The sun began to move, and the sky became streaked with red and orange. Heather walked over the last hill to see the metal gates of the graveyard below.
“Are you sure you don't want to go to the city?” Frank asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.
“Yes, I am sure, now stop asking!” Heather groaned. She looked away from her panel, unable to think about all the choices she had to make. “This is so hard. How am I supposed to know what I want to play?”
“Try something out,” Frank suggested.
“Yeah, you can change your class until you reach the third level. You can change your race until you reach the fifth level.”
“I can?” Heather asked with an arching brow. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?”
“You didn’t ask,” he replied.
“You knew I was struggling to make up my mind!” she shouted. “I thought I had to make all the right choices, or I was stuck!”
“Well, now you know,” he shrugged. “So what do you want to try out?”
She looked back at the glowing screen and smiled. “So I can be anything I want for a little bit.”
She tapped away, making her choices, and smiled as the screen showed her selections. She went to the body sliders next and made a few “adjustments.”
“A little more up there,” she said to herself. “A little thinner here, some green eyes. Oh! I can make them glow!”
“What are you picking?” Frank pried as they reached the gates.
“You will see in a minute,” she replied.
Frank sighed and walked into the graveyard as coils of mist started to form over the ground.
“I suppose you can sleep in the crypt. That way the skeletons won’t bother you,” he mumbled.
“Can't I build a house or something?” she asked.
“In the graveyard?”
Heather shrugged. “It can be a spooky house. I will put a pumpkin on the doorstep or something.”
“This isn't Halloween!” he protested as she went back to her screen.
“Hmm, I always wanted to be tall.”
She finished her picks and held the panel out to admire the image it showed.
“So how do I become this?” Heather asked, anxious to try on her new self.
“There should be a submit button,” Frank said. “There was one in the collection center when I designed my character.”
Heather studied the screen a moment and smiled at the bright blue button. With a chill of excitement, she pressed it.
A cloud of green smoke engulfed her but quickly faded away, revealing her new form. She twisted every which way to look at herself and practically danced with glee.
“What do you think?” she asked.
Frank looked her up and down. She was now over seven feet tall with long green hair and golden skin. Two thin silver antenna sprang from her head that ended in delicate glowing tips. Her emerald green eyes were unnaturally large and shimmered with an inner light. Her face was delicate with silver lips and blue spots on her cheeks. She was thin as a rail but strangely well endowed in the chest. Her legs were long and slender, and she now stood barefoot, floating an inch off the ground. She wore a gown that could only be described as flower petals. The petals were woven into a mosaic of white blue, and green.
“What on earth is that?” Frank asked.
“It’s a Golden sprite,” Heather said.
“Yes,” Heather said with a concerned glance. “Is that bad?”
“You picked a nature spirit. A spirit of growth and rebirth to live in a graveyard?”
“It doesn't have to be so graveyardy. Look what I can do,” Heather said as she bent over. She cupped her hands and blew into them, creating a swirl of glittering green light. It blew out over the nearest graves and settled on them. Instantly vines began to grow over the stones, and they rapidly budded with brightly colored flowers. Heather clapped her hands and bounced in the air at the effect.
“What are you doing?” Frank moaned. “This is a graveyard, not a garden!”
“Can’t it be both?” Heather asked.
“Graveyards are supposed to be dark and spooky,” he protested. “You're making everything all green and glittery.”
“I am not!” she protested. “I only changed a few graves.”
“Look under your feet!” he yelled with a pointed finger.
Heather looked down to see the grass below her feet had grown to tickle her soles. There were little blue flowers that sparkled in the evening light. She hovered away a little to see she left a trail of blue sparkles where she went. Wherever the sparkles settled the plants below grew vigorously.
“Oh,” she said with a downcast face. “But this race is so pretty!”
“What class did you pick with it?” Frank asked.
“Flower singer,” she replied.
“What is a flower singer
“I can make plants dance and bloom flowers. I can attract songbirds and butterflies and grow food.”
“In a graveyard,” Frank repeated.
“What’s wrong with that?” she asked. “I have seen lot’s of flowers in graveyards!”
“This is a haunted graveyard full of undead, and you want to add butterflies to it?”
“Fine!” she quipped. “I will pick a class that allows me to build a garden and make one on the hill.” She threw her chin in the air as if she had defeated him.
Frank sighed and put a hand over his face. “Just don’t make it right up against my fence.”
“You could use some flowers, this place stinks,” she said. “It smells like ah… Like umm…”
“Like a graveyard?” he filled in for her.
“Whatever!” she growled with a frustrated wave. “I am going to build a flower house and sing to the birds.”
“Can you sing?” he asked.
“Of course I can,” she said with a haughty tone. “I have just never tried to before.”
Frank shook his head and looked to the sky. “Well, you either need to build your flower house or come down into the tunnels.”
“I don’t know how to build things yet,” she protested.
“Then you need to come inside,” he sighed.
Frank led the way to a mausoleum and casually walked through the narrow doorway. Heather, however, had a problem.
She frowned as she realized she was now too tall for the doorway. She found it difficult to bend over while floating. She had to settle on the ground so that she could squat under the door. Once inside the cramped space, she found it even more challenging to navigate the stairs. Her long slender body meant her face would be scraping on the stone above as she walked down. She had to climb down them like a ladder until she reached the bottom.
Frank watched her struggle her way down, shaking his head the whole way.
“You don’t fit in the tunnels,” he said.
“Why did you make them so small?” Heather protested.
“I made them for human-sized people. I didn't want giants coming down here. You look more like you belong in the trees.”
“I can walk on the leaves of trees like they are solid ground,” she said.
“The trees in the graveyard don’t have any leaves,” he pointed out.
She tried to stand and found that the ceilings here were higher, but her antennae scraped against them. Every time she moved her head, she caused a shower of dirt and dust from above that made her sneeze.
“It’s dirty in here!” she cried as more dirt fell in her eyes.
“Just pick something else,” Frank suggested. “Something that fits in the tunnels.”
“But I like this!” she cried.
“I bet there is a way to save your settings. Save it and try something smaller that fits in the tunnels.”
She sniffed and lifted her panel and began to make choices.
“I am going to go check the other rooms while you pick,” he said. “I want to make sure nobody has been here.”
She looked up from the panel in alarm. “Will I be safe?”
He nodded. “The skeletons don’t come down here. You will be fine so long as you stay in the tunnels.”
She nodded, producing a hail of dirt as he wandered off, shaking his head and mumbling to himself.
Heather blinked the dust from her eyes and stared at the panel. “I wonder what I should be?”
She took a few minutes to flip through the choices and returned to one that made her chew on a lower lip. “What harm is there in trying it?” she giggled. “It’s not like I have to feed tonight.”
She eagerly set about making her choices giggling the whole way. With a press of the submit button, she was engulfed in a cloud of dark smoke.
“Now this feels strange,” she said as she looked at herself. “Is this the only clothing option?” She went back to her panel and flipped through the various states of naked she could pick.
“What are you doing?” Frank called.
She practically dropped the panel to see him standing in the archway of the tunnel.
“Don’t look at me!” she shouted and used the panel to cover her chest.
“Is that a succubus?”
“Get out of here!” she shouted as her face went redder than her skin already was.
“I like the tail.”
“Out!” she shouted as loudly as she could while pointing for the hallway.
Frank threw up his hands and went back down the tunnel.
“Don’t come back until I call you!”
She quickly went back to her panel and picked anything that wasn't what she currently was. In a flash of smoke, she sighed with contentment to see her chest was fully covered again. With a moment to settle her herself and let her embarrassment pass, she called for Frank.
“You can come back now,” she said.
His head poked from around the archway. “You're dressed now?”
“I was dressed before,” she said.
“Some of the skeletons have more clothing on their belts than you had on your whole body.”
“I was just trying it out, I wasn’t going to pick it,” she said embarrassed. “I thought you said you were going to check the other rooms?”
“I did, my graveyard isn’t very big. There are only two more rooms.”
She let out a frustrated groan and folded her arms over the panel.
Frank walked into the room and scratched at his head with a long finger. “Are you going to pick this?”
“What’s wrong with this?” Heather asked.
“You look like a horse.”
Heather looked down at herself and saw her chest and two arms, but she noticed her feet were two black hooves. With a jump, she started to look around to see she had two more legs at the end of a long furry body.
“I think that’s a centaur.”
“EEEEEE!” she screamed as she fumbled with the panel.
She raced through her saved characters and clicked the Golden sprite again. In a poof, her head hit the ceiling in a shower of dust and dirt.
“I hate this world!” she cried.
“Why don't you sit down and take your time,” he suggested. “If you like this you can go outside tomorrow and build something you will fit inside.”
“I just wanted to look pretty,” she said.
“Everybody does,” Frank sighed and walked to the stairs. He sat down on a step and folded his legs.
She realized her remark wounded him. He was alone and lonely because he chose a monster class that wasn’t pretty enough to live in the city. He was an outcast in a world designed to be a social hub.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I keep saying things that are mean.”
“You want to play something pretty. That isn't a crime.”
She went to step forward and scraped her head on the ceiling. In frustration, she glared at the panel and pushed the reset button. In a puff, she was herself again and never so grateful to be just who she was.
“Frank, even if I pick something pretty I will build nearby so we can be friends,” she said.
“You don’t have to,” he sighed.
“No, I don't, but I want to,” she insisted. “You're a nice guy, and you helped me get my panel back. I don't like it that other people mistreat you.”
“It would be ok if there were more monster players. The world is so unbalanced with the hero races,” he said. “It would be more fun if the heroes had a challenge for a change.”
She walked closer to the stairs and looked around the featureless stone room.
“Why is it so empty in here?”
“I haven’ t spent any points on dungeon features. I was saving up for the dungeon heart.”
She still wasn't sure what that was, but she was beginning to understand some things.
“So, what level are you?”
“I’m level five,” he replied with sunken shoulders.
She had no idea if that was good or bad, but his body language suggested the latter.
“So how long until you can get a dungeon heart?”
“Ten more levels,” he sighed. “I am leveling up so slowly.”
“Because nobody comes out here,” Heather surmised.
He nodded and looked away. “If I had a bigger graveyard, it would attract people. But I can't get bigger unless people come.”
She saw the problem and pondered a solution. “What if I went to the city and told people about a treasure hidden here? They might come looking for it.”
Frank shrugged. “Maybe.”
“What would help you the most?” Heather asked.
“More levels,” he said with a glance at her.
She paced about tapping at her chin with a finger. “What if we put up a sign?”
“Yeah, a sign that says adventure here, or haunted graveyard this way,” she suggested.
He shrugged, and the dismissive gesture made her angry.
“If what you need are people to adventure here, then you need to think of a way to bring them here.”
“I should have made my graveyard on the path instead of on the other side of the hill,” he said. “Then, more people would see it.”
She looked at him with a curious expression. “Why not make the path come here?”
“How?” Frank asked.
Heather smiled. “I think I can help you with that.” She looked down at her panel and smiled. “I think I can help with all of it.”
Support "Heather the Necromancer"
- Eastern United States- Thats all your getting.
- newbie writer, wise old story teller.
I am a fan of fantasy and romance stories. I have been writing from a very early age and love to tell stories. I lack a good education in grammar however and I have been struggling to teach myself.
I love dragons and have for years been working on a story where they featured heavily. This is the culmination of that work. I hope it measures up to some kind of standard and that you the reader deeply enjoy it.
I have no awards to brag about. I have no education to brag about. I haven’t written any award-winning books or articles in major publications. I am just an obscure storyteller shouting his story from the void in the hopes that somebody will hear it.
Thank you so much for reading my story. Sharing what I have and finding a way to focus on it for the future is all I ever wanted to do.