Esme on 30/10/2006 at 15:58

---

Sometimes gods give you gifts, these are not always well received.

People say, "hell is other people" it’s not, the people who say this just got invited to the wrong sort of party where the conversation ran dry once too often. Generally other people are quite nice once you get to know them. People need to be more specific in their generalisations. For example "hell is these two other people" would be quite accurate.

These two other people hated each other with a passion and a vengeance that stirred the gods, well as we are being specific, one god, one god with a perverse and rather robust sense of humour. This particular god thought it would be humorous for these two people who hated each other with such passion to become lovers, but to keep the balance this god made them immortal as well as long as they adhered to the rules, after all even gods must follow some rules. So they were transported to a sacred place and bound to each other for all eternity. They now needed each other just to survive and would have to return and demonstrate their love for each other, physically, in the presence of their god. Who thought the faces and noises they made were thigh slappingly funny. Perverse and robust, just not very sophisticated.

Bound to each other as they were, their hatred needed a new outlet and so they turned towards their erstwhile brethren, mortal man. The frustrations they dare not unleash on each other were loosed on those they came to regard as their playthings. However, vicious and sadistic as they were they were not invulnerable and after one particularly close call with a large mob armed with torches and pitchforks who had taken exception to them slaughtering all the children in the village, they learned a modicum of caution. They realised that as immortals they could play bigger games, games that would not put themselves in harms way, they could play subtler games of politics and religion and magic.

Learning dark arts in distant lands they released plagues and demons on mankind, for sport. Whispering in the ears of kings they would ferment wars lasting generations, counting the victor by the number of dead. They vied to see who could create the bloodiest religions for gods that did not exist and unleashed the vilest of perversions to corrupt those around them. All the time they remained in the background, manipulating from behind the scenes, considering overt action to be crass and beneath them, besides it was more fun this way. Their schemes would take decades, sometimes centuries, but patience is cheap when you live forever. They tested their limits and found none, indulged their passions and always wanted more, they drank their fill of the world but were never sated such was their hunger for mayhem and corruption.

Always the time would come for them to return, to renew, and to realign themselves with the god who had granted this marvellous and terrible boon. So they would set forth, renew their contract and wreak havoc on the world anew. If only they didn’t have to listen to the laughter it would be almost bearable.

The planets were aligning once more and it was time to renew the contract.

It had been a long journey and they were both tired, the wooden seat of the wagon was beginning to become painful despite the cushions. Also with no playful diversions to enjoy they were becoming tired of each other’s company. They were early, but to be late was unthinkable, they reached the hilltop and stared in incomprehension at their objective.

Finally she turned to her companion and said "We must be lost, are you sure this is the place?"

"You’re the one with the map! I’m just steering" came the weary reply.

"Sleeping more like" she tutted "I’m sure it was you snoring".

"For the last time it was the damn horse woman!" came the rejoinder.

"I’m sure we’re lost" she pursed her lips "I did tell you to stop and ask for directions at that inn, but you wouldn’t".

He gritted his teeth and pointed "Look, there are the guide stones and that is where the ley lines cross".

She looked and she had to agree this was indeed the correct location, "...has it really been so long? Things have changed so much!". Not willing to give up on a good argument quite so easily she changed tack "how long remains until the alignment ? I said we should have left earlier"

"We have a year or so before we need to renew the contract, do not worry" he said patiently "you know you always get irritable at renewal time, be calm" and instantly he knew he’d said the wrong thing.

"Irritable!" she fumed "Don’t worry you say!, it will be all right you say! That was a bloody river crossing not a town last time! And no one had built a damn great house on the crossing point either!"

He cradled his head in his hands, it had been a long journey.

Esme on 30/10/2006 at 15:59

---

Benny used to run the bar in the Noose and Gibbet, for his brother William and his wife Emma, as since the election they were busy with mayoral duties, he was well used to keeping publicans hours.

Every day Lise his niece would arrive from the school to wake him, she would help clean the bar for opening and if there was time they would occasionally play hide and seek in the cellars before Lise’s mother picked her up and took her home.

Lise was good at hide and seek, she could hide so Benny couldn’t find her at all and when Benny hid she always went straight to him, even the time he hid in an empty barrel she found him almost instantly. Benny thought she might be cheating and using a spy hole, Lise always said he hid in obvious places and that she could just see where he had hid. She was pretty with shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes and an infectious laugh, Benny reckoned she would break a fair few hearts before she settled down but that wouldn’t be for a while as she was only eleven.

Life was good until the townsfolk started disappearing, first the smith never came home from the forge, then a washerwoman and a vagrant disappeared. People became wary of being out at night and stopped frequenting the bar so much, forcing William to drop Benny’s wages. Benny didn’t mind the money, he lived in the bar, and his meals were free but still he wondered if he should look for another job.

Then the unthinkable happened, Lise went missing.

Benny gave up the job in the bar and enlisted in the night watch so he could help with the search, but no trace was found until two passing magicians offered their services. They cast their runes and consulted their oracles for a full day eventually pointing towards the manor house on the hill overlooking the town. Benny joined the search party determined that in this game of hide and seek he would find his niece.

The guards searched the house, ignoring the protests from the occupants and it was Benny who found Lise. He’d gone into the wine cellar, being an ex barman he knew his way around these places, there he found a locked room with a grill in the door and through the grill he could just make out a small figure in the gloom. Calling for assistance he started to break the door down and just managed to get into the room as his colleagues arrived with torches.

Lise stood there immobile and unresponsive, her dress arms and legs were streaked with dried mud and her skin was grey. Benny embraced the child to find her skin cold and her breath stilled. He released her and fell to his knees sobbing. Lise was undead, never again to laugh, never again to play games of hide and seek, never to grow older, never to break hearts.

When Lise was examined by the mages it was found that not only was she undead, but also her tongue had been removed so she could make no sounds. Further she was apparently impervious to harm and would follow instructions when commanded but otherwise she had no volition of her own. This was a distasteful practice the mages had encountered before, they explained to the increasingly horrified townspeople.

The Mages continued to clarify with some sadness the full atrocity that had occurred, that an undead servant would normally suffer damage in time rendering them useless. So an invulnerability spell would be used to link them to some object and pass any damage incurred onto the object, as long as the object lasted so would the undead servant. The object could be anything depending on the power of the one casting the spell and there would usually be some sort of time limit involved though it was impossible to tell how long without having access to the related object. Though again the greater the power of the one casting the spell, the greater the period before it would fail.

Obedience spells would then force them to obey the will of their master, the mages had managed to circumvent this but were unable to restore the unfortunate child’s free will. The removal of the tongue was to prevent the moaning that was normally associated with these creatures. After all, who would purchase a servant that moans all the time. The child was probably to be sold to one of the more exotic brothels, and the missing townspeople were, most likely, working as slaves or servants in some far off land.

They regretted that they could however do nothing more for the child and suggested that it would be a kindness to return her to her parents.

When Lise was instructed by the mages to identify those responsible for her condition, she pointed out the lord and lady of the manor, their protestations of innocence fell on deaf ears. The trial, such as it was, commanded that they should suffer the same fate as their victims, the mages were asked to deliver them into the hands of the Necromancer in the nearby town and for their services they would be rewarded anything the townspeople could give them.

They asked for the manor and it’s grounds.

Benny drank deeply from the bottle and sat on the bed unwashed and unshaven, if only he’d escorted Lise home instead of sleeping in the bar, if only he’d thought of the manor, if only.

Tears streaked his face as he slowly drank himself insensible. He slept, fitfully at first then relaxing into the deep slumber of the dead drunk.

Opening his eyes he saw the light streaming through the window, he cursed himself for forgetting to close them. He was on duty tonight and needed a good days sleep, he tried to raise himself to close the curtains.

He couldn’t move, his body would not obey, paralysed he watched the pool of light creep closer to the bed.

Redoubling his efforts he tried to roll over, to blink, to call for help but nothing worked he lay limp as a rag doll as the sunlight crept ever closer.

Now he could feel the warmth on his legs but still could not move, as the heat from the sunlight worked its way up his body.

Helpless he lay as the light reached his face and pain exploded down his optic nerves as the searing white fire of the mid day sun poured into his unblinking eyes and burned into his brain.

He writhed, the paralysis that afflicted him gone he clamped his eyes shut against the pain, staggering to the washbasin and threw water on his face, the pain eased slowly and he opened his eyes again and looked into the mirror. Lise stared back at him from the glass.

He woke screaming and bathed in sweat. It was afternoon, he got up and checked himself in the mirror. Taking his razor he found his hands were trembling so he decided not to shave.

He washed and dressed then headed purposefully for the bar downstairs.

Esme on 30/10/2006 at 16:01

---

Turning the body over the assailant pulled back the hood and examined the mans face critically, "not you then" said the smiling man sadly, and seemingly taken by pity placed a gold coin in the would be thief's pocket and dragged him to the shelter of a doorway.

Garrett watched from a rooftop bemused, "Hmm, now there's something you don't see every day", as the smiling man continued to walk, Garrett driven by curiosity more than a desire for gold followed along the rooftops and walls occasionally leaping soundlessly across alleyways in his pursuit.

From his vantage point Garrett realised the man was taking a very strange route, well lit streets would be followed by darkened alleys, occasionally these would turn out to be dead ends and the man would retrace his steps only to repeat this pattern a few streets later. "Doesn’t look like he’s searching for anything" mused Garrett "what’s he up to I wonder?". Meanwhile his prey continued to meander through the town, generally heading northwards as he did.

They entered the old part of town and it became increasingly difficult to traverse the rooftops without blocking sight of the man, fearing he might lose track of his curious prey Garrett dropped soundlessly to street level to continue the hunt.

The watch personnel that were to be found were sheltering in doorways or under arches. All of them were greeted loudly and warmly by the smiling man. All of them were eluded completely and invisibly by Garrett and those that carried purses found themselves poorer when they chanced to examine their contents at the end of their shift.

Finally they arrived at a door and the man entered. Garrett waited and a light illuminated an upstairs window, "there you are" he murmured and grinned, "now let's find out what you're up to" and planted a gas bomb just in front of the door the man had used.

Firing a rope arrow into the gable of a nearby building he swiftly ascended to the rooftops, retrieved the arrow and crossed to the building containing the object of his curiosity. "Who knows" he thought "he might even be rich".

Leaning over the edge of the roof Garrett found an upper window he could force open with his knife. It would make a little more noise than he would like but it couldn't be helped and the strange behaviour of the man made him distrustful of the front door. Jamming a rope arrow into the gutter, Garrett lowered himself and forced the window, swinging in he found himself in a small storage room, he stood in the darkness and listened to the sounds of the house for any tell tale noise of discovery, ready to climb the rope to safety.

A rat scrabbled in the attic but otherwise all was silence, Garrett checked through the contents of the room, nothing of value came to light but it was always worth the effort. He crossed cat like to the door and finding it locked, picked it open. Then cautiously opening the door a crack and peering through he saw, a cup.

He blinked in surprise and slowly raised an eyebrow.

The cup was balanced on another cup followed by saucers then bowls and crockery of increasing size until they met a chair balanced on two legs leaning against the door he’d just opened. Someone wanted a lot of noise to be made by anyone entering this way.

Bracing the door with his foot he carefully he removed an arrow from his quiver and threaded it through the gap in the door so the point and a few inches of the shaft rested against the back of the chair while the flights and a hands span of the shaft was against the wall. Using one hand to press the arrow against the wall he braced the chair as he quickly opened the door and caught the chair before it could move. Then he quickly and quietly unstacked the crockery and removed the chair.

Looking down the hallway he noticed another door to the front of the building had a similar arrangements, apparently designed to make noise should the door be opened from the other side by an unwary intruder, "Hmm, a poor mans burglar alarm ?" he mused, "well it’s more friendly than a bear trap I suppose"

The hallway was otherwise deserted and apart from the booby traps on the doors to the rooms there appeared to be nothing of concern. A light could be seen flickering faintly up the stairwell, Garrett smiled thinly and moved towards the stairs.

Crouching as he descended he could see the man through the balustrade. Sitting on a comfortable chair by the fire, reading. Still smiling at some private joke only he was aware of, his hat and cape were draped on a hat stand opposite him where they steamed gently. A bed had been made under the window, but apart from these items the room was unfurnished. The door was locked with the key still in the lock, the bolts were set and the silver cane was leaning against the door set to fall should the door move.

Garrett paused, this was very strange, the man could obviously afford better than these meagre lodgings. There seemed to be very little of value in the room yet the man was employing simple but highly effective security measures almost as if he was protecting some item of great wealth. Getting through that door silently would be even more of a challenge than the one upstairs. Well it would be one of the things he'd ask when it was safe to do so, once the man was subdued and tied down would probably be a good time.

He readied his blackjack and glided down the stairs, keeping out of the direct line of sight of the reading man, checking the bare floor for tripwires and loose objects he closed on his quarry.

A floorboard moved slightly under his weight, there was a popping noise and gas engulfed him, Garrett tried not to breathe but it was too late, he turned for the stairs but they were leagues distant, as he crumpled he saw the man stand and clap his hands together "It IS you" he exclaimed joyfully as Garrett lost consciousness.

Esme on 30/10/2006 at 16:03

---

Slowly Garrett became aware of his surroundings, the chair was comfortable, the fire warm, the decoration rich and well appointed, the large man with the glass of water was smiling, the paintings looked expensive, the golden candlesticks were probably real, smiling?!, Garrett tried to fling himself from the chair but merely managed to flop into a less comfortable position.

"I am sorry, the gas hasn't quite worn off yet, please drink some water it will help and be assured I mean you no harm, I needed the services of a master thief and it's not as simple a matter as putting an advertisement in the news sheets now is it? Please forgive me Mr Garrett ... er it is Mr Garrett isn't it?'

Garrett drank the water and considered his options, curiosity had got him this far without actually killing him so he might as well see what else was going to happen "Yes that’s me, but it's just Garrett, not Mr, and whom do I have the pleasure of being gassed by"

The man looked hurt and said "I did apologise, and I do need your ah, rather unique services, but I had to be sure I had the right person, hence the ah 'interview', which you passed splendidly I may add"

Well a job didn't sound so bad, though the nature of the 'interview' irked him somewhat.

Garrett looked at the empty glass, the fire and at the rain outside, coming to a decision he said "Get me a drink and tell me more. Oh and don't forget to include who you are and how much I’ll be paid"

Passing a decanter of brandy the man began his story, "I am the Necromancer", Garrett dropped the decanter staring "WHAT".

Retrieving the decanter before too much of the contents spilled the Necromancer said reproachfully "this is two hundred years old you know, please don't waste it", he continued "I said I am the necromancer" and poured the brandy sighing to himself "maybe I should have waited longer for the gas to wear off"

Garrett had visions of a certain tower he had stolen from " erm you mean you want..." Garrett began, trying to remember where various items had been pawned.

"No Mr Garrett, let me tell my story and if you agree to aiding me, I will reward you handsomely on success, for the dead know many secrets men have forgotten. On failure I further promise to use my arts to either bring you back or make sure you are truly gone, if that is your desire. If you do not wish to aid me you may leave ... subject to certain precautions, I have many valuables as you no doubt have noticed and I would like to retain them".

"Sounds reasonable" said Garrett accepting a generous measure of the two hundred year old spirit as the necromancer began his story.

"Some years ago in Forton, a small town a day or so up river from here, there was a spate of abductions and disappearances. The local city watch were flummoxed and the whole town was in uproar, things came to a head when the young daughter of the town mayor, a pretty young thing she was, disappeared as well and external investigators were hired to find the missing and their abductors. What they found horrified the townsfolk, evidence was uncovered that implicated Lord Leyton, one of the local landed gentry, in a scheme to abduct townspeople, turn them into zombies and sell them into slavery in foreign lands. The mayor’s daughter was herself found imprisoned in the cellars of the house already undead. As punishment the townspeople decreed that the Leyton family should suffer the same punishment, they were stripped of their lands and title and given to the tender mercies of the Necromancer"

"I thought you were the Necromancer" interrupted Garrett.

"I am, now ... my predecessor died quite recently" said the Necromancer, "To cut the story short, the Leyton’s became undead and were sold into slavery, the investigating officers were given their lands and title as reward, no further abductions took place, peace reigned once more and the town regained some measure of prosperity."

Garrett said "Interesting story, none of those annoying loose ends, so where do I come in or you for that matter ?"

"Well the Leyton’s were innocent of the crimes for which they were punished for one thing and for another .. they had a son, studying the occult in a far off land, he heard of the wrong done to his family and swore vengeance, he sought revenge on those who caused this abomination to his family" the Necromancer said.

"You still haven't explained your part in this" said Garrett although he was beginning to suspect he knew "you wouldn’t be the Leytons son by any chance?" he hazarded.

"Yes Mr Garrett, you are quite correct, I am the heir to the Leyton estate. I rescued my parents from their enforced servitude. My father had been imprisoned inside a treadmill and then had the wall bricked over, he was walking endlessly in the darkness pumping water so that visitors to the establishment he was sold to could bathe. My mother was also sold to the same establishment". The necromancer scowled in distaste "it was a brothel Mr Garrett, they catered for somewhat exotic tastes, I trust I need not explain further."

Garret took a heavy swallow of the brandy at the images called from his imagination.

His eyes red in the firelight, the necromancer continued "I rescued my parents and burned the foul place to the ground, along with all of it’s occupants. Then I came here and slew the Necromancer believing him responsible for my parents suffering and then took his place. Hoping to find the one who was ultimately responsible I examined his records, it was then I found he was innocent of the crime I ascribed to him." He hung his head "I had killed an innocent man in my quest for revenge"

Garrets face was an unreadable mask throughout the tale.

Walking to a side door he opened it and gestured to the occupants, two people entered, obviously zombies but well cared for and dressed in fine clothes.

"My parents Mr Garrett, the late Lord and Lady Leyton", the zombies bowed, "we beg your help to right a great wrong, to restore the Leyton estate and title to it's rightful heir, and to expose those who committed this crime"

Esme on 30/10/2006 at 16:44

---

it is a bit strained in parts ... where it's not completely broken, I'll work on it ;)

but is the story any good ignoring errors of syntax, spelling and punctuation ?