Gerald awoke to find a much cleaner Lydia leaning over him and rubbing his shoulders to wake him up. "I'm up..." He groaned, rubbing his eyes and sitting upright on the bed after stretching.
"About time." She muttered. The window was open again, letting in the shade of the evening. "If you want anything for dinner, you better get to the main hall quickly or I'm not paying." Lydia then turned and walked towards the door.
"You changed clothes." Gerald remarked groggily, rolling his feet off of the bed.
It was true. Gone were the hues of tan and red and now she was dressed in a ashy grey dress that covered her well enough but didn't seem to fit quite right. "I'm borrowing it from one of the girls while my clothes are being washed." She replied. "I'm still mad at you. Now come to dinner or people will begin to talk." With that she was gone and out the door.
"That's... better than I thought she'd be." He muttered, standing and giving another stretch. He then had a rush of understanding and said aloud, "Sword!" A little magic conjured up his old blade from it's magical space in the coat pocket. The sword was a short sword made of blue steel that seemed to shine when Wizards were close. (It was a reason why the ancient Necromancers and the Wizards loved them. The Necromancers because it told them when their ancient enemies were close, and the Wizards... Gerald firmly believed they just like something that responded only to them. 'Prideful losers.')
The blade also came with a sheath that was black as the dark between the stars. The hilt was plain and unadorned save a large blue Sapphire on base and a small inscription at the top of the hilt that simply read, "You deserved this." The meaning was twofold. First, it was a mother's final gift to her son before going to war and he deserved the extra work and expense of a sword. Second, the person/thing on the other end would deserve whatever came to them.
The sword and sheath hooked onto the man's trousers with a quick magical spell and he quickly walked into the hall.
"Good evening." He said to Lydia as he sat in the main hall with her.
"We need to talk later." Lydia said, with an air of coldness.
"And I will love to. But it will need to be tomorrow." He quickly called a serving girl over. "What is ready to eat and won't take long to get to us?"
"Um... Just some stew." The girl replied, looking at him oddly.
"Brilliant. Can I have four bowls brought out as fast as you can? I have to get going soon." The girl shot him a look but quickly hurried away to take the order.
"The stew has meat in it." Lydia remarked, looking disgusted at him.
"So I assumed." Gerald replied. "Have the Druids gone back to trying an all plant diet again? I had my suspicions back at Lime's..."
"We have always only eaten plants." She responded, her eyes flashing at the man. "Always have and always will."
He looked in her eyes. "It's not traditional by any stretch of the imagination. This goes on about every three hundred years or so. Give it another 50 years, when some of the nutritional problems take their toll and you'll be back to eating meat like the rest of us. Or at the very least," He paused to thank the serving girl who had brought two of his bowls of stew and was leaving to get to others, "you'll be back to eating eggs and milk." He then grabbed the spoon and immediately almost drank the stew with how quickly he was eating it.
"I know I never will." Lydia said. "And we've been only eating plants for thousands of years-"
"You ever meet an elder by the name of Berry?" He interrupted, before slurping the last of the juice from the bottom of the first bowl and setting it down with a contented sigh. "Delicious." Lydia nodded her assent to the question and Gerald continued. "Great man, and a great chef. That man could cook a turkey faster than even a Gin, and we even had the competition to prove it. His were always the most delicious as well. The moistness and flavors he managed to put into that bird..." He paused to almost drool at the memory and then tore into the next bowl. "This will pass, and you will be eating at the very least what animals make, soon enough." He smiled at her, his full cheeks making his face almost comical.
Lydia was not at all happy with the conversation, but she just rolled her eyes and ate what appeared to be a plate of berries and fruits. "I do need to talk to you though." She said again, after she had finished eating some grapes. Gerald, for his part, was already most of the way through his fourth bowl of stew (which was drawing some attention from the other servers and another patron who's mouth was open in shock).
He swallowed and replied. "I would like nothing more than to talk to you, especially about our contract, what in the hells I am, where we're heading, and more, but not tonight."
"And where are you going?" She asked as he slurped the last of his stew.
"Hunting." He replied with a smile. "We're going to need some coins for the journey so I took some odd jobs." He smiled and stood. "Thanks for the food. I promise that I'll pay you back." He then turned to the bar. "And thank you, Patrick for the meal." He said, referencing the balding man who was manning the bar. He then grabbed his coat and was heading out the door.
"When you coming back?" Lydia demanded, standing before he left.
"I'll be back closer to dawn I expect." Gerald responded and exited the inn. He walked immediately towards the gates, where some men were beginning to close them. "Hold up!" He called. "Hunter coming through!" He slipped through the open gates and ignored the warnings of the gate keepers, and he continued on the road and into the sinking sun. "I'll be back in the morning!" He called back with a smile and a wave, while the people who lived in the town looked after him like they were already counting him among the dead.
The darkness of night enveloped him after about an hour, and with it the moaning began of the Zombies around him. Unlike the previous night, on this occasion, he summoned them to him. The first Zombie that he encountered emitted a low howl at his command, and the effect was immediate. Had anyone else been watching, they would have seen a horde running towards the man. A veritable death sentence had he been anyone else. The ash settled around them as they slowed as they grew close.
He kept the horde at bay except for one woman, who looked less decomposed than the others. Finally, several thousand had gathered and started the incantation. It wasn't a long one, but it loosened the brain and tongue of the Zombie so that it could speak. (Something useful for the horde during times of battle)
"My lord." The woman said with a low bow. "It is an honor to have one of the chosen with us."
"You flatter me." He said. "Please do not bow. My time is short and I only have the night with all of you."
"Of course Master." She said, her face peeling back to a smile that exposed her rotten teeth and gums.
"Master... Master... Master..." Muttered the Zombie horde. I should note that the voices of the undead were horrible. Like they had not drunk anything for days but were trying to sing.
"I am looking for a ring and I will need six tongues from the horde today."
"The tongues are easy my Master." The woman said, and tongues were immediately held out by a majority of the horde in the front row so he could cut them. He did so without any hesitation. "There are many rings among the horde however. The sparkles remind us of life."
"I didn't know that." The Necromancer admitted. He described the ring from the job listing and after about an hour, in which the Zombies with rings on their hands had come forward, he found it. "If you please." He asked the Zombie, and the Zombie woman handed it over. "If it pleases the horde, know that the living still miss many of you." He held up the ring. "This is the proof."
"We care not." The spokeswoman said, curtsying low. "Though we hope that you have brought us to feast tonight."
"I had not intended for that." The Necromancer admitted. "But I sense that the winds of change are blowing."
"We have felt that since before your coming."
"Come." He said. "Perhaps I can find something to entertain you." Gerald then began to walk, and the horde walked with him. They wandered for hours, heading south and away from the town. "I sense the living."
Sure enough, on the horizon, as they topped another rise in the hills of ash, lay another town. It's borders surrounded by a palisade wall, like the other. "Would the horde like fresh meat?"
"We would." The spokeswoman said, her eyes fixed on the lights of the watchfires in the distance.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
"Your command." She replied. "We may not have the knowledge of what we were or of how we were, but we are hungry."
"You are commanded." He said.
"Will you be our commander?"
"No." He said. "I hereby promote you." The powers of a Necromancer rose around him and circled around her. "I raise you again, Skeleton Commander."
The ash rose and fell, peeling away her flesh and leaving behind only the bones. The horde rumbled with excitement such as hadn't been felt in that corner of the world at night in over a thousand years. The woman who had been there only moments ago was now replaced. Her bones now stood strong in the cold of the night. It took a couple of minutes, but the bones were clean of any of the flesh that had laid claim to it just minutes before
The new skeleton got on one knee. "My Lord has flattered me." Came the woman's voice, though the bones didn't move, nor the skull open. "What does my Lord command?"
"Remind the peoples of this land why they fear the night." He responded. "Do not attack to the north of the lands you found me however."
"Very good." It bowed its head lower. "And when the Ashen lands await your rule?"
"Hide." He responded. "Gather the masses and wait in the catacombs of the ancient lords of my people."
"Our people." The skeleton commander whispered. "These would be both of our peoples, my master. Please do not discount us just because of our fate in the war."
"As you wish." Gerald said with a smile. "Now go. Do as your master commands. Please remember that your master, if he is to reclaim these lands, is to need living servants as well, and these survivors fought with us in the ancient days."
"They will be given a warning for their women and children." Her voice said. "The attacks begin tomorrow night. My master, I will need a weapon however, if others of our kind are to know of my rank."
"You are correct." Gerald smiled at the skeleton, and immediately pulled on his magic. A long sword was pulled from the ash on his right and flew till it found the Necromancer's hand. "You may have this, with my compliments."
The Skeleton Commander took it, its unchanging face showing no emotion for bones cannot move to show them. "I will take this and slay those who have forgotten us in your name." She said, before standing. "RISE!" She called, and immediately there came a loud shriek from the Zombies that even Gerald had never heard. The dead were coming to the call of their commander and they would not be impeded.
"I must go back to the living." The Necromancer said.
"May the gods grant you favor my Lord." She said, bowing to him. "But my Lord, there are humans on the way back. Would you like us to see to their destruction?"
"No. I will greet them and take them with me. Send Zombies to make chase, but not catch us. If they breach those orders, I will kill them."
"As you wish. Do not fear for their safety my lord. The lands will provide all the soldiers that we can need."
The Necromancer then walked away, the Zombies making way for the man, and he was impressed with the numbers of Zombies. 'It's a true horde.' He thought, proudly. 'I didn't think I'd be that powerful tonight. Especially on a new moon.' The darkened sky showed little but he sensed his way using the magic towards the direction he wished to go. He reached the edge of the horde, motioned for a few to follow. They did so, and he explained as best as he could to the braindead servants what the plan would be.
After another hour, he came to the caravan of people on his own, keeping the Zombies at bay. "Get out of here!" He called, running towards the camp. "Get out of here!" It was a small group of traders and he quickly told them that he was being chased. "The Zombies are right behind me!" He said, breathing hard and taking a breath. "We've got to get to the town, as soon as possible."
"We actually haven't met any Zombies on the road." The chief trader said, his eyes wide. "We've been nervous by the silence tonight."
"There's a horde. Huge one at that." Gerald remarked. The loud moan of one of the Zombies outside the Caravan rang out and broke the silence. "By Tressed, they're here."
The master of the caravan quickly gathered his warriors and while the rest of the camp packed up the wagons, they stood guard and killed the few Zombies who had followed Gerald.
"We move quickly." The caravan leader said, breathing hard as the final Zombie lay prone and headless on the ground. "We should be at the next town before another two hours has passed. It was foolish to wait here for the morning."
"I just came from there." Gerald remarked. "They may remember me." And that's how Gerald came back to town in the early morning, before the sun had even considered rising. True he had to strip for the healer again, but he had been successful and the coins he would be getting in the morning, would be more than worth it.