>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…
 
>Before you can get a look at the contents, a small hand shoots out from the coffin and shoves you away
"Ack!"
>You spill backwards, tripping over the hem of your cloak and falling to the ground
>Trixie folds her hands over her mouth, gasping
>"There was a *person* in there!?"
>A plume of frigid fog spills out of the coffin, chilling you as it wafts across your skin
>Trixie, of course, is unaffected
>In fact, she looks positively enthralled with the whole thing
>"Whoa!  You really sprung for some effects, huh?  Trixie loves it!"
>As the fog clears, a small humanoid figure drags itself from the coffin's depths, slowly coming into focus as the fog clears
>It's a young girl, probably not more than ten years old
>She's dressed in what looks like it used to be a formal gown, the style dating to sometime around the early Seventh Epoch, if your history skills serve you correctly
>At some point the dress was bright pink, but the color has faded to a dully rosy color, and a large portion of the lace, sleeves, and skirt have long since rotted away, leaving the dress barely capable of fully covering the girl's slender form
>Upon her brow, and nestled amongst her purple-white hair, she's wearing a slim silver crown, with a small pale-blue gem embedded in the center
>She's barely four feet tall, and her skin is the same pale, lifeless color as Trixie's
>Except she bears no reassembly scars, so she can't be a thrall
>Which leaves only…
"By the Spheres…"
>"Huh?  What's wrong?"
>Trixie glances between the girl and you, confused
"She's a lich!  Get away from her, idiot!"
>Trixie doesn't need to be told twice; she attempts to combat-roll away, but ends up doing only a clumsy somersault
>She ends up on her back, staring up at the sky
>"Trixie should have put more points into agility…"
>The lich girl still has her eyes closed, her consciousness probably still not quite fully recovered from hibernation
>You back away slowly, mind reeling
>A Banishment spell against a lich would be like attacking a Dracolyth with a kitchen knife
>What can you do?
>You could try to Bolster Trixie, and at least have her as a distraction while you escape
>Or you could--
>The lich's eyes flutter open
>Despite the pallid death-color of her skin, her eyes retain the same silver-blue she had in life
>She glances down at Trixie first, then up to you
>Her brow narrows, and she opens her mouth to speak
>As she does, more frozen vapor spills out from between her lips
>"Queth namai ves il?"
>The language is not one you recognize
"Um…"
>"Quetha namai, lanaja os quentala?"
>Trixie looks confused
>"Is she speaking Spanish or Elvish?  Trixie can't really te--"
>The lich girl whirls on Trixie, scowling
>With a flick of her hand, tendrils of freezing vapor materialize in the air around Trixie's head, covering her mouth
>When they dissipate, a sheet of solid ice is holding Trixie's jaws shut
>"Mph!  Mmhmm!"
>She struggles, trying to claw it off
>Immediately you turn and run, sprinting towards your backpack
>There has to be something in there that can help, right?
>You used the Rebuke scroll already, but that wouldn't be much help against a lich
>But you're sure you packed a minor offensive spell, at least enough to buy you some time--
>The lich girl extends a finger to you, and a sheet of ice springs up from the ground, forming around your feet and locking you in place
"G-gah!  Let me go!"
>Feet planted, you can twist around just far enough to see the lich girl stepping out of her tomb
>More vapor follows her, coating the ground beneath her feet in a layer of frost and ice crystals
>"Quenala ves il?"
"I don't understand you!"
>The lich balls her hands into little fists
>Macabre have mercy, she's going to kill you!
>You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself to finally be assumed into death…
>"How dare you address your princess in the Commyn tongue, you knave!"
>You open one eye
>The lich is standing a few feet from you, her fists balled up and cheeks puffed out
"W-what?"
>"I asked you a question!  Answer me, fool!"
"I… I don't…"
>You shake your head
"Who are you?"
>"What is this?  An insult?  I see you bear the garb of a Nekromante!  Are you a servant of the Unholiath?"
>A nekromante?
>That term hasn't been in use for thousands of…
>Wait, did she mention the Unholiath?
"No!  I'm a wayfarer!"
>"Ha!  A likely claim!  Now that I have finally escaped your lord's captivity, you seek to distance yourself from his wicked ways?  How convenient!  But such pitiful tricks will not work on me!"
>She snaps her fingers, and a perfectly-carved throne of ice rises from the ground behind her
>The young lich sits upon it, crossing her legs
>One foot still wears the remains of a silver shoe, while the other is bare
>"Now, Nekromante, explain to me your business with releasing my captivity, and why you have defected from your leader.  Should I find your reasons adequate than I, Princess Diamond of House Tiara, will spare you, as I suppose I am somewhat indebted to you for releasing me."
>Next to her, Trixie is still thrashing on the ground, trying to break the ice that holds her mouth shut
"I… I…"
>Your teeth are beginning to chatter just from the princess's presence; it feels like the ambient temperature has dropped by a good thirty degrees
"I was in the Underfell Crypt, uh… exploring, I guess.  I found your coffin, and…"
>"Underfell Crypt?  I know of no such place.  Are you to tell me that the Cursed One has been keeping me prisoner in some forgotten death-hovel!?"
>She gags, and the temperature drops further
>All around you, the trees begin to sag as their branches are weighed down by icicles
>"The insolence!  Tell me where I can locate your master, so that I may extract my revenge!"
"He's not my master!"
>"Your former master then, knave!"
"He's never been my master!"
>You're starting to get more than a little frustrated, despite the terror at coming face-to-face with a lich
"Look!  My name is Twilight Sparkle.  I'm a Wayfarer student of Night Light, my father.  I'm on my way to the Royal Academy in Canterlot, to study the Fell Arts under the tutelage of Wayfarer Luna.  I only found your coffin because I hoped that it'd act as proof of my abilities to the academy, and insure that--"
>"Blah, blah, blah, I didn't ask to hear your entire life put to song, knave!  I need to know where the Unholiath is, so that I may extract my revenge for this captivity!"
"No one's seen the Unholiath in decades!"
>"Hmph."
>Diamond frowns, twirling a finger through the air
>A small cloud of snowflakes forms, quickly blown away by a chilly breeze
>"Then come.  I shall take you into House Tiara as one of our servants.  Your first order is to help me locate my people!  I have no idea what this garish green land is, but we're clearly quite far from the gentle snows of Diadem.  Come!"
>She stands up from her throne, clapping her hands
>Immediately, the ice holding your feet dissipates
>"Direct me to the nearest town, vassal!"
"I am *not* your vassal!"
>Diamond sticks up her nose, letting out a haughty little "hmph!"
>"Insubordination will not be tolerated.  Direct me to a town, and I may see fit to reward you!"
"No!  I need to get to the Royal Academy!"
>"Well, no longer shall you serve as but another student.  Rejoice, Nekromante!  You've been chosen to enter into my service!  You should be quite happy about this.  Very few are fit to serve one such as myself--"
"Be shut, mortal eyes
Lose thyself
Insurmountable weight
Never to open
Darkness's descent!"
>You throw your hand out towards Diamond, index and middle finger extended, as if to poke the eyes of some invisible person
"Nag'aas vayan t-t-t...!"
>Diamond realizes what you're trying to do before you can finish the incantation
>The temperature drops to the point where your teeth are chattering too badly for you to speak, and the incantation peters off into nothing
>Your left knee begins to throb in pain as the joint pops, and a branch over your head shatters into splinters
>One of the larger twigs hits the ground next to you with a *splat*, immediately transforming into a twin-headed snake that writhes and hisses on the frozen ground
"Gah!"
>You jump back from the snake as it begins to bite madly at its surroundings
>Diamond extends her hand towards you, clutching her fist
>Immediately, a frigid, horrible pain begins to swell in your chest
>"Service to House Tiara is a gift, Nekromante.  And our house does not look kindly on those who refuse our gifts.  Is that understood?"
"What are you… Macabre save me…"
>You sink to your knees before Diamond, feeling like you're suffocating despite still pulling in air in large, desperate gulps
>Your breath is heavy with ice crystals, and you can feel yourself sinking into unconsciousness
>The clearing is completely coated in frost now, and even the sun is blacked out by a thick sheen of vapor
>"I can freeze your heart in your chest, Nekromante.  Repent your crimes against my house and agree to servitude."
"A-ack… gah…"
>"Mmf!"
>Trixie throws herself in front of you, and shoves Diamond away
>Immediately, the pain slackens
>Diamond goes slipping backwards, and summons a bed of snow to keep herself from falling onto the frozen ground
>She jumps to her feet, furious
>"How dare you strike me!?  Lifting a hand against your princess is punishable by death, Nekromante's Thrall!"
>"Trixie is already dead!  Hah!"
>Trixie poses, flexing her skinny arms
>"Gah!"
>Diamond clutches at Trixie like she did you, but Trixie just smirks
>"Trixie is impressed by this campaign's effects!  But your powers can't kill a zombie!  So ha!"
>She turns her back to Diamond, waving her butt in the lich's direction
>"Trixie wins!  You hear that?  Trixie is invinc--"
>Trixie's chest explodes as dagger-sharp icicles tear her heart apart from the inside out
>Her eyes go wide, and she falls to the ground, twitching
>Diamond, now huffing with fury, turns her eyes on you
>So much vapor is swirling in the air now that it's hard to even see her
>She probably won't even get a chance to kill you, you realize
>The cold is already dragging you down into unconsciousness...
>"Mistress!  Wait!'
>A new, unfamiliar female voice calls out from the coffin
>Immediately, Diamond stops
>The swirling vapor begins to still, and the temperature raises just enough to keep you from passing out
>Behind the lich, a small creature begins to drag herself out of the coffin, shaking frost from her silver, scaly body
>Her body is long, slender, and serpentine, with no arms or legs; her only limbs are a pair of batlike wings stretching out of her back
>Maybe it's just the cold making you dizzy, but you could swear you're looking at a--
>"Is that a baby dragon!?" Trixie calls out, seemingly so excited that she's forgotten she was just impaled a dozen times
>Diamond ignores her, running over to the coffin
>"Silvy!  You're awake!"
>She runs over to the coffin, and the tiny creature beats her wings, fluttering into the air and landing in Diamond's embrace
>"Yes, mistress!  I'm so glad to see you again!"
>The little dragon -- or dracolyth, you think is more accurate -- nuzzles Diamond's face
>Slowly, the cloud of frozen vapor dissipates, letting a little sun shine down to melt the ice surrounding you
>"Are you okay ma'am?  I'm sorry if that's not okay to say, but… you look really pale."
>"I'm perfectly fine, Silvy.  Oh, it's so good to see you again."
>She squeezes the little dragon against her chest
"Um…"
>Diamond looks over at you, scowling
>"I'm having a moment here!  Respect your princess's privacy!"
>You hold up a finger, but realize there's really nothing for you to say here
>Not just a lich, but a lich with a pet dracolyth?
>You're really starting to regret ever going digging around in that crypt…
>Diamond turns back to you, clearing her throat
>"Attention, vassals!  This is Silver Spoon.  She's been my closest friend and confidante since I was born."
>The little dracolyth blushes, averting her eyes
>"You're t-too nice, ma'am."
>Diamond sticks up her nose, clearly pleased with herself
>"I am but a gracious princess, as is expected of my stature.  Now!"
>She claps her hands, and the swirling fog immediately dissipates
>All around you, the ice melts away from the trees, leaving the ground slushy and damp
>You stagger to your feet, the pain in your chest finally gone
>Even the icicles impaling Trixie melt away, leaving her with several large, ragged holes in her chest
>Trixie begins to thrash on the ground, fingers probing the gaping hole just above her left breast
>"Uh… Trixie's really impressed by the effects, but, uh… t-they're starting to scare her a bit."
>She fits her entire hand inside of her chest cavity, her eyes widening
>"W-why isn't Trixie dead!?"
"For the love of…"
>You slap your forehead, kneeling down next to her
"Because you're a corpse, you absolute idiot.  How many times am I going to have to explain this to you?  It isn't some dumb game, it isn't pretend.  You.  Are.  A.  Thrall."
>You place your hands on Trixie, muttering under your breath
"Decayed flesh
Embrace fate
And turn away
Do not fear"
>You circle your hand over Trixie's chest, and poke a finger into the gaping holes left by the ice shards
"Iiskala nes'un vedarat."
>The spell goes off without a hitch, and Trixie's wounds close, returning her chest to a functional, though still dead, state
>Trixie gasps
>Her hands explore the newly-closed wounds, and even squish her breasts together for good measure
>"You… but… Trixie was… how…"
>And then, finally, it seems to dawn on her
>"This isn't a game… you're right…"
"Finally, you--"
>"This is all a dream!  Trixie is having the coolest dream ever!"
"No!  You absolute moron, it's not a dream!  This is real!"
>"Ha!  That's exactly what a dream-character would say!  And now that Trixie knows it's a dream, she can do anything!"
>Trixie jumps to her feet, posing
>Diamond, meanwhile, is lounging in her coffin
>"Come, new vassals!  Your princess orders you to carry her to the newest town!  She needs to find passage back to the Frostlands, to reunite with House Tiara!"
"I refuse!  There's no way in Macabre's Dark Domain that I'm carrying you all the way into town!  I've hauled you around enough already!"
>Diamond snaps her fingers, and you feel that same horrible, freezing pressure building in your chest again
"Gah, fine!"
>The pressure goes away
"I'll take you to a town.  But that's it."
>"That sounds excellent, vassal.  If you truly were only in search of artifacts, then you need not fear.  House Tiara has collected ancient magical Wyrds from the dawn of history!  We can part with one or two, I'm sure, in exchange for your service."
"Hmph.  Whatever.  Trixie, come here!"
>Trixie immediately appears at your side, bouncing with excitement
>"Trixie can't believe how cool this is!  She gets to be a zombie!  And go on zombie adventures!  And she's invincible too!  Trixie bets she could jump out of that tree and be fine!"
"Of course you could, you thrice-blasted idiot.  Now hold still."
>You root through your packs, finding a few of your Necronomicon excerpts
>Trixie watches over your shoulder
>"Oooh, what's that?  More spells?"
"Yes.  Now hold still, okay?"
>"Trixie can't!  She's too excited!"
>You clap a hand on Trixie's shoulder, to find her vibrating like a tuning fork
>Stupid corpse…
"I'm going to Bolster you, okay?  It might feel a little weird."
>"Bolster?  What does that mean?"
"Strength unfettered
Take form
Released potential"
>You cross your arms in front of your chest, and extend your fist towards Trixie
"Iiksil vam; kodor'i!"
>A few vaporous tendrils of power slip from your knuckles and are absorbed by Trixie's shoulders
>She cocks her head
>"Trixie doesn't feel any different…"
"You shouldn't.  But you're Bolstered now.  Go lift that coffin."
>Trixie obliges, hoisting the entire thing into the air with just one hand
>Diamon yelps
>"Careful, knave!"
>Trixie gets so excited she nearly drops Diamond, making the princess yelp again
>"I said to be careful!"
>Trixie turns to you
>"Look!  Look how strong Trixie is!"
"Yes.  That's what a Bolster does.  I have others, but we'll save those for later."
>You collapse your tent, roll it up, and strap it over your back
>All-in-all, it only takes you five minutes to get packed
>The entire time, Trixie pesters you with questions
>"You can do more?  Like what?  Can you make Trixie super fast"
"Yes."
>"Super smart?"
"I don't know about "super," knowing you…"
>"Could you make her grow wings?"
"Yes, actually."
>"Oh!  Do that one next!"
"No!  We have a mission to do!'
>Diamond cackles above you
>"That's right!  It's good to finally have vassals again!  Onwards!"
>She points forward, sitting back in her coffin and crossing her legs
"Ugh.  Fine.  Let's just go…"
>You stomp away, trying to keep your mood in check
>Trixie marches behind you, whistling happily, though completely out of key
>"Hey!  You said your name's Twilight, right?"
"Yeah."
>"That's cool!  I'm Trixie."
"Yeah, I gathered."
>"It's really cool to meet you.  Thanks for all the cool powers."
"Yeah.  Fine.  Whatever."
>And with that, the four of you set off...