A Necromancer's Tale

“So you think if we find this locket it will be another one of those keys that help us close the doors that those demons keep coming through?” She looks at the older man sitting at the small breakfast table as he shovels small mouthfuls of brown cereal into his mouth.

He looks up at her and swallows a bite of the tasteless sustenance before giving her and exhausted response, “You know it doesn’t work that way. We've found keys to hell and closed several doors before. I don’t think the church knows how many anymore.” He motions to another bowl, “you should have something to eat before we head out.”

“They have a regimented breakfast at the convent, thank you.” The young women in a plain grey sweatsuit sits across from him. “Then why are we going out of our way to find this key? When you heard about it from Saint Michael you made it sound like it was a big deal. There are several other contracts out that…”

“No. This is priority, you are right.” He finishes up his breakfast and stands up from the small table. He turns from the small table and rinses his breakfast utensils in the sink and leaves them on a towel off to the side to dry.

In a practiced routine he heads to a small bathroom while the young women waits for him. She absently reads the back of the cereal box and talks to him through the bathroom door, “The Father George never seems to see the world like you and I do. I still think it strange that so many people here cannot see the demons walking amongst them.”

The sound of running water and washing hands are followed by the older man walking out the door. “This is as much a purgatory as it is a sanctuary. There is bliss in ignorance, and a burden in knowledge.” He walks over to a coat stand by the door and grabs a grey coat with red crosses across the elbows. As he puts the coat on it makes a gentle jingle sound.

From the coat stand he also pulls out a a short triple barreled shotgun that is heavily inscribed with silver and red runes. He slides it into a holster positioned on his right thigh that his grey jacket just barely covers. He checks to ensure that it's secure to his leg and looks up to see the young women next to him and they both walk out the door.

1. Cemetery

“You'll have to wait outside.” He says with a bit of a grin as they walk close to the entrance.

“I'll still not sure why they won’t talk while I'm around.” She doesn’t get annoyed much anymore. She’s not new to this, and she’s been his partner now for a while… but this part still bothers her. The being left in the dark.

“They don’t trust where you came from or who your father was.” That’s mostly true.

“I don’t even understand all that.” She kicks a rock across the street and leans against the stone wall. It’s not terribly tall, only a few feet, but it’s effective at its job.

“What’s not to get? You're the daughter of the physical manifestation of hell and the archetype to the destruction of humanity. Simple metaphysics.” A half grin begins to touch his lips. Sometimes he treated her like he would have his daughters. That wasn’t so bad, sometimes. He missed them and could see how they could have grown up like her.

“Yeah, simple… I'll hang out here and watch out for bad guys.” She wrapped her arms around herself and started looking around. As far as backup went, you could get worse. She was strong and could see through the veil. Even though her own powers were limited unless there was a tear or she was on the other side, she was still a damn good partner.

He gave her a wave and entered through the gate and was immediately greeted by the overwhelming pressure of the collected spirits. Here it was hard to ignore that the world had ended.

Necromancer… it is you! Have you come to summon us?

He kept walking until he came to a familiar bench. The pressure and the voices kept increasing…

It was like gently flexing a muscle, “I come seeking your help and there is one newly to your collective who can guide me. I seek a locket… “ and he took out a picture from his pocket and focused upon it, “someone has seen this.” And he repeated this over, and over…

Necromancer, I have seen this locket. A single voice begins to separate itself from the others.

The Necromancer focuses on the voice and it manifests into an aspect standing within the cemetery.

Moments go by while the apparition manifests itself to him. He feels the collective presence of the unconscious around him all the time, but it is always strongest in cemeteries, closest to where people believe that they can come to commune with their dead ancestors. This makes it easier for him to provide the catalyst for the deceased remnant spirt to share their most passionate memories.

I… know you.

“Perhaps you did. You are saying you’re familiar with the locket I’m looking for.” He focus his willpower to try and keep this apparition lucid. Dead spirits will sometimes loose their focus as their become one with the unconscious.

No… we… I knew you… we… were in the crusade together… when the world died.

That was a surprise. He tried to focus more willpower to see if he could see the face of the ghost. ”What is your name?” Sometimes they know their dead, sometimes they don’t.

Your coat… you are of the Justicar’s office of Saint Abdiel? One of his Necromancers?

“Saint Michael’s. Sorry. The locket, you know of it?” He makes a mental image of it and knows that the specter can see it as well as he can hear the words that are coming out of his mouth. The magic of Necromancy.

That’s why you were fighting in the Crusade. One of Michael’s warriors. Yes. The locket… it is being used as an access key to open a door to hell. There is one who calls himself the Suzerain and he considers himself the a significant gangster of downtown Manhattan, but he’s just another demon collecting souls of our dying planet. He owns a restaurant on 16th and 6th. I used to be security there, after the war, there wasn’t much work…

He was getting ready to drift off again, “where is the door?”

In the walk-in freezer. Tell them the Suzerain sent you and they will escort you right to it. I can remember now what you did in the Crusade, how you killed the world…

That’s when SHE started screaming.

2. Attack

He started running. The cemetery close to his apartment wasn’t that big, luckily. She was unarmed, but that shouldn’t have been a problem for her.

As he got closer, he could see her standing squarely against a large man, maybe seven feet tall. Her grey sweatsuit back was to him and he could see that she had recently been on her back. He had to focus to see through the veil that was surrounding the man.

Through an aura he could see that there wasn’t just a man there, but a nine or ten foot wolf-like creature. It’s front “legs” or arms rested on the ground and his back legs were bent, preparing to lung forward at the young women. He grabbed the short gun from his thigh and yelled, “GET DOWN!” As the Were-Wolf lunged at Her, she dove off to his left and He fired off a shot from his ShortGun directly at the beast.

He grabs up the young women from the back of her sweater and yells, “Run!” and starts running down the street. He holsters the warm weapon back into the thigh holster and reaches into his coat and it begins to make gentle chiming noises.

The young women holds her ribs while she runs, “Where are we going?” She looks back over her shoulder for a second to ensure they aren’t being followed. “I think you got him. What did you hit him with?”

“It’s was coin shot. It’ll disrupt the enchantments that bind with the wolf demon or whatever that was. We need to head downtown. The locket is being used as a key for some type of demon gangster-lord.” He begins to slow down and turns toward a door. He removes a keychain with several key on it and it makes an almost musical chime. He sorts through the keys and inserts a green key into the door and a green blue aura illuminates the door.

“What does this one do?” She asks, a little hesitantly.

“It will heal your broken ribs. I’m guessing he snuck up on you and hit you?” He asked, eyeing her side as he opens the door and gesturing that she walk through.

“Yeah, I wasn’t paying attention and he looked like a big guy anyways. Everyone always smells dead anyways, so I can’t tell that ways…” She walks through the door…

…And he follows her into plain white room and closes the door behind them. The green key begins to fall apart as the door closes. He removes a black key and inserts it into the now black door behind them. “Do you feel better now?”

“I feel weird, but definitely not like I have a broken rib.” She twists and turns and breaths in deeply.

He opens the door and motions that she walks out in front of him. They walk out onto a quiet ally and behind them is a large church, surrounded by large buildings.

3. End

“Justiciars, what a surprise!” As the two walk out onto the street a voice speaks out behind them on seemingly coming from the large church behind them.

He turns around and a look of shock crosses his face and he drops to one knee. The young women follows right behind him. “Saint Talmanes, I’m sorry if we’ve disturbed you.” They both perform the mark of the cross and continue to keep their heads bowed.

The older man gently laugh and gestures for them both to rise. “Please, get up. If I’m not mistaken you are one of the Necromancers of Michael’s Justicar’s and this is the Nephilim that everyone has heard so much about.” The Saint takes both the young women’s hands in his and raises her to standing while looking her in her eyes, “it is a pleasure to meet you both!”

The Necromancer, a little shaken, returns the pleasantries, “I’m sorry Saint Talmanes, but we are on official business of the Justicar’s office and must be headed downtown.” The urgency is apparent in his voice, but also the respect for the older man’s office.

Saint Talmanes removes his eyes from the young lady, who also looks away with a slight blush, almost ashamedly. “But of course you are. You must also be able to read halo’s to so readily know who I am. Very impressive. You must be no ordinary necromancer than, but THE Necromancer spoken of so… highly.” Saint Talmanes reaches inside of his the folds within his red robes, apparently digging through pockets. “I see that you’ve come through some of my waygates.” He hands The Necromancer another set of archaic keys. “Here is another set, as it would appear you may have exhausted that previous set you had.”

“I did, thank you.” He takes the keys while rising to his feet. “But, we really must be going.”

The Saint looks them both over, once again. “I have a key there to my own offices. Please come see me when you are done with you errands.”

And with that, they both bowed deeply and began moving quickly down the street.