The Dead
5/27
Abby looked around with the eyes of her apprentice, keeping watch. The small church plot outside of Kharazan wasn’t guarded, per se. The area was saturated with magic and not much else, which led to a proliferation of spirits. Old ones, too. Centuries old, used to their freedom, and well fed on the arcane energy of the place. One ghost in the graveyard had already somehow sensed their intent, and done everything in its power to stop them from disturbing the freshest graves here. It took Tara, Abby, and Eliza working together to subdue the spirit, and she wasn’t even that powerful. Just very resistant to command. Regardless, she would serve well.
As she was serving right now, digging up the grave of Nielas Aran. They had checked for Medivh, the last Guardian of Tirisfal, first; sadly the grave had been empty. The caretaker, Moroes, had visibly been dug up at some point, or perhaps he’d dug himself out. The only other grave present that was from the current century was only labeled “Cook.” Tara wanted to retrieve it on principle, but they were in dangerous territory. If the master wanted a skilled chef, there were dozens available in Stormwind alone. Most of them even had real names, presumably.
Nielas had been the court mage of Stormwind once, and had been father to Medihv. Not the more powerful of the Guardian’s parents to be sure, but still an archmage. Abby couldn’t decide if she wanted him in a state where he could be raised by Tara, or as a body for herself. She hadn’t taken a body stronger than herself before; she didn’t know what it might do. She hoped it would allow her to grow rapidly, as the master did.
The corpse was heavily decomposed, and Tara looked it over before shaking her head. “His soul is not available in a form I can call.”
‘Oh goody.’ Abby thought. ‘More for me, then.’
They gathered up the decomposed corpse and brought him back to their new lab in miss Ursula’s second basement. It was a lovely little space, set aside for all manner of illicit arcana. Lady Deline even seemed interested in learning a bit of necromancy, though at the moment she was having far too much fun crafting her maid into a plaything. Charm is quite a potent spell with repeated use, and apparently the girl had been foisted upon her by a peer. Ah well, she’d have to miss this one.
“Lillibeth. You will assist. Our intent is to empower this body as much as possible. I’m thinking a full diagram if we can manage it. Do you feel more confident inscribing blood or unholy runes?”
The process was involved, as it must be. She was, she admitted, inadequate to the task. The three of them, working together, would likely still botch the job from a certain point of view. Without the spirit, his mind would be severely reduced. His physical frame would be unimpressive. She didn’t have any particular desire to embellish and elaborate on him as she had with Stitches. Compared to what a body like this was theoretically capable of, it would be pathetic.
She didn’t care much. She intended for it to be hers, and for her own body she cared most about its ability to channel energy. In the center of the circle of runes, she included one of her own design. One representing herself, which would hold her securely so long as the body functioned properly. They animated the corpse, pouring Abby in through Lillibeth’s fingers into the circle of runes. As the body accepted her, she opened her eyes.
Everything felt… not quite cold. Distant. Neutral. Lifeless. Not to her liking. She accessed her profile and switched the marker for “biological sex” from male to female, and twisted in pain as her body reshaped itself to be more pleasing to the eye. The blood runes, representing life, seared her as her flesh expanded to fill her newly soft and smooth skin. Eyes that had dried and rotted away were replaced with a glowing golden facsimile. Her breasts grew to respectable handfuls and her lips plumped up as they darkened.
“Hmm? So he was a brunette?” She asked herself as her bangs fell in front of her eyes. Still short, in a mannish cut. No, she preferred long and blonde. She’d hate for anyone to realize she was using the body of an old man. She preferred to inspire lust, and any connection to a wrinkled old bastard might turn some people off. She liked the eyes, but she gave her skin just the slightest hint of peach. Just enough that she would reasonably be mistaken for one of the living. At least by the uneducated, who would take her eyes to mean she was a mere mage.
https://imgur.com/a/9t8Zwoy
Yes. This body felt good. Abby stepped over to give her wife a long, lingering kiss. Lillibeth was depressingly straight, so casual affection had been off the table while she had been occupying the girl’s body. Not entirely out of consideration, she had to admit. Lillibeth’s feelings were just distracting unless she was unconscious, and her physical reactions were muted if she was. Lose lose.
“Luckily, you have become competent. Consider your apprenticeship over; I believe Master Bismark has other plans for you? Go ask about them.” Abby snaked an arm around Eliza’s waste. “We have to test to be sure this body can perform. Oh, and I suppose I'll find some clothing at some point.”
Lillibeth, flustered, decided this was the right time to leave. Before she completed her teleportation, she remembered to squeak out a “thank you.” Abby appreciated that. The girl was an adequate vessel and apprentice; she would go far.
••••••••••
Sylvanas had more fun than she liked to admit playing with Nathanos’s gift. It preferred to take forms that were transparent, tattered, or seemingly made of bone, but it also had no difficulty returning to her normal work clothes. In all cases, even her heaviest armor, it made her best tailored clothing feel itchy and ill fitting by comparison.
She knew, intuitively, how to use it. It was not her physical body but her spiritual one that truly wore the shroud, and it rapidly came to feel like an extension of her innermost self. She could do some truly amazing things, as well. One in particular would be important to master quickly.
Sylvanas sent a runner to summon Aelthalyste to her chambers. It wasn’t often that she made demands of the Cult of Forgotten Shadows rather than requests, but this was urgent and the very irregularity would make her more likely to react quickly. As hoped, the banshee arrived promptly, with a perfectly composed expression.
“My queen. I do hope that this is something that we can deal with quickly. I have recently been given access to something of great interest and I would like to start with it soon.”
“Yes, hopefully it will be dealt with very quickly.” Sylvanas was back to normal. The purring kitten was a fun mask to put on in private, but when she was working she was the Banshee Queen once more. “Nathanos found quite an interesting item on the corpse of a certain cultist.”
Nathanos gave a rather concise explanation of how the Cult of the Damned had created a cloak which seemed to allow them to network multiple spirits together around a single individual. Their senses would be shared, allowing incredible coordination.
“Of course, it is Scourge made, so we cannot trust it without first testing it. That is why I need you to examine the effects. No one is better equipped to assess and react to any side effects.” She wove a charm spell into the words. Literally saying charm to cast was, of course, easier. It was also blatantly obvious. That would not do when dealing with a shadow priest.
Aelthalyste, for all her skill, was not immune to charming. The charm was simple, just a push to ignore normal protocols and trust her Queen’s judgement. She hadn’t been expecting to need it, so her mind was not forked. As such, when she created a fork for testing, both minds were charmed. “Now, simply allow yourself to become a part of me.” Consent made her shroud stronger, able to work instantly, and it was freely given as long ribbons of soul extended from her cape and wrapped around the Banshee. In moments, Aelthalyste was an extension of Sylvanas.
They went, together, to fetch the amulet. As they did, they repeated the lie to any of her banshee that they encountered, and added them to the Gestalt mind. Non ghostly members of the cult were forbidden contact with the necklace until they fully understood how it worked. Which really meant an opportunity for the first dozen of them all to gather together with one mind and tell the master that he was loved. It was a chorus, with them all speaking in the same tone and inflection, with the same thinly veiled desire to serve. She released them all afterwards; her sister banshee had no need to be dominated to serve the master. Not anymore.
As she withdrew the tendrils, they began discussing the narrative they would present, and the operational security implications. Obviously anyone who knew about the necklaces would need to be added to their number or eliminated; thankfully it was a highly classified project. The explanation that they had cracked the code seemed the most reasonable approach, since that was obviously what they had been trying to do in the first place.
Varimathras first; he may be cowed, but he wasn’t really loyal. This necklace would fix that. The forgotten shadows would come next. Aelthalyste had trusted her, and was clearly not immune, but if anyone was going to figure out something was wrong it would be her sect. Sadly, most were physical undead that she could not dominate with her shroud, and charming is far more risky on someone with the knowledge to fight it.
Obviously her own banshee would be a priority; not because of their value, though that was obvious. No, a very big part of her desire to capture them in her master’s name was the euphoric feeling of being captured; she could feel it again and again through the spirits she could gift him. She was no hedonist, but if she could combine vital work and pleasure then of course she would do so.
The shroud had bound her, it had empowered her, and it had enslaved her. She was so thankful that it had also enthralled her. The hopeless submission of the Scourge would have been torture to return to, but this? This was a wonderful sort of clarity of purpose that sat alongside vengeance, complimenting it and making her unlife feel complete again. She would still destroy the Lich King, as it was something both she and her master desired, and after that? She had an eternity of domination to look forward to.