06-10-2006, 10:18 PM
In my work on RPC40 North Guardtower, the NPC writes two eulogies for his dead dogs (I did not copy them here because they are very small additions.) One idea from a eulogy I found very funny. One of the dogs, Needly, stole a bone from a Lich. The lich came for his bone one day. The NPC does not describe the encounter or what happened. However, we discover the bone was the lich's arm. Just for fun, I'd like to contribute a bit of literature to the forum and hopefully someone will actually put it into a book or journal in ST:
*** BEGIN BOOK***
My After-Life: A Lich Unarmed
by Havidius the Lich (date unknown)
Allow me to begin by addressing your opinions of Lich and our role in the world. Yes, we are evil. We will likely kill you on sight and consume your soul for magical study.
I am Havidius. Prior to embarking on the long journey toward becoming a Lich, I was an Imperial Battlemage and a damn good one.
Now, I am an undead Lich. So, to dispell (figuratively, of course) a long-standing myth, Lich are not mindless creatures. Rather, we are typically quite clever.
Widely, heroes have sought Lich for battle, as we tend to possess magical artifacts and valuable worldly items. While an enjoyable past-time for the hero, I can personally attest that the practice is very disturbing to the Lich.
It has seemed over the centuries that every time I come close to acheiving a significant necromantic discovery, a hero barges in (or a group of heroes) and begins hacking away at my summoned guardians or unloading fire spells upon them. Defeating well-armed and well-trained opponents is time-consuming and distracts me from my work.
Contrary to your suspions, this story is not about a hero, necessarily. Well, that is to say, not your typical hero. Some time ago, I was in the process of developing a significant spell which caused my touch to whither a live being. Precisely, my intent was to cause live beings to age 20 years with each touch I placed upon them.
As I studied the requirements for this spell's success, I realized that one essential element was that I enchant my left arm utilizing 100 Grand Souls and 100 Black Souls. I'll not discuss the specifics for the spell's creation. The enchantment of my left arm was essential and is elemental in this story that is why it is mentioned.
Eventually, the enchantment process required that I detach my left arm and soak it in a pool of freshly spilled Argonian blood. Typically, I would simply wait for an Argonian hero to come die at my feet, but not this time. I was anxious to continue the process.
So, I hunted an Argonian farmer and killed him slowly in order that he might shed a lot of blood. Eventually, there was a sufficient quantity of blood so I magically detached my arm and dropped it to soak in the pool of blood at the Argonian's feet.
Timing is everything in life. It is also important to the undead. At that very moment, a group of Imperial Horsemen and four Battlemage's arrived. Well, I killed them, of course. I was bothered that they had interrupted my work, so I spent some time trapping their souls to torture and manipulate later.
In my distraction, I had missed a very important detail. The Imperial Guard were not alone. In the chaos of battle, I had failed to notice a guard dog with them. As I floated back to the pool of blood, I found my arm had been taken!
I began casting spells to divine the thief's location. Immediately, I discovered that the culprit had escaped and was trotting toward Reich Parkeep. The little dog was very clever, because fast as I flew I could not seem to find or catch it.
It was around midnight that I found the Guardtower in Reich Parkeep where the dog had finally stopped. I entered and greeted the guard inside. He gave his Nord name, Tarn Bapley. I began to consume his soul and reclaim my arm.
Before I could complete my spell, I was summoned! In my haste to recover my arm, I had errantly dropped my magical defenses. Like I said, timing is everything! Unfortunately, I was summoned right into the thick of a battle. Before I could react (as being summoned into a battle is disconcerting), another wizard cast some sort of stasis spell on me. As a result, I lost the link to my previous location and to the necromancer who summoned me.
The battle's outcome is unimportant. What is important is that I have been forced into servitude and have thusfar been unable to break my bondage. My master's cruelty has extended to limiting my access to magic. He really must be quite powerful.
It is very bothersome to acheive immortality only to spend it in service to another. All this aside, my master has permitted me to write the story of how I came into his service and now it is written.
Farewell. Let this pleading accompany you as you depart these pages. Should you come upon a one-armed Lich, seek out his master and kill him. Either destroy my master or me, but do not leave me to suffer an eternity as I am. Oblivion would be a welcome change.
***END OF BOOK***
*** BEGIN BOOK***
My After-Life: A Lich Unarmed
by Havidius the Lich (date unknown)
Allow me to begin by addressing your opinions of Lich and our role in the world. Yes, we are evil. We will likely kill you on sight and consume your soul for magical study.
I am Havidius. Prior to embarking on the long journey toward becoming a Lich, I was an Imperial Battlemage and a damn good one.
Now, I am an undead Lich. So, to dispell (figuratively, of course) a long-standing myth, Lich are not mindless creatures. Rather, we are typically quite clever.
Widely, heroes have sought Lich for battle, as we tend to possess magical artifacts and valuable worldly items. While an enjoyable past-time for the hero, I can personally attest that the practice is very disturbing to the Lich.
It has seemed over the centuries that every time I come close to acheiving a significant necromantic discovery, a hero barges in (or a group of heroes) and begins hacking away at my summoned guardians or unloading fire spells upon them. Defeating well-armed and well-trained opponents is time-consuming and distracts me from my work.
Contrary to your suspions, this story is not about a hero, necessarily. Well, that is to say, not your typical hero. Some time ago, I was in the process of developing a significant spell which caused my touch to whither a live being. Precisely, my intent was to cause live beings to age 20 years with each touch I placed upon them.
As I studied the requirements for this spell's success, I realized that one essential element was that I enchant my left arm utilizing 100 Grand Souls and 100 Black Souls. I'll not discuss the specifics for the spell's creation. The enchantment of my left arm was essential and is elemental in this story that is why it is mentioned.
Eventually, the enchantment process required that I detach my left arm and soak it in a pool of freshly spilled Argonian blood. Typically, I would simply wait for an Argonian hero to come die at my feet, but not this time. I was anxious to continue the process.
So, I hunted an Argonian farmer and killed him slowly in order that he might shed a lot of blood. Eventually, there was a sufficient quantity of blood so I magically detached my arm and dropped it to soak in the pool of blood at the Argonian's feet.
Timing is everything in life. It is also important to the undead. At that very moment, a group of Imperial Horsemen and four Battlemage's arrived. Well, I killed them, of course. I was bothered that they had interrupted my work, so I spent some time trapping their souls to torture and manipulate later.
In my distraction, I had missed a very important detail. The Imperial Guard were not alone. In the chaos of battle, I had failed to notice a guard dog with them. As I floated back to the pool of blood, I found my arm had been taken!
I began casting spells to divine the thief's location. Immediately, I discovered that the culprit had escaped and was trotting toward Reich Parkeep. The little dog was very clever, because fast as I flew I could not seem to find or catch it.
It was around midnight that I found the Guardtower in Reich Parkeep where the dog had finally stopped. I entered and greeted the guard inside. He gave his Nord name, Tarn Bapley. I began to consume his soul and reclaim my arm.
Before I could complete my spell, I was summoned! In my haste to recover my arm, I had errantly dropped my magical defenses. Like I said, timing is everything! Unfortunately, I was summoned right into the thick of a battle. Before I could react (as being summoned into a battle is disconcerting), another wizard cast some sort of stasis spell on me. As a result, I lost the link to my previous location and to the necromancer who summoned me.
The battle's outcome is unimportant. What is important is that I have been forced into servitude and have thusfar been unable to break my bondage. My master's cruelty has extended to limiting my access to magic. He really must be quite powerful.
It is very bothersome to acheive immortality only to spend it in service to another. All this aside, my master has permitted me to write the story of how I came into his service and now it is written.
Farewell. Let this pleading accompany you as you depart these pages. Should you come upon a one-armed Lich, seek out his master and kill him. Either destroy my master or me, but do not leave me to suffer an eternity as I am. Oblivion would be a welcome change.
***END OF BOOK***
) I really appreciate the feedback.
