We had made camp outside of Rosettia, Lorissia and Malcyr had been talking almost none stop since we'd left town. I have to say was feeling a bit jealous, Lorissia and I were just freshly together and though we'd been through a lot in that relative bit of time, but her and Malcyr definately seemed to connect on more levels (since they were both more combat oriented where as I liked to actually read things before being drug away from them by some horrible monster!). Its a bit like seeing the person you have feelings for meet someone else entirely better than yourself (except you know Malcyr was a total jerk and I'm the coolest person who was ever cool).
I was how shall I say tactfully noting my lack of attention when I heard a strange noise. We were in the wilderness and strange noises are prevalent out there, but this was more of a strange kind of whistle. I was about to write it off as a bird I hadn't heard before when I caught site of a tribal shorty sneaking up from a patch of brush, now the whistle made sense, damn tribals with their unspoken dialogue. I got up to signal alarm when an arrow caught me right through the lower abdomen area (they may have been small, their arrows were rather large, and hurt). Lorissia turned to me and saw the arrow, I could see that fire in her eyes again, off game the bow and she had an arrow sighted before I even hit the ground (look I've been shot before, but its never easy, its one reason I like firearms, they don't leave a dirty damn arrow sticking in you). I missed the fight for the most part (yes I know I could make up a grand tale of swords and arrows flying, but honestly I make up... err creatively elaborate enough of this journal I don't have to do it for fights I spent the majority of clutching my stomach in pain). When I came too Malcyr and Lorissia were dragging a shorty over to me, he looked injured but not dead (welcome to the club little fellow).
"He's not talking." Malcyr made it sound like they'd tried for hours, but I hadn't been down that long, patience people, you can't just hit someone and expect them to tell you everything!
"Do you even speak his lanugage Malcyr, Lorissia?" They both looked away sheepishly, that was a no. The little guy was dressed up in war paint, a white chalky substance that looked off compared to his bronze skin (tanned not genetic, spoke to a tribe that spends time outdoors), the choice of white in contrast to the skin color suggested the paint wasn't intented for camoflage. I didn't really speak Shorty (no one really does even the shorties their lanuge is a combination of hand signs, pointing, grunting and a mix match of words from my language) a couple feeble attempts told me it wasn't really worth the effort (well that and the fact I was still stuck with a damn arrow and bleeding).
"Get a rock." I directed it at no one in particular and it took a second for either one to do something, Lorissia fetched one a moment later, it was a large solid one which would do. The arrow wasn't fully through my stomach, but I didn't think it had hit something too important (well aside from that it had me), I cut the end off through some effort (that hurts no matter how tough you are, thankfully it was within my view or I would have had to rely on Malcyr or Lorissias for that. They both looked on at me puzzled as to what I was doing. With the feather bits cut off, I used my sword as a flat surface and primed the rock in front of it.
"When the arrow comes out my back, pull it out please." That was directed at Lorissia, I didn't really want Malcyr removing arrows from me. With a deep breath I slammed my sword and sent the arrow through myself, whatever gods are out there had their names cursed I assure you. I could feel a tugging and Lorissia pulled the arrow out of me, she showed it to me, I have no idea why.
"Ok now this next part you both probably don't want to be here for." Lorissia looked at me puzzled for a moment, but Malcyr caught on and took her by the shoulder and they went to go look over the other dead shorties. Now you may wonder why I took the arrow out, the simple answer being necromancy doesn't remove things that are inside, you have to do that, if I'd healed with the arrow still in my innards I would have a new fashion accessory. Another thing you might wonder is what its like to take a mind that doesn't speak your language. Its odd, memories are mostly sights and sounds, which is fine if you don't understand the language, but there are bits that can only be understood by the culture. Like someone watching a stage play without knowing what a play is would be completely confused by the nature of what they were witnessing. That's what it was like taking the shorties mind (despite being injured by them, I tried to make it as painless as ripping someones soul can be). I saw flashes of his local tribe, who were situated in a valley some distance away, I got to see him raising up as a herder of animals and occaisional hunter, and then a man in white enters (not just skin actual clothing) soon they aren't herding anymore, they are murdering, turning on each other, there aren't as many left as there had been, the man in white had built a sort of town with his shorty army. I saw him instructing them to find us, and kill us, and then I saw the last bits of his life including me taking it.
Malcyr and Lorissia arrived a while later. I still ached from the recovery, but I wasn't wounded any longer and I noticed some of my old scars were gone (some not all, his lifeforce came up a bit... short). I informed them of our friend in white and Malcyr nodded saying thats who we were after. The oddest thing though, I had no memory of him in Valrya's memory. So while Malcyr was suspecting the guy was a necromancer, he wasn't one that I knew of. It was a bit terrifying, and sure enough what we were walking into was a new experience all together. And you get to know all about it!
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