While his initial casting had been a lucky probe for location, Alexander knew that trade stops were full of resources a necromancer could use. With hands pushed low and a smile on his face he sent out the call of [Create Lesser Undead] again and this time he did no restrict the call to an area ten feet from his position. No this time when he called to the dead the entire rest stop practically exploded!
Alexander slowly lifted his hands in a rising gesture, denying the hollow feeling in his gut. He'd over done it again. The spell area, the number of contacts simply tore apart his mana reserves and left him feeling standing naked in a blizzard and yet he could not show weakness. Even as the caravan teams screamed and scrambled for safety Alexander focused his will on the notice that blurred his vision...
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NOTICE
One hundred tier one skeleton warriors and one hundred tier two zombie warriors have been created outside your dungeon! Please be advised mana at critical levels. Consume undead or imbibe restorative before continuing!
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Alexander grimaced inwardly. Two hundred undead in a single cast? Damn just how much if a dead zone was this stop?! Gkancing around the entire rest area was in chaos as the skeletons and zombies were clawing their way out of practically every inch of available space around the caravan. Hells one of the near by rises erupted exposing the hill as a disturbing mass grave that spilled forth around fifty skeletons all in tattered dark armor. Breathing slowly he watched as the undead ignored the caravan and instead focused on Watson and Melissa, the throng of dead beings consisting of men, women, children, monsters and beasts.
Looking at Melissa he chuckled weakly, "Have enough divinity stored to save both of you?"
The caravan folk had retreated to the wagons, the guards stood ready to defend but they were out numbered greatly, no one wanted to be the idiot to anger the grisly mob. Laytalya watched from their wagon with a hand covering her mouth, this was the power Alexander had normally?! Sure he was a dungeon lord but as a fledgling necromancer he should only be able to call a couple of undead... yet some how some ten score undead heard his call and rushed to his banner. Her eyes swept over the throng of dead and bit her lip. Could this even be called a challenge now? This was a whole sale slaughter if Alexander willed it!
Watson pivoted slowly, standing over his brother, blade and dagger stood ready to fight but he hoped by whatever listened Melissa would not be stubborn. Hundreds of undead encircled both of them, before she could turn or banish even a tenth of the number the rest would feast on their eyeballs. He'd fight if she demanded, for his oath and to keep the dead from feeding on his brothers body but he prayed sincerely that his old friend had not lost all sense of reason at this point!
Melissa indeed had not lost all sense of reason, had she, she'd have long since lost all control of her bladder. Just what the hell was this?! Wasn't that pervert boy just some green horn rookie necromancer? He was her ticket to an endless source of merits in the church! Sure she needed to push him into a challenge but she didn't want his life, well, not in the normal sense. She wanted him to be an undead factory for her to farm merit within the order, each cleansing she did in the wake of his foul magic would see her position grow... and when she was as high as she could grow she'd succeed in catching and purging him earning a promotion for her duty... but what the fuck was this!!!!
Hundreds of undead crawled out of the ground and were surrounding her some ten deep around. Turn them? She might get the first few rows but by that time the rest would rip her spleen out through her nostrils! Sure she was orange rank but you needed at minimum platinum to single handedly purge undead armies! Just where the hell had that little shit been hiding this army??? As she turned she chewed her lower lip and silently cursed the brothers and her own greed. She'd gotten a bargain on her two old friends as protectors but she had to try and be sly on the side didn't she? Fuck me that's alot of undead! Yet what could she do? To surrender meant to be humiliated and killed as well... still death by public stoning at least left a whole corpse, being eaten alive was certainly nowhere near her best way to end her life!
As the pair stewed in their situation Alexander was watching both. Truth be told, he wanted to lay on Laytalya snuggle her chest and forget this whole day ever happened yet here they were. Undead versus church with a dead tired dungeon lord playing monkey in the middle. Sighing he was about to offer up a compromise when Melissa threw down her rod and shouted, "I concede!"
Alexander blinked then cleared his throat, damn now he had to act the part didn't he? Gods damn it. "I will accept your surrender. My legion, stand down!" With a snap of his fingers the throng of undead shuffled away from the living, the skeletons and zombies each lining up behind him in their own blocks awaiting his order. Those of the caravan breathed a sigh of relief as a human to air missile launched itself from a wagon, arms snagging around Alexander's throat and nearly garroting him off his feet as Laytalya pounced him.
As the pair were celebrating Melissa moved hurriedly to Watson side dropping beside Winston to offer more prayers. She might be doomed but before that kid recalled her life was in his hands she had to get back her oldest friend. Yet with every holy spell she pounded into his body his heart refused to beat, his lungs accepted no air. His body laid limp almost a chiseled statue. Tears rimmed her eyes as she looking to Watson and shook her head, "There's nothing I can do. His death is beyond me..."
"Of course it is. He isn't dead."
The snarky voice of Alexander drifted over making Watson and Melissa turn with a snarl. Not dead? You didn't get much more dead than lacking a heart beat or breathing. Not dead your pompous ass! Melissa gasped softly as tears trailed down her dusky cheeks, "You won fine. But Winston is not part of the deal, he is not to be risen alright?"
Alexander looked from the sorrowful Melissa to the angry Watson and pushed between them, as both reached out to stop him the young necromancer seemed to grab an illusionary shroud covering the fallen warrior and ripped it away. With a groan and a cough Winston sat upright clutching at his chest. Melissa and his younger brother gasped in shock, the former glancing to Alexander, "What did you do?"
Alexander sagged against Laytalya. "Its one of my spells, think of it as a slumber enchantment that masks all vital functions. The target still breaths and has a heart beat but nobody can detect it. To the naked eye, he's dead. To me... he's a big sleeping baby. Now if you're quite finished looking down on me I need to sleep for a week. Fuck I summoned too many undead."
While the pair reunited with an obviously confused Winston Laytalya guided Alexander to the wagon, crawling inside he gave a few orders to the undead who promptly set about restoring the rest area, filling in the over turned graves and restoring the place into a habitable location. The merchants breathed alot easier when the host then began shambling back to the north. They were told that as the group moved away from Alexander the magic animating them would cease to work, thus these unknown bodies would once again be lost to the wilds. Truth was they were marching for his dungeon.
Undead were a great boon! They didn't need to eat or sleep, they required no pay just space. While his graveyard would be bursting at the seams most of the undead could be buried and serve as secret troops or reservists for the patrollers. Alexander had dozed off even as the wagon tumbled along, summoning two hundred undead and practically sucked the life out of him. Before he had drifted off Alexander rolled back his glove and sleeve noting his skeletal fore arm now had rolled back to occupy his elbow as well. It was easy to see the more he relied on his vitality to cast the more his body would become skeletal.
While his slumber was undisturbed others were not so relaxed. Ahead in one of the lavish carriages the trio were huddled in close discussion. Winston was cradling a canteen in his lap, it was practically empty already. That faux death Alexander had imposed on him had left him with a maddening case of cotton mouth, no amount of water seemed to be able to get rid of it either seeing as this was the third one he'd drained in an hour.
Watson was watching him with worry, while he was glad his big brother was alive the fact the older siblings was consuming more water than a camel was disturbing. When Alexander awoke he meant to have words with the foreigner, something was obviously screwed up with his brother and was likely the fault of that strange spell. He wanted to go fetch the fellow right now but both Winston and Melissa had ordered him to stay, antagonizing the necromancer with Melissa's life still in question would not be good!
The one in question was trying to cure Winston while also apologizing for her lapse in judgement. Truth told her rise in the order had indeed gone straight to her head, with acolytes and trainees having to bow and scrape to her whim and finding a similar reaction amongst the common folk her belief of self importance had inflated over and over even overlooking her old ties with the brothers. As her most recent spell sputtered and Winston reached for a fourth canteen she shook her head, "I'll go ask the sin... er Alexander. Maybe he can tell me how to cure this affliction, none of my cure spells or healing spells seem to effect your thirst. They're doing *something* but not what they should."
Winston and Watson shared a glance, this was perhaps the first time that Melissa had admitted she was not capable of something since her early acloytehood, in fact even then she had been a perfectionist that denied help with anything. It was that pride in completing her training perfectly that had lead her to her recent complex. Still Winston shook his head, "He admitted it himself, he's tapped himself out. Even if you ask chances are he's unconscious. Impressive as the feat was mages are mages. Over draw on magic and you burn life. He needs rest. If I switch to try drinking out of a pig trough THEN we disturb him."
The others nodded but still looked worried, Melissa had pulled out a hymn book (A/N: Think a mages grimoire but for divine spell casters) and was skimming through it looking for other prayers to try. The less they had to rely on that weirdo necromancer the better in her mind. She just could not figure out where it had all gone wrong, the guild never mistook a members power and he and his little trollop were clearly naught but green rank, by all accounts between Winston and herself at Orange and Watson at Brown, overwhelming the pair would take little effort. Could a couple of days seen such a drastic jump in ability? No, nothing mundane could explain it and now it was too late, whatever the cause she had lost and was likely to meet the Saint firsthand come the morrow...