Broken Ankle Blues

There are certain things you grow used to as a necromancer. Leering looks from people who suspect you of doing awful things, an unhealthy facination with death, and not having to suffer through maladies like broken bones. Unfortunately when you killed the only creature you could feasibly steal the life from (and honestly I didn't even know if a giant would work the same way, I mean life force is life force, but what if I took on gigantic proportions? I don't have enough cloth for that) you're left with whatever injuries you had going in.  Which meant a broken ankle and what felt like cracked ribs.

I could tell things had only gotten worse when none of the shorties had shown up to greet me.  It wasn't a huge surprise, but all the same it was an idicator (I mean I did kill their monster of legend? Where the hell was my heroes welcome?) I didn't know how much time had passed from when I went to sleep to when I woke up.  I did know that the stench of a rotting giant is a nasty wake up call, and that no matter how you attempt to get up, a broken ankle and cracked ribs hurt like no tommorrow. I hobbled my to the edge of the forest and leaned against a tree. I was in a bad way, far away from any assisted travel (my horse was at the shorties village), and unable to really walk for long distances without being in abject pain.  On top of all that, while I was half standing at the tree I heard fighting in the distance (even back then before the widespread use of artillery and black powder weaponry you could tell the sounds of a conflict).

It took me the majority of the day to just cover a small bit of ground, by the time I made it back to the village it had been wiped out.  No sign of Morley or anyone, no bodies or anything.  Whatever had hit that village had hit it hard. There were still cooking fires burning with over cooked breakfast burned on them. My horse was of course missing (naturally when lifes crapping on you it keeps crapping), and along with it my supplies and coin. I was able to make a crutch for myself, and later in the night after finding some liquid courage I made a splint for the bad ankle (hey I have actual healing abilities unrelated to necromancy, I just don't really use them ever). My ribs were pretty screwed as is (as you'll probably know rib injuries outside of magic healing a rib injury is just waiting and rest, something I didn't really have time for in either case).

So my time as champion of this village of shorties was really not for the best. It's the last time I ever really was declared a champion of somewhere (a shame really I'm a great champion not that as I have said anyone would ever find that out). I spent the rest of the night in a drunken stupor after I splinted my ankle, when I woke up I had a splitting headache, a full day of travel on a bad ankle, and a war against the undead to fight.  You know a normal day for me.