RinoZ
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BoD B2C24 - Ghosted
🕑 Added 2022-10-27 07:41:40 +0000 UTC“Blood and bones, that’s cold!” Tyron exclaimed as a shiver ran through his arm.
He snatched the limb back from the edge of the cart and rubbed it vigorously, encouraging the blood flow as he glared at the nothing on his right. Except it wasn’t nothing, as well he knew.
“They got you again?” Dove chuckled. “Man, these guys really know how to hold a grudge.”
“I’m not even certain they’re doing it on purpose,” Tyron muttered. “They kind of drift in place when they aren’t actively moving somewhere.”
“They coincidentally happen to drift into you multiple times?” Dove was sceptical.
“They shouldn't be able to act against me in any way. Part of the Raise Dead ritual builds in controls so that they can’t refuse orders and can’t harm me.”
“Perhaps it doesn’t count as harm if all they do is make you cold and piss you off. I’m not surprised they’d want to rebel given the circumstances. Imagine working for an honest living your entire life and then getting enslaved by some fluffy-chinned punk after he murdered you. That’s rough.”
The Skull made a clucking sound as he mulled over the monstrous actions Tyron had committed. For his part, the Necromancer stared hard at his friend, not rising to the bait. Describing the men as having worked ‘an honest living their entire lives’ was too much, even for the former Summoner. These guys had been thieves, killers and rapists.
No matter the reason, Dove continuously poked and prodded Tyron about his new minions, wheedling away, despite having convinced him to do it in the first place!
Simply one of the ways the skull continued to be both a welcome companion and a total pain in the backside at the same time. Tyron ignored him for a moment and directed his thoughts toward the connection he shared with his undead. The seven bandits he’d killed had been processed and would reach saturation in a few hours, after which he planned to raise them as skeletons. His loyal bone-centric minions were not what he had his mind on for the moment though, he was more interested in the other six.
As he engaged the mental connection they shared, he shuddered again at the strange, alien touch of those undead minds. The skeletons barely had a thought in their heads at all, so they didn’t give this kind of feedback. A skeleton was almost like a magickal construct, in a sense, one made using human remains. The ‘mind’ was entirely artificial and they were as pliable as wooden dolls, with no resistance or desires of their own.
The ghosts were different. Bound by magick and chained by ritual, a crude facsimile of a human mind was contained within each. They didn’t think clear thoughts; for reasons Tyron didn’t quite understand, they lacked even the limited capacity to communicate they’d had in life.
His current working theory was that the vessel, or container, that he had created was too crude an implement for their spirit to inhabit fully. This would mean they were incapable of employing the full range of their thoughts and emotions, leaving the ghost as a relatively simple creature.
It was also possible that dying and leaving the body tainted had changed the spirit in some way. Even in conversation when he employed the Speak with Dead ritual, the ghosts had been… different from their human selves. Cruder. Vengeful. Being bound in their new form hadn’t seemed to perk them up any. If anything, it made them worse.
As he touched minds with his new minions, cold, numb fury was all he could sense from them. Currently, four of them were spread around the cart in a rough square, with skeletons a further hundred metres in. The other two were beside him on either side of the vehicle, with one getting a little too close every time they stopped.
He quickly enacted the spell that allowed him to ‘see’ through the eyes of a minion. The ghosts possessed even poorer vision than the skeletons, but made excellent scouts. Near invisible, they hovered above the ground like a freezing wind. If someone were to get too close, they would more than likely notice the unnatural cold before they managed to see the faint, purple outline of the spirit.
Seen through the eyes of the ghosts, the world was a twisted nightmare landscape covered in strange purple winds. It was unnerving to look at, but far better than being blind, something that proved especially important as he checked the third ghost.
“Damn,” he said. “Looks like a patrol.”
“Bound to happen eventually. Good thing we don’t look suspicious.”
Tyron stared at him.
“What? Sure, I’m a talking skull, and the cart is filled with bags of meticulously sorted bones, and we’re surrounded by the walking dead, but other than that, we’re good.”
“You’re not funny.”
“Oh, you hurt my feelings. Except I don’t have any, I’m a spectre clinging to the mortal plane by unnatural means.”
“Shut up, Dove.”
Tyron tuned out the skull and focused through the eyes of his servant once more. It was hard to tell, but he felt there might be three or four of them. Slayers, merchants or marshalls, it was impossible to tell. He could move the skeleton nearby closer, or go himself for a better look, but he felt it was best not to take chances. The group wasn’t travelling directly for them, but would pass them some distance to the north.
“Hup.”
He jumped down from the cart so the skeletons could move it more easily and instructed them to drag it from the path. The frequent mounds and hills of the foothills were well behind them now, but that didn’t mean there weren’t places to hide. Vegetation became more common on the plains, the landscape dotted with copses of trees between developed farmland.
“More and more people coming through the plains,” Dove remarked from his position atop a corner post of the cart. “Not really the best time to be planning mass murder, now is it?”
“Not like I have a choice,” Tyron said. “They aren’t far away now. We could probably reach them tonight if we don’t run into more travellers.”
He reached out again and shifted the position of his scouts, making sure he maintained a perimeter. It was inefficient to keep the undead so far from him, but he could spare it. His capacity continued to grow as he progressed, to the point he could easily maintain his current minions, even if the ghosts took far more than a skeleton did.
Much of that could be put down to his sloppy work creating the vessels for them. For a first attempt, it wasn’t terrible, but much like his early bone-stitching, there were many errors. He wasn’t confident enough in the technique yet to try and improve his existing spectres, but with more practice, he would be able to fix them, somewhat.
“That means Yor will catch up to us before we reach them. You think she’ll want to help out?”
“Yor?” Tyron pondered. “I don’t think so. She hasn’t been too keen to help me thus far. Not overtly, anyway.”
“I got the impression she really didn’t like this particular bunch. She wasn’t her usual self around the women at that farm.”
“Are you suggesting…?”
“I’m saying it's natural for her to have sympathy. She may be an inhuman, blood sucking monstrosity now, but once upon a time, she was a human woman. If she wants to rip the lungs out of one of those bastards and then wring them out like a wet cloth into her open mouth, I wouldn’t be shocked.”
“That sounds… disturbingly specific.”
“You telling me you haven’t fantasised about that?”
“That’s what I’m saying, Dove, yes.”
“Weak.”
Tyron shook his head, but kept his eyes on the travellers through his ghost. He didn’t neglect to check via his other scouts also, making sure he kept tabs on all directions.
“Alright, we can keep moving,” he said. Instructing the skeletons to return the cart to the trail, he leapt up into the back again. “Another few hours and we’ll make camp. Do a bit of scouting.”
“Any ideas on how you’re going to approach Monty and his merry band? You don’t have the benefit of being on the defensive this time, it’s going to be tricky.”
Tyron thought for a moment.
“We’ll need to see where they holed up to get a better idea,” he said, “and I’ve got a few things to go over with you regarding the spells I have. I think we can work out a couple of things that might help. There’s another seven skeletons to add to the crew as well.”
“Hopefully it’s enough.”
“There’s not much I can do if it isn’t.”
“Well, there’s always Yor.”
“Dove….”
“I’m telling you man, the lung has a surprisingly spongy texture. She could get a lot of juice out of there. Running over her arms and face… fucking sexy stuff.”
“You’re a twisted, depraved man Dove. Death doesn’t seem to have helped that any.”
“I think it just removed the few inhibitions I had left.”
“Who’s idea was it to bring you back to life? I must have been drunk.”
“Hate to break it you kid, but with constitution that high, you may never get drunk again. There’s special brews made for tough slayers, but it's expensive as heck.”
“Great.”
The two continued to bicker as they rode the cart forward into the fading light.
Elsewhere on the plains.
Laurel slid her fingers along the string of her bow, marvelling once more at the fidelity she felt against her skin. As she grew in strength and her skills improved, it was as if the bow had become a part of her body, an extension of her hand in every sense of the word. She’d heard that from several trainers and students who worked exclusively with one weapon, that the more you levelled your Class, the more dependent on the weapon you became.
When she caressed the string, she would swear it caressed her back.
And she was yet to ascend. Just what would her bow become when she was level sixty? Or eighty? She shivered. Just imagining it sent a thrill rushing through her. Wary of distracting herself, she bit her cheek, letting the shock of the pain sharpen her mind.
It was cold on the plains, a chill wind blew her cloak against her body as a light drizzle fell from overhead. Dreadful weather for an archer, yet still they were sent out to scout ahead, as always. Lucky her abilities could mitigate the effects of damp on the string, or else she’d be totally useless.
At least her eyes were alight in the darkness, seeing clearly were others could not. She stepped across the terrain like a ghost, leaving almost no footprint as she went, all senses open wide.
The cluster of buildings loomed in the distance, a faint outline against the grey sky. Perhaps a viable camping location? Some proper shelter from the weather would be welcome for the Slayers, despite their high levels of endurance.
Too soft, was her opinion. I spend longer out hunting the woods without a single level to my name.
But what was this? Light? Flickering through a window, a fire then? Fire meant people. Possibly bad people.
Her finger danced down the string once more before she reached behind to pull an arrow from her quiver. She slotted it against the string in one smooth, silent motion as her eyes widened and her nose flared. She would need to get closer, there was nothing to see from here.
A defensible set of farm houses. Rather impressive for a group of families living this far out. Laurel circled around the perimeter and saw that only half the buildings were occupied, the other two were dark and cold. She crept closer.
She could smell food cooking, and there was laughter, from children?
She relaxed her grip on the string with some disappointment as she approached to peer through a window. She glimpsed a gathering of women and youngfolk, gathered around the hearth before she tucked her head away. She sighed.
As Slayers, they hadn’t just been tasked with destroying any rift-kin they came across. They were also expected to check in on communities they found and ensure they were safe. Which meant she had to go and talk to these people.
She sighed again and slid the arrow back in her quiver. Might as well get this over with. She stepped back from the window, not wanting to spook anyone and called out to them.
“Ho the fire! Slayer patrol!”
She could hear the startled exclamations from inside and soon a face appeared, along with a simple bow pointing out into the dark. It was almost cute.
“Who’s there?” a woman demanded. “Speak your name.”
“I’m Laurel Macraith,” she called back, “a scout from a Slayer hunting party. We’ve been asked to check every settlement we find.”
There was a long moment of silence before further words were spoken.
“Are you alone?”
“I am.”
“Then come in out of the rain.”
When she stepped inside she was surprised to see how fearful these women were, throwing glances at her knives and arrows as they clutched their children to them.
She shook out her dark cloak and nodded to them, taking a moment to scan the room. Only a moment later did she realise what was wrong. This wasn’t enough people to have worked such a large property. More to the point.
Where are the men?
Could all of them have died defending their families from the kin? Possible, but unlikely. Something far darker had taken place here.
Laurel looked from face to face until she found someone prepared to meet her eyes.
“Can you tell me what happened here?” she said.
The middle aged woman stared back through hooded eyes.
“Not much to tell,” she said, “bandits killed the menfolk and took over. We were rescued a while back and have been staying here since, trying to make some order of the place.”
The archer nodded gravely.
“I’m sorry we took so long to get here,” she said quietly.
And she was.
“Were you rescued by another Slayer group?” she asked.
The mood shifted in the room, like a wind curling around a guttering candle, the warmth was sucked away. She waited, but it seemed noone wanted to give an answer. There was something suspicious here.
It was for the marshalls to deal with, not her. From the sounds of things, they’d have their hands full with this place. Someone else's problem.
“It was the Necromancer boy,” someone said.
Laurel’s eyes widened as she turned to this new voice as the others hissed and growled at the woman.
“What? He said to tell them. That’s what he told us to do!”
“You’ve no shame, Bessun,” another woman spat.
“I’m only doin’ what he said to do,” Bessun said defensively, a child curled on her lap looking frightened. “This the only way we don’t get more trouble. We don’t deserve any more trouble.”
A hush came over the room at those words, but Laurel didn’t care. She stepped forward, her eyes alight, a smile on her face like a cat with one paw planted firmly on a birds wing.
“Why don’t you tell me a little more about that?”
Comments
Cursemaster
20 ish?
chris
ya, i didnt fully realize that about her, she might actually tell only rufus and sneak off. or she might actually b unable to hold back and just go straight for him. even tho that seems like itd take another week at least or more cuz of how he went 1 direction then another. so if shes going to track him, it seems shed catch up at double his speed or more but will still take a while so they might meet at the moment b4 or during his battle with monty. also they have to get a viable scapegoat to go with them as a trio to place all the blame on. so question is will she find and scout him and try to go back for rufus and the random fodder or go for the kill or get rufus and fodder 1st.
chris
honestly imo ive nvr thought even 1 of named characters (including the nameless torpor police) in chrysalis or bod is bland in the slightest. theyve all been fleshed out well and had their moments to shine. even if they were in just 1 chapter. a few who havent had names have even seemed to b given enough significance and personality for the few moments their in a chapter that their interesting and i wonder for a bit what they were like in universe. ur such an amazing writer. ur my #1 favorite author and both stories r #1 by a landslide, even my #2 fave book series deltora quest that i read for 3 months straight at my computer desk during my game addiction phase is still leagues behind how every chapter of both stories makes me feel wonder, amazed and a full array of emotions much stronger than that series did which i held at #1 even after many other stories b4 yours. way back around chapter 50 when the queen came out of her ant hill to beat the crocs and then thwacked anthony, i knew i was going to love ur stories even more than my favorites by a landslide in another 100 chapters. so stay healthy, take an extra break and have an extra free day for living ur life and to spend with ur family cuz me and many more of us dont want u stressing about being late or whatever. just stop writing even if u take it slow, especially when u have to worry bout ur health. we'll b here to welcome u back and excitedly read each chapter and patiently wait for the next 1. those who always want more faster faster faster just have no impulse control like laurel imo but at least its obvious how much they love ur stories too. lol srry for the wall of text XD
chris
i couldnt have said it better. mayb seeing rufus die and almost dieing herself shell learn her lesson, if she decides to flee making her 1st smart decision in the story. id have said logical instead cuz its actually not smart or dumb, just obvious but i think shes made a few logical decisions, i just cant remember what. but at least from then on shell actually start to make smarter decisions. lol if rinoz writes her into dieing in some chapters by tyron i wonder how hell work it out to make sense for her character since she seems like the type to know when to run. or will she get enough info out of bessun to know shes not and wont b till she gets high silver rank and is part of a big group of slayers a little higher lvl than her and of her potential. :)
chris
yup, all he needs to do is take their corpses prepare their bones and hold onto them and their souls till hes able to make revenants. hell definitely make some awesome archer revenants in the future. hopefully he can over time empower and grow their skills. making rufus and laurels revenants worth it at lvl 50+. >:D
dethrothes
What level is Laurel right now?
Edward
Yeah... suscription price went up and release rate went down...I'm kinda frustrated abot this...
Greyg
Weekly releases would be amazing i miss weekly releases
jonathan Wieringa
169 chrysalis en 69 BOD chaps, nice
jonathan Wieringa
nice idea
RunningSloth
I fear she'll try to extort the info out of them. Looks like the boys might meet up soon.
Rahsheem Reid
It would be cool too see Ty be able too pull the skills from the corpse/soul and use said skills for Elite undead.
RinoZ
I've honestly had people message me about how Laurel is much better than Elsbeth. Personally I'm just happy to see strong responses to the characters. Means they aint bland!
SwiftFate
Hope so, as much as they are village plebians, they would make good 'intelligent' undead. I get the feeling the MC is working to essentially Death Knights and such, and I could picture Rufus skeleton and spirit being used in some srt of armored undead. Laurel would makea great first attempt at a ranged undead too, something he is sorely lacking.
Grey Knight Lord
I feel both of them are going to end up as undead very soon.
SwiftFate
I could see Laurel surviving and thriving in this world. She is selfish and power hungry, but no mre than some others. Bit stupid that she would willingly follow Rufus though this lng. He on the otherhand, isan absolute dud. Your typical village bumpkin with delusions of grandeur, I don't understand how he has lasted this long and would be disappointed if he smehw actually became a threat or even managed to catch up with the MC's levels etc. Dude is your typical fodder, enough potential to become another tpical bronze rank, at 'best' a silver, by thetime he hits 60. I could see Laurel becming a Gold rank at least, maybe even Platnium one day IF she can improve her decision making skills a bit. Going after the MC is honestly retarded and she doesn't really have anything to gain. Not wrth the even remote possibility of pissing off his parents.
nugitoBambino
laurel's such a bitch. i hope she dies
Rahsheem Reid
Both should be used as fodder for Tyrion too grow in any way he sees fit once they are dead in the dirt.
Nathan Quitugua
Both probably
Nathan Quitugua
...im not even gonna lie...that really would fit her character. She's ruthless when it comes to trying to get ahead.
Frank Moore
She is the type to silence them all to cover a lead sge does not want shared.
Sean Hibbitt
Thanks for the chapter! I can't wait he next:)
Octaeon
M8, she just spoke to them excitedly. She's a bad person for sure, but I doubt she would torture women and children for information, especially since they seem willing to share it. I could be wrong, but so far she's done nothing wrong. Apart from showing bloodlust, which is not at all wrong imo
Yshua
Thanks for the chapter! :) I think it reads better if you replace “like” in the second to last sentence with whichever appropriate non-word divider. > She stepped forward, her eyes alight, a smile on her face—a cat with one paw planted firmly on a birds wing.
jonathan Wieringa
Elsbeth
Greyg
Nope Rufus is dumb as rocks and destined to be a skeleton and he’s a bottom level slayer he doesn’t even know the abyss exists
stubs
not sure if she wants to prize money for catching him, or the fun/thrill of hunting him.
Azgaroth
I think more like, because Esthel? the priestess, well is aligned with the Dark god, the other two would align with the other like, Laurel would choose the Court and Rufus the Abyssal (because he will think that Tyron was strong because of forbidden knowledge....)
Greyg
She’ll make a wonderful vampire, as she hasn’t advanced her class she is unbranded. Rufus on the other hand will be a test for Tryon coming against his first swordsman slayer it won’t be like fighting bandits his skeletons will be ignored or slaughtered by a real swordsman.
Frank Moore
She is a true monster, tjose poor women and children.
sebsebs
I don't mind Rufus having an early end but I hope she survives ; she seems smart enough and has a chance at redemption at least (she's amoral and pragmatic, not worse than the average slayer)
Amelgar
huh... wonder if she's going to report it or just go for him herself. I'm going to laugh if she only brings Rufus along.
