Title:           NecroTwi
Author:          JeffMango
Pastebin link:   http://pastebin.com/NB5U0Bpn
First Edit:      Saturday 30th of July 2016 01:10:36 AM CDT
Last Edit:       Last edit on: Saturday 30th of July 2016 01:38:10 AM CDT

>What most people don't realize is that midnight is far from the darkest point of the night
>The true "darkest" moment usually occurs around an hour after the clock has struck that fateful point
>But tonight, such a distinction is pointless to make; the stars shine down in a mantle of gray-white light, blanketing you and the forest around you
>You are Twilight Sparkle, slowly whispering your incantation under your breath
>The first step of a properly-cast spell requires Intent, usually spoken in the caster's most familiar language
>And so the words slip from your tongue in the Lingua Franca you've known since you were a child
"Earth-bound matter
Immobile
Impart intent
To move again
Await habitation
Putrefaction reversed…"
>Intent is the easiest portion, capable of being memorized by even an adept
>Slightly more difficult, though, are the Somatics
>You flick your wrist, fingers spreading out like spiders over the cold, packed dirt
>Beneath them, a few small fissures appear in the dirt, and your hair lifts as a chilly breeze rustles through the clearing
>And then you arrive at the most difficult portion
>The Incantation itself
>Unlike establishing the spell's intent, the incantation must be spoken in one of the Eleven Primordial Tongues
>All which are devilishly difficult, and single smallest grammatical mistake, mispronunciation, stutter, or the slightest error in syntax can destroy a spell's integrity, often resulting in misfortune for the caster
>For Necromancy, the tongue is that of Macabre, one of the most devilish and perplexing, even amongst such inscrutable company
>Fastidious student you are, you've reviewed the grammar of your particular incantation at least a dozen times, and you're certain by now that it's correct
>But the doubt persists in the back of your mind
>Opening your mouth, you place your tongue into position to speak the unhallowed syllables
>"Ancalaveth iiskoros; nem'ee vanaviin…"
>A slight tremor in your voice causes the final word to warble, despite its grammar being perfect
>Pain shoots through your skull as one of your teeth freezes solid, and a shrub a few meters to your right wilts into a petrified skeleton
>You wince, but still manage to complete your Somatics, placing your open palm down onto the cracked dirt
>For a moment, nothing happens
>And then the earth begins to bubble, the cracks widening into fissures as dead flesh is regurgitated from deep within the dirt
>The matter quickly begins to coalesce into recognizable parts: arms, legs, a torso
>Even a featureless head forms, its eyes closed and its mouth stitched shut
>The pieces slowly drift into their proper anatomical positions, making stomach-churning *splat* sound as they use together
>Joints, limbs, neck, and head all connect, leaving a fleshy dummy lying spread-eagled across the ground in front of you
>You let your breath out in a huff, feeling more taxed than you thought you would
>Still, you're halfway done
>Now to repeat the process:
>Step one, establish Intent
"Out of the ether
Wandering soul
Again
Held in flesh
Speak not
Listen
Obey"
>Step two, Somatics:
>You clasp your hands above your head, raise them down to your sternum, and then back up to the sky
>The trees groan, bending a few degrees away from your position, as if abhorring the abomination being wrought before them
>And now the final step, the Incantation
"Adarras iiskoronom dav'a kolkoro…"
>Your pronunciation is borderline perfect this time
>Only the slightest slip in your "ii" vowel length causes the muscle in your right pinkie to cramp
>The breeze lifts in strength, and for a moment, even the stars themselves seem to fade out, as if blinking in surprise
>The corpse stirs, slightly, lifting its left arm
>Y-you did it!
>Getting shakily to your feet, you creep away from your new servant as it slowly sits up
>Already, its body is beginning to change, attempting to adapt to the shape it bore in life
>It shortens to a few inches below your height, its stomach pinching together and its hips swelling out
>The vague indication of breasts begins to grow at its -- or her, you suppose -- chest
>Ratty bandages wrap around the corpse, as the spirit attempts to maintain some of her decency
>The Necronomicon said some attempt at reverting its form in life would occur, but this seems like more than it promised
>The corpse even begins to regain some of her facial features
>Bandages fall away, revealing full-formed violet eyes
>They peer around in confusion, landing on you
>You freeze as the corpse regards you
>From her scalp, silver-blue hair sprouts, falling neatly down to her shoulders
>Color begins to return to her face, leaving her looking more "deathly pale" than, well, "dead"
>She shakily gets to her feet, rags hanging from her body as she stands
>Her hands and feet are fully intact, as is the rest of her
>Aside from the stitched mouth, and the obvious wounds left where different parts joined together, she looks almost like she could be a very convincing circus act, not a reanimated body
>The girl just stares at you, her face blank
>And then the stitches binding her mouth pop open
>She smacks her lips, revealing a fully functioning tongue and an intact set of teeth
>"Wow… how long was Trixie asleep?"
>She looks to you, as if you'll be able to answer her
"Y-you… you're…"
>"Hmm?  Are you okay?  Do you know where Trixie is?"
"You're not supposed to be able to talk!"
>"Trixie isn't entirely sure what you mean.  Do you know what's going on?  The last thing she remembers was being in the hospital, and then…"
>She looks down at herself, examining the re-attachment scars criscrossing her body and the rags she's clad in
>"Whoa…"
"Gah, how do I dismiss…"
>You throw down your packs, digging through them to find your Necronomicon excerpts
>Fortunately, dismissing an undead is far easier than summoning it
>"Oh!  Trixie knows what this is!"
>She points at you
>"You're with the Make A Wish foundation!  You finally got Trixie's wish!"
"The make-a-what?  No!  I'm your master!"
>You stand up, paper flying everywhere as your pack spills on the ground
"You serve me!  And I order you not to speak?"
>"Huh?  Oh!  This is part of the LARP, right?  So you're like an evil wizard, and Trixie's your zombie slave?  That's so cool!"
>The girl, Trixie, pumps her fist
>"Trixie knew this wish would pay off!  So, what's the goal?  What's our quest?"
>She bounces over to you, lurching around in some ridiculous fashion with her arms held out in front of her
>"Oh, wait.  Trixie means, 'Bleh… what is your wish… master… blehhhhh…'"
"Be quiet!  I ordered you not to speak!"
>Oh, sweet Unholiaths of Old, what did you do?
>Why does she looks so human?
>Why isn't she obeying?
>AND WHY WON'T SHE STOP TALKING?
>You finally find the scrap of parchment with the Banishment instructions
>The Intent is simple
"Begone, besmircher of sacred Death!"
>The Somatic, also, is quite simple: you throw your hand out, palm held up, as if to shove the corpse away
"Iiskor'va!"
>"Whoa!  Is that a spell?"
"Yes!  It's a Banishment!  You're supposed to be banished!"
>"Oh, sorry!  Trixie doesn't know all the rules yet.  Do you need to roll something, or--"
"Iiskor'va!"
>You attempt the spell again
>This time, however, you force the Incantation out a little too hard
>Immediately, pain rockets through your right leg as your ankle twists
"G-gah!"
>You go down hard, landing in a heap
"Ow, ow!"
>"Are you okay?"
>Trixie bends down, peering quizzically at you
>"W-was this the work of an enemy spell?  Do you have Detect Magic prepared?"
"What are you talking about?"
>"Metagaming, sorry.  Can you detect magical auras?"
"This was my own magic, you idiot!  Ow, it hurts!"
>You roll over, cradling your hurt ankle
>"Out of character!" Trixie announces loudly enough that the whole forest can probably hear her
>"Is that a real injury?" she whispers
"Yes, it's real!  Agh!"
>You arch your back, gritting your teeth against the pain
>Why won't this stupid corpse just let you banish her?
>"Oh no!  Here, let Trixie help you!"
>Your "servant" hooks her arms under yours and lifts you up, supporting you at her side
>Her skin is frigid, as expected
>Fortunately, the putrefaction is reversed to the point where she no longer reeks of death
>Instead, there's a mellow, earthy smell to her
"Ow, ow…"
>"Oh!  Sorry!  Did Trixie hurt you?"
"Just shut up, okay?  Unholiath's Breath, why won't you just shut up?"
 
>With Trixie's help, you limp back to your campsite
>"Trixie is really, really sorry if she messed up the game!"
"I said shut up."
>"She really didn't mean to!  She can call a hospital if you want.  They'll probably be looking for her anyway.  Do you know where Trixie's phone is?"
>You've lost all track of what she's babbling about, to the point she might as well be speaking Helios
>Though you understand even Helios a lot better than you understand her
>Finally, the two of you reach your tent
>Trixie sits you down on a log, then waits patiently for more instructions
>You get more than a little comfort from the guilt on her face
>"Can, um… Trixie do anything to help?"
"Finally!  The spell must just be taking a while to properly bind you.  Must be the result of my stumbling.  But it's good to see you're -- ow -- finally willing to take orders!"
>"Y-yes, Master!  Trixie ready for orders!  Bleh…"
>She begins to lurch around again, looking relieved and sticking her tongue out
"Shut up!  That's your first order!"
>Trixie snaps to attention, giving you some sort of… salute?
"There's a wooden box in my tent, next to the bedroll.  Grab it for me."
>"Yes, master… bleh…"
"And stop saying that!  Don't you know what-- oh, never mind."
>You hold your head in your hands
>All you wanted was a servant to carry your things...
>Well, one thing in particular
>The coffin lies just outside your tent, the starlight reflecting of its onyx surface
>It's been enchanted to be lightweight, you think, but it's still far too heavy for you to carry over long distances
>Which is why you need a servant who obeys!
>Not a loudmouth who talks like a child!
>Trixie returns with the box, setting it at your side
>"Trixie has fetched it, master… bleh…"
"I said stop!  What part of stop do you not get!?"
>Trixie backs away
>"Is… is that in character?  Or out of character?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about!  Just stop!"
>"Oh!  In character.  Of course, right, sorry.  Trixie just isn't used to the game yet!"
>She beams, before resuming her stiff-armed position, sticking her tongue out
>"Of course, master… bleeeeh… Trixie will stop…"
"Gah!  You're impossible!"
>You flip open the lid of the box, pulling out a small vial of red liquid
>About half a sip should be enough, you figure
>Pulling the cork from the vial, you drain a small sip of its contents, feelings the electric, vaguely-salty fluid run down the back of your throat
>Immediately, your ankle begins to itch, then to burn, and *cracks* as it pop back into place
>You rotate your foot a bit, just to make sure it's fully healed
>"Whoa!  Those are awesome health potions!  Do they really work?  For real?  Can Trixie try one?"
"No!  I mean, yes, of course they work, but  not on you, idiot!  You're dead."
>"Oh, right.  Is that part of the rules?"
"Rules?  What rules?  You can't use health potions because you're a corpse, you--"
>You stop yourself, realizing how futile this is
"Never mind.  Just… here.  Keep watch for the night, okay?"
>"We're playing all night?  Whoa!  That's so immersive!"
>Trixie covers her mouth immediately
>"Oops, broke character again, sorry.  I mean 'Yes, master… Trixie will guard against the terrors of the night… blehhhh."
"Just keep watch.  And don't talk.  Your master orders you not to talk."
>Trixie finally seems to get the hint, and nods
>You carry the wooden box back into your tent and collapse onto your bedroll
>Hopefully by morning the Banishment will have taken effect, and you won't have to look at her stupid grin anymore
 
>When you awaken, the first thing you notice is the silence
>No loudmouthed chatter, no bleh's, nothing
>Happiness and relief swell in your chest almost immediately
>She's finally gone!
>Now you just have to repeat the spell, and hopefully you can call up another servant to carry the coffin for you
>One that talks significantly less, hopefully
>You open your tent, breathing in the crisp morning air…
>"Good morning!"
>Suddenly, the corpse is squatting down in front of you, staring you right in the eye
>And you're really not a fan of the dumb grin on her face
"Why are you still here?"
>You don't even have the energy to be angry with her right now
>"Trixie went looking for breakfast!  She tried to forage, because that's more in-character, right?  But, uh… Trixie doesn't know how to forage."
"Of course you don't.  You're a thrall!  You're not supposed to forage!  You're not supposed to even want food."
>"Well, in character, yes.  But Trixie is out-of-character hungry."
>She pats her stomach
"What… what in all of the Eight Spheres are you talking about?  Character?  What do you think this is!?"
>"Um… in character or out of character?"
"No more characters!  You!  Who are you?"
>"T-Trixie Lulamoon?"
"And where are you from?"
>"Uhhh… Canterlot City?"
"Where is that?"
>"The United States."
"Of?"
>"Equestria?"
>And that's when you slap your forehead, realizing what's happened
"Oh, Macabre save me…"
>You jab a finger into Trixie's chest, right between her breasts
>As expected, her heart isn't beating
"You're an imp, aren't you?"
>"Trixie thought she was a zombie."
"Agh!  You are an imp!  You're getting some horrible demonic pleasure out of this, aren't you!"
>"Trixie is starting to get confused… is she an imp in character?"
"Agh!  No!  Get away from me!"
>You try to run, but Trixie keeps up with you
>"Trixie can't!  She doesn't know where she is!  She tried to find a McDonalds when foraging didn't work, but she couldn't!  What kind of barren wasteland doesn't have a McDonalds?"
>You freeze in your tracks, and Trixie freezes as well
>"Are you okay?  Do you need Trixie to--"
>And then you whirl around, sprinting back to the campsite
>Thankfully your healed ankle holds up, but Trixie's still right behind you
>Right, of course
>You can't outrun a corpse, they don't get winded
>Still!
>You're ending this now!
>You grab up your packs and root through them, reaching deep into a hidden leather pouch near the bottom
>From within, you draw out a scroll tied by white ribbon, holding it out towards Trixie
>Now, casting a spell on your own can be quite an involved and dangerous process
>But, a wily spell caster can modify their incantation such that the desired spell is stored inside a mundane object, reacting only when exposed to a certain trigger
>And in this case, the spell is Rebuke, and the trigger requires only that you unfurl the scroll
>Trixie watches, eyes wide with excitement, as you unfurl the scroll, holding it like a shield between the two of you
"Begone, tormenter!  Return to the pit that is prepared for you!"
>The scroll erupts in flame, a cone of harsh white light washing over Trixie
>She blinks her eyes, dazed
>"Wow…"
"W-why didn't it work!?"
>"It worked great!  That was *so* cool!  Where'd you get it?"
>She runs over to your backpack, beginning to root through it
>"Do you have any more?  Can Trixie try one?"
"No!  Gah, what are you?  Why can't I banish you?"
>"Uh… maybe you didn't roll high enough?"
>You try to speak, but you've reached the point where you're physically to mad to even form words
>So you stomp back over to your tent, throwing yourself onto your bedroll
>Why won't she go away, why won't she go away, why won't she go away…
>Trixie follows you over to your tent, moseying around
>Now that she's mentioned it, though, you are a little hungry…
>Near the bundle of cloth that serves at your pillow, you've stored a satchel full of bread and dried fruit
>You pull out a few pieces, making yourself a meager meal of prunes and sourdough
>Trixie pokes her head in, staring at your food
"What?"
>"Nothing."
>You try to take a bite, but she won't stop looking at you
"Stop doing that!"
>"Sorry.  Trixie is just… she's a little hungry.  She wanted to ask if you'd be okay... sharing?"
>She gives you a hopeful grin
"I told you, idiot.  You're a corpse.  Corpses don't eat."
>"Yeah, but, out of character, Trixie is getting kind of hungry."
"Would you stop with the 'character' nonsense already, you stupid, irritating--"
>Your words die out when you see the look on Trixie's face
"Ugh, fine.  Here."
>You tear her off a chunk of bread, and pass it to her along with a handful of dried apple slices
"Can't believe I'm wasting food on a thrall.  Whatever.  But you'd better keep the 'character' nonsense to yourself from now on, though."
>"Yeeees, master…. bleh…"
>Trixie rolls her eyes back in her head as she devours half of your breakfast
"And stop talking like that!"
>"Then how should Trixie talk, master?"
"Just… just don't, okay?  Unless I speak to you, you're not to speak."
>"Understood!  Wait, did that count as speaking to Trixie?"
>You just stand up and leave the tent, massaging your temples
>Trixie follows you, quivering with the desire to ask more questions
>She gets the opportunity after only about thirty seconds, when her eyes land on the onyx treasure you brought back from the Underfell Crypt
>"Oh!  What's that?"
>She crouches down next to the coffin, peering at her own reflection in its polished surface
"Not sure yet.  I found it in the Underfell Tomb, about three leagues from here.  According to legend, an Unholiath built a fortress within its depths, way back before the First Skeleton War.  They're long gone now, but I bet some of his power is stored in the coffin, somehow!"
>You find yourself injecting more pride into your voice than is really necessary, considering you're only speaking to your thrall
>After all, why brag to a corpse?
>Trixie's eyes go wide
>"Whoa… so you mean… there could be a super high-level artifact inside this!?"
>You blink, surprised
>That might have just been the most cogent thing your new thrall has ever said
"Um, yes, actually.  That's exactly what I think.  But it's protected by a powerful enchantment, and I can't open it."
>"You can't?  What's the enchantment?"
"I have no idea.  But whatever it is, I can't dispel it."
>"Wow.  Must be super strong!  Have you tried just opening it?"
"Of course, you moron."
>"Can Trixie try?"
>You blow a raspberry
"As if!  If I can't find a way past the enchantments, there's certainly no way you can.  It's far too sophisticated for--"
>*click*
>The lid of the coffin lifts slightly, and a frigid gust of air stirs from within it
"W-what!?  How!?"
>"Trixie pressed this little switch right here."
>Your thrall taps the side of the coffin, staring innocently up at you
"What switch!?  I surely would have noticed a switch!  How did… you… how…"
>Trixie shrugs
>"Was that not supposed to happen?  We can retcon it, if you want."
"You absolute moron…"
>You drop to your knees, fingers shaking as you reach towards the coffin
>More of the frozen air seeps out, causing a row of icicles for form along your wrist
>Ass you open the coffin, the grass in the clearing blackens and dies, leaving the onyx box surrounded in a perfect three-meter-wide circle of death
>Your breath fogs from your nostrils as you peer into the coffin's depths…