Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Lieze didn’t have a mind to time it, but as far as she was concerned, Alberich had been fighting for hours. Long after the battle was well and truly over - long after the enchantments on his weapon had faded, the fire burning in the Dwarven king’s chest never seemed to fade, or at the very least came to an indefinite smoulder.

His final stand lasted for so long that Roland excused himself from the magma chamber with a detachment of Gravewalkers to begin the long and tedious process of resurrecting the war’s casualties. Indeed, to every observer of Alberich’s struggle, the battle ended long ago. Was it madness, then, that spurred him on in his fury? Just as Helmach was the product of an addled mind, had Lieze managed to shatter the spirit of yet another Scion?

No, she thought. Whereas Helmach was cursed by a malady that made him seem tragic at the best of times, Alberich’s flame endured for a different reason. He fought for the simple joy of fighting and killed for the simple joy of killing. Mime’s final words had imprinted upon him a zeal for conflict unaffected by the loss of his people and nation, encouraged by nothing more than an urge to satiate his bloodstained desires until nothing remained of his soul but pure white ash.

“The thrill of bloodletting never ceases to excite me!” His yellowed grin radiated childlike glee, “To dance with steel in hand, and to feel the weight of my hammer against the skulls of my enemies - I’d almost forgotten what it felt like to place my life on the line!”

The thralls continued to flood in: Horrors, Flesh Elementals, and Briarknights stepped forward to test their mettle against Alberich’s hammer, only to find his overbearing aggression splitting their skulls and carving their bodies into ribbons. The deep stench of thickened blood mixed with sulphurous smoke in the air to create a stench that embodied decay.

Only Lieze was left watching by the end of it. The others departed to carry out their duties within the mountains, either too filled with pity or embarrassment to witness Alberich’s prolonged execution for a second longer. In some strange way, she felt as if it was her duty to see his performance through to the very end.

Corpses littered the battlefield. The foetid stink of rot was thick like fog in the air. Alberich’s blows had taken a turn for the glacial, heaved with insurmountable resistance but just as deadly when they came to rest upon the mindless features of Lieze’s thralls. His invulnerability had taken on the form of a curse, protecting him from harm but exposing his body to the pitiful drain of exhaustion.

He may very well have killed 1,000 thralls by the end of it all. Lieze had never been taking count, and nor was she particularly offended by the loss of so many obedient servants. Rather, she was compelled to experience a miniscule amount of respect for the man who refused to be broken by her rabid dismantling of his country.

With barely the strength to keep one arm aloft, Alberich held his palm up to the incoming maw of a Gravewalker. Lieze took the gesture to mean that there was no need to waste her manpower any further, and so commanded the thrall to remain still.

“...Enough.” Alberich’s voice was devoid of his usual gusto, “I’ve had my fill of blood. It was a splendid final battle, but I won’t be capable of giving myself an honourable end if I fight for a second longer.”

The warhammer slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground. With both hands, he lifted his weighty helmet, revealing a face that might have aged 20 years over a matter of hours. Alberich’s wrinkled cheeks glistened with sweat, highlighting the extent of his exhaustion. He threw his helmet aside and stumbled towards his brother, whose corpse lingered at the edge of the platform.

“Mime… was that enough?” He wondered aloud, “I’m sure you would say that it was, even if we failed to protect our homeland. I fought as you claimed a Dwarf should - struggling for no other reason than to preserve the beauty of this world. That’s why, even if it wasn’t enough, won’t you forgive me for being a foolish brother?”

With the last of his strength, Alberich knelt down and lifted Mime - armour and all - into his arms. With great care, he removed the corpse’s left gauntlet, revealing an aquamarine gemstone half-embedded into its palm. It dislodged with more ease than Alberich would have thought, and between his fingers seemed like such a mundane and worthless thing. But he understood its true worth in a manner most men could never comprehend. Sighing, he did the same for himself, pinching the violet stone tucked away in his palm and wincing as a trail of blood developed from the resulting welt.

“Divine providence… perhaps it ended up doing more harm than good in the end?” He lifted the gemstone into the air, watching the smoke and light flit across its perfectly smooth surface, “Mime… not even a gift from the Gods themselves could honour your prowess. You fought on your own merits, relying on nothing but steel and grit to see your will realised. I wish I could have been half as true to myself, rather than allowing the temptation of a ‘Scion’ to cloud my judgement…”

Below, the roiling sea of magma bubbled with anticipation. Corpses with shreds of clothing aflame seeped below the surface, the pallid flesh of their expressions melting to reveal the cancerous skulls beneath. A pebble dislodged from the bridge as the steel tips of Alberich’s greaves poked over the edge.

He allowed the twin gemstones to roll out of his hand. They sparkled like distant, colourful stars on the ground. The sheen upon his armour, once impervious to any blow, faded as the enchantment waned. When Alberich turned to face Lieze for the final time, she could have sworn that she was looking at a completely different man.

“There is no shame in loss.” He mused, “-But there is certainly shame in not admitting one’s loss. Though my spirit demands that I oppose you with every fibre of my being, I know better than to reach for hatred in the sacred moment before death. However wicked or evil, I cannot afford any less respect for the one who has accomplished the impossible feat of conquering these mountains.”

“I’m not interested in your respect.” Lieze replied, “Every conquest of mine is a means to an end. I don’t seek glory or wealth, but the realisation of a long-corrupted dream. To accomplish that goal, I must be willing to accomplish any task, no matter how impossible it may be.”

“So you say. So you say…” Alberich nodded, “And yet, I’m certain that if you wanted to end this quickly, you would have done so already. Instead, you chose to provide me with an opportunity to discover a peace within myself, however useless it may have turned out to be. It is a fine thing to respect one’s allies, but unheard of to allow an enemy the same privilege. And yet, despite the Order’s ruthlessness, you chose to await my requiem.”

Lieze shook her head, “You’re mad. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“If that’s what you believe, then I won’t press any further.” He smiled, “This is my loss, Lieze Sokalar. My long dream is finally coming to an end. I imagined my death would arrive in a moment too sudden to regret, but this surprising moment of tenderness isn’t quite as unwelcome as I imagined it would be.”

“You won’t destroy the gems?” Lieze asked, “You won’t cast them into the fire and destroy my ambition in one fell swoop?”

“These stones are the only prize you were ever interested in from the beginning.” He replied, “If even half of your supposed ‘truth’ has any merit, then I will be damning more than just the Order by destroying them. I lived my life uninterested in anything more complicated than mindless bloodshed. If I destroyed your only chance at facing down the Gods themselves, I would only be defeating myself.”

“Hmph.” She paused, “You’re a strange fellow, Alberich.”

“Pray that your dreams are unmarred by deception, Lieze Sokalar.” He returned his gaze to the magma, “-For if your ‘ideal’ turns out to be nothing more than just that - a dream - then no punishment will avail you of your sins.”

Alberich closed his eyes and released a final breath.

“Let this fire relieve us of our duties…” He muttered, “Mime… you were watching, weren’t you? I burned until I could burn no longer. My only regret is that I did not listen to you sooner. Please, forgive your foolish brother one final time…”

Without a sound, he vanished - corpse in tow - over the edge. Lieze didn’t hear so much as a scream in passing, as if the Dwarven King had been an illusion all along. The only evidence that he and his brother had ever existed were the pair of gemstones lingering on the ground, their lustre never fading despite the absence of their masters.

Quest ‘The Enchanter’ Completed!

Reward - 14,000xp

Battle Report:

Dwarves (multiple) (x2,131)

Alberich

Mime

Total XP Earned - 26,864

Level Up!

You are now level [55]

HP + 5 MP + 50

MIND + 1

Specialisation Available!

Level Up!

You are now level [56]

HP + 0 MP + 55

MIND + 1

Level Up!

You are now level [57]

HP + 5 MP + 50

MIND + 1

The fruits of Lieze’s labour scrolled past her vision. She climbed down from the Manticore and retrieved the two gemstones, dropping them into her Bag of Holding to save for later. The sweat running down her forehead didn’t cease even in the absence of any enemies. A quiet moment was all she needed to comprehend just how intolerable the heat was in that boiling chamber.

There was no catharsis to relieve her of the day’s events. No swelling pride in her chest to spur her towards the Order’s next conquest. Alberich’s final words echoed in her skull, halfway between a warning and a hope that she wouldn’t end up with her expectations of the Light-In-Chains betrayed.

Did she truly understand the goals of the Sages? Was it possible for them to align so perfectly with her own? Or was she being strung along to serve the will of yet greater machinations? The more it mulled in Lieze’s mind, the less certain she became of the future. There was only one thing she could say for sure: a single Scion was all that stood between her and the awaited conclusion of the Order’s journey.

She peered over to the platform’s edge, half-expecting to see Alberich rearing his ugly head once more. She toyed with the idea of watching his bones turn to ashes in the embrace of his own lava chamber, but a middling remnant of respect for the man forbade her from soiling his final moment.

Seeking resolution - and forgiveness - in death. Lieze had observed less dedicated acolytes among her own ranks. It wasn’t mindful of her own beliefs to demonise the tiny king’s love for bloodshed. Life and death in equal measure, each enjoyed for their presence and embraced without a second thought - his personal philosophy wouldn’t have looked out of place within the Deathguards.

“Alberich…” She sighed, “You were a worthy opponent.”