Hungry Necromancer

Soon after I'm awakened, the crowd of thousands are dispersed with vague orders to keep praying to the prayer. To keep praying to Lotar.

There are several questions from them, yelling, muttering, crying and demanding. A lot of demands to know what's going to change about the food situation and what they can do about it, and questions regarding the sudden deposal of the Benefactor.

Of course, no one gets any answers as the crowd and their pleas are quickly beaten back by Juri and his militia with constant reminders to keep praying.

Whereas Anselm, Alric, Fragas and I shuffle back into the Mansion for a tough discussion.

"What the in Anera's name was that!" Fragas screams, "Prayer? Are you serious?"

Alric continues where he leaves, "And what happened back there with you, you went silent after a while…a long time and just let them keep chanting the prayer like…"

"I was speaking to Lotar."

"The God?" Fragas jumps in again, barely giving me and breathing room, "You've got to be kidding me, right? Gods, Goddesses? They never work, the spiritual forces are only sinister, only the Reais knocks back when we tap."

"You should have a little faith, Fragas," I start, "Aside from the very fact that the beings within the Reais are in one way or another the only proof anyone could possibly need to know that Deities residing in the heavens exist, there's the cult of Phien, the Synagogue and closer to home, there's Anselm."

"Hello." Anselm waves weakly, floating in the corner. "I'm a spirit or ghost rather. I don't have any true powers unless I'm being summoned, my physicality right now is a result of Asher's spell."

Almost in a bored and exhausted manner he explains the mechanics behind his very existence.

"The Cult is nothing but a rumour."

"I had wondered how you achieved flight, I thought it was simply a sophisticated enchantment, I suppose not." Alric hums.

Answering Fragas's naivety is my first choice, "The Cult is as real as you and I, Fragas. Now I can't waste any time on your disbelief and pessimism so I need you to head out to Juri and tell him to prepare the militia for a battle."

"A battle!?" Alric lets out in shock, jumping away from his budding conversation with Anselm, "What do you mean?"

The urgency is clear on every one's face, well, except Anselm.

"Lotar warned me of the Benefactor's retaliation at being cut off, but the damned Wolf threw me out of its realm before I could ask where it was coming from."

Fragas looks like he wants to say something snide and doubtful but a sharp glance his way shuts him up. 

"I have no idea where the attack is coming from but Lotar has reassured me that its presence over the village will stall the worst of what the Benefactor can throw at us, still, that could and likely will be way over the heads of many of the Warriors and even my men, it's best to be prepared."

"Alric, I'll be raising the dead of you've kept preserved for some reason."

It's then I notice it, the horrified look on Alric's face as it begins a terrible realization begins to dawn on him.

"What's wrong?" Fragas demands, noticing the look on his face as well.

"I think I know what's wrong." Anselm starts, floating back towards us, his mace pulled out and frosting.

Fragas and Alric turn to face what comes as do I.

Stepping down the stairs of the Mansion are several dozen, stark naked bodies of thin, withering and certainly dead. Their skin, leathery and blackened to ash. 

Said skin has been pulled back over their skulls, tight and tense, barely any muscle in the way, the result is a display of teeth that have most certainly been tampered with by magic being out in full view.

But apparently, the transformation isn't done just yet, unfortunately for them, Anselm isn't having any of it. As soon as the first bone cracks and a sinister force of magic spews forth, he launches at them, swinging his mace into the first unlucky corpse to catch it.

This spurs us all into action.

Snatching my Dagger out of its sheath, "Vampiric Dagger." I breathe a coat of green mist onto the blade and ready myself for an assault.

Fragas does the same, sliding out two conveniently tucked small knives and preparing to defend himself to the best of his ability with what I'm sure would effectively be twigs in a battle with the minions of a being from the NetherRealm.

And for the first time in ages, I feel the friendly presence of mana that isn't mine surge. Alric.

The tip of his fingers glow and he turns to look at me, urgency clear, "I'm not sure this spell will work, seeing as they're supposed to be dead but…I'll try nonetheless."

I give the man a grateful nod and dash in to fight beside Anselm who's begun to be targeted by the now blubbery, human shaped but not quite right creatures of Reais.

The first of the monstrosities in my sights is a giant beast. "Shaco, go get Panda!" I order as I duck under a massive swing from the black beast.

While I'm not sure what will happen if I send Shaco to go retrieve my fighting undead Werebear rather than go myself, I can only hope it'll turn out positively and Panda follows Shaco.

With a quick, aggressive slash, I tear open a slit in its stomach and back away from yet another swing.

"Blood-" I stop myself short as to my surprise, the wound doesn't bleed, it doesn't heal either and despite the cut being one from my Vampiric Dagger, it doesn't eat at itself either.

My eyes become saucers at the implications. These things don't bleed, that means they're most likely immune to decay and rot, to necrosis. 

True enough, I don't observe any necrosis taking place.

Fuck!