said.

“Frankly, I’m starting to get used to all these spontaneous plans of yours.” Drayya replied, “-And you do have a point. There’s no contesting our domination of the district unless the entire army arrives to stop us.”

“Strife and conflict… I knew what I was signing up for when I first developed an interest in necromancy, but it would be nice to have at least one day of rest every now and again…” Marché lamented.

Over the next half-hour, Lieze felt a tinge of pride flowering in her chest as Marché’s cultists turned up with the fruits of their efforts in tow. Witnessing an army of undead and willing subordinates awaiting her orders spoke of just how far she’d come since her first day in Tonberg.

But her ambitions remained unsatisfied. Sokalar would do everything in his power to remind Lieze of her place in the Order. There was, after all, a difference between respecting the strength of another and acknowledging when they have become a threat to your sovereignty.

“We will be using the same strategy as when we attacked the northern district - only more cohesive this time.” Once her army was assembled, Lieze addressed her subordinates from atop a grassy crest in the cemetery, “Eliminating the guards in the district is a secondary objective. Your true goal is to kill and raise as many civilians as possible. Consider escape routes when planning attacks in order to maximise the number of victims before they can escape from your grasp.”

Tonberg was no longer the jewel of security it was a week ago. The despotic reign of the Church invited as a consequence of Ricta’s abdication was a small price to pay for safety, but now even that illusion had faded, and all that remained of the city’s dwellers was the fear lingering at the back of their minds.

“You all have your orders.” Lieze concluded, “Move out!”

It wasn’t possible for Lieze to approach the district with any kind of discreteness - not with the sheer number of thralls under her command. The most she could do to contain a reaction from the townsfolk was to shepherd her thralls through alleyways and side roads, but even that was only so effective.

From a requisitioned parish near the district’s border, the toll of a bell acted as a call to arms for its defenders, and the signal to evacuate for its defenceless civilians. The sounds of doors slamming against walls and windows shattering caught the district in a storm of ear-ringing panic.

“Consider this the beginning of an important trial.” Lieze gazed upon the bell swinging back and forth, “Force is the defining trait of necromancy. Without thralls, we are nothing, and so prioritising the reinforcement of our army is the path to victory.”

“Of course, my lady…” One of her cultists answered, “But… surely there are some civilians who wouldn’t serve us well as undead. Are we to allow their evacuation?”

“What a roundabout way of attempting to spare yourself from perceived atrocities.” Lieze said, “Who will not ‘serve us well’, as you say?”

“Well… that’s…”

“Women, you mean? Children? The elderly?” She tilted her head, “Say it out loud. I despise those who refrain from speaking their minds - even if they are doing so out of turn.”

“Surely… there is a line to be drawn, my lady?” He asked, eyes full of pleading.

“The only ‘line’ worth drawing is the one which separates life from death. Suffering from salvation.” She replied, “We exist to usher these life-cursed fools from one to the other, and we do not discriminate when it comes to that sacred undertaking. The old - they are slow, and therefore simple to catch. The young - they are innocent, and they do not fear death until it is far too late. But as Gravewalkers, age no longer factors into ability. In death, we are all equal.”

The cultists stared at her with widened eyes. He was a novice - perhaps some kind of anarchist hoping to strike back at the architects of his woes. But under that veneer of fury was a goodness that threatened to jeopardise Lieze’s plans. A goodness she needed to seal away for the good of everyone involved.

“If I see you sparing a single civilian, your days as a necromancer will be over.” She warned, “You should be grateful for that. If your leader threatens with death, it should be taken as a mercy, for we are all absolved of suffering in the end.”

“I… I don’t…” The cultist stammered, then lowered his head, “...I understand.”

“Good.” She said, “Now - Drayya and Marché will already be tearing their way through the district. We should get on with our own assault.”

As always, a single Briarknight spearheaded Lieze’s group. She had prioritised faster thralls in order to maximise the amount of civilian casualties, whereas Drayya and Marché had reinforced their groups with Rot Behemoths in order to blockade the main streets.

New Quest Received!

‘End of Days’ - Kill at least 1,000 unarmed combatants within Tonberg’s western district

(Currently: 0 / 1,000)

Reward - 3,600xp

Civilians would be escaping in a southerly direction, towards the only other district under Alistair’s control. Lieze and her cultists broke into a sprint to cut off as much of the district as possible, shedding thralls from the main group as they ran to linger in populated areas and catch any stragglers.

“We can’t do much about those who are already close to the southern district.” Lieze said, “However, if we penetrate the enemy’s sphere of influence and create blockades along the main roads, any civilians behind us will be trapped. At that point, we only need to worry about the lingering soldiers.”

As the group swept through the city, Lieze occasionally glanced towards the counter at the edge of her vision, pleased to see that it was slowly increasing.

‘End of Days’ Quest Status

Combatants killed: 22 / 1,000