LARP It Up

A cool breeze passed gently through Aleister's open window causing his curtains to billow out briefly, before returning to stillness.

      Inside his modest house in a small Wisconsin suburb, all of the lights had been turned off and all of the doors locked up tight.

     Inside of his dimly candlelit bedroom, Aleister was bent over in his black cloak working with some strange materials inside a space that he had cleared out. 

     'Draw the final line of the pentagram with salt inside the circle…, place the candle surrounded by offerings in the center of the pentagram..., aaaannd now for the incantation…'

     Aleister stood up, raised his hands into the air as if begging for heavenly alms, lifted his face to the sky/ceiling, and recited, in a low and guttural voice. "Sanguis vitam est! Sacrificium est sanguis! Sanguinis fortunam! Sanguis est judicium!" (Blood is life! Blood is sacrifice! Blood is fortune! Blood is justice!)

     Although his rational mind told him it was only a coincidence, at the moment his incantation ended an unusually powerful breeze blew through his open window blowing out all of his candles and causing his cloak to flutter about wildly.

     Aleister began grinning and chuckling madly at this turn of events, as if this ritual had just granted him some magnificent power.

     Aleister had worked hard to acquire this house, for the sole purpose of being able to LARP discreetly to his heart's content.

     It could be quite tiresome at times having to deal with nosy judgey people who are aided and abetted by paper thin apartment walls and an entirely too common practice of congregating and gossiping in the hallways, as if they were still in high school. He didn't particularly mind the judgey aspect so much anymore but, whenever people would actively use their nosiness to refine their judginess and use their judginess to fuel their gossipiness and then drive their gossipiness around in his face everyday, it could become quite burdensome.

     Aleister and his friends had always been pretty big into LARPing and, ever since he had purchased his house, his place had become their go to venue for anything that didn't require a lot of space.

    Sometimes, of course, Aleister just liked to enjoy a bit of solo LARPing. A little dark ritual here a little potion making (a.k.a. dress up cooking/smoothie making) there, nothing too complicated. 

     His bedroom, having only one window that wasn't easily visible from other streets or houses, was an ideal location for his dark rituals. 

     Aleister was, although unusual in some people's eyes, a relatively simple twenty eight year old software engineer. He didn't like to take life or himself too seriously. He much preferred to live his life the way he wanted for as much time as he could and leave others to deal with their own problems. 

     After realizing that the wind had died down and wasn't coming back, he righted himself, sighed in contentment, and was about to step out of the ritual circle when suddenly…

Schwip!

     Aleister's bedroom was completely still. The light's still out. His window curtain fluttering ever so slightly in the calm midnight breeze. The stray candles cold and flameless...and a LARPER's ritual circle partially covered over by black empty cloak. 

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     Brahmet was ecstatic! His life's ambition was so close to fruition, he could almost taste the sweet delectable juices of personal accomplishment in his mouth as he stared longingly at the ritual circle in front of him.

     The power that this transformation could bring him made his heart beat increase rapidly just at the thought of having finally completed the necessary preparations. 

     Brahmet gave voice to his self validating thoughts, "Certainly there are those who view the attempted ascension to lichhood as a madman's endeavor. And perhaps I am mad after all! HA! What does it even matter to one such as I what they might label me? Power, whether mad or sane, is unquestionable and once I've ascended I'll show them all how wrong they were to shun me! HAHAHA! AHHHHAHAHAHA!"

     Deep inside the central chamber of Draedihm Crypt, the millennium old coffins, the newly created undead, the stale pools of water within the Crypt's Embalming Chamber, and the sturdy yet ancient stone walls trembled slightly at the reverberations of a madman's hysterical laughter echoing throughout the musty corridors.

     Shortly after having finished laughing at the self satisfying thoughts he had presented himself, Brahmet made his way into a connecting chamber.

     There he gathered the Moonlight Moss, the Tainted Water, and the Bone Powder. Stashing these ingredients carefully inside of a small crate, he hefted the crate upon his shoulders, exited the Central Chamber down a flight of stairs, and entered into the dungeons that he had personally dug out himself.

     Brahmet had spared no effort in making sure that his ascension would go as smoothly as possible. He had spent years making sure that every little detail was in order. 

     Ascending to lich hood was incredibly dangerous, not only because of the likelihood of failure during the ritual but also because the benefits were not immediate. The ritual would typically leave the newly born lich in a pitiful and vulnerable state. As such, it was of utmost importance that any Necromancer attempting this ritual create as many undead as possible beforehand.

     Aside from massive magical formations and flashy barriers that would probably just end up drawing everyone's attention, saving up materials and magic for the creation of masses of undead was the most subtle and effective way to ensure one's safety post-ritual. Assuming, of course, that one had already acquired an acceptably discrete location to carry out both the creations and the ritual.

     Brahmet trudged down the last few steps, made his way over to an entirely different and much less complex ritual circle, and began placing the ingredients in their designated positions.

     After prepping the ritual circle, Brahmet walked to one of the nearby holding cells and extracted one of his sedated prisoners. Dragging his offering over to the ritual circle, Brahmet struggled for a few awkward seconds at placing the man properly into position.

     Once he had double checked everything and was certain there would be no hang ups once he started, Brahmet reached within himself and brought his magic out. He slowly guided his magic into the Moonlit Moss causing it to rise a few inches out of the bowl.

     His magic quickly invaded the Moonlight Moss's internals causing its essence to be flushed out into the bowl.

     Quickly discarding the Moonlit Moss's leafage, he carefully but swiftly poured the Moonlit Moss Essence into the man's mouth.

    While he was completing this first step, he was simultaneously infusing his magic into the Bone Powder. Brahmet continued the infusion of his magic into the Bone Powder as he began pouring the Tainted Water liberally over each of the sedated man's limbs, torso, and head.

     Once the Tainted Water was applied, there was no more time for infusion he had to go with what he had accomplished so far. He immediately began scattering the Bone Powder over the man's body.

     All of this occurred within the space of ten seconds and once the Bone Powder was sufficiently applied. Brahmet immediately shifted the entirety of his focus on to the geometric patterns on the ground beneath his sacrifice.

     Running his magic swiftly but evenly through those patterns, they soon came to life with an eerie green glow. The magic of the ritual was now in motion and all Brahmet needed to do was to maintain the supply of magic.

     An unnatural breeze began shifting the dust, dirt, and mold on the ground beneath the sacrifice as one could now see a slight arch in the man's back.

     From the apex of that arch, it seemed as though a force was applied to it causing the sacrifice to jerk upwards as the unnatural breeze suddenly became a stout wind. With this jerk there also appeared a soft green glow that flowed vigorously beneath the man's skin.

     The unnatural wind continued to accelerate, as the sacrifice was lifted even further off of the ground. Its feet, however, remained on the ground as its upper body continued to rise. The man's skin quickly became deathly pale and began to lose its natural elasticity.

     The unnatural wind was now reaching its apex, as the inclined sacrifice was raised and tilted even further, until its feet were flat against the ground. The sacrifice now had skin that showed obvious signs of decay and a hollow sunken face. 

     The sacrifice's head finally fell forward as its shoulders came forward and were stooped over. 

     "AHHHH!" Brahmet screamed like a little girl. 

     The newly created Zombie's eyes suddenly popped open and stared directly at him. As the unnatural winds died down and Brahmet came out of his trance like focus on the ritual, he opened his eyes only to see his newly created Zombie staring into his soul.

     Upon witnessing this unexpected scene he almost pissed himself but fortunately he maintained his… well at least he didn't piss himself.

     This wasn't the first time this had happened. The transformation of a living being into a Zombie wasn't a pleasant experience. It wasn't unheard of for even sedated subjects to awaken halfway through screaming in agony.

     Brahmet consoled himself with the excuse that he was simply taken off guard, since he had never experienced a Zombie with eyes filled with a human like awareness immediately after a ritual. After all if the sacrifice woke up at all it was always during the ritual not afterwards. 

     "Yes, yes, I definitely let myself get carried away. In my temporary state of startlement, I imagined that those eyes held more awareness than they actually did. Of course, that's the most logical explanation. Nothing to worry about! Now, on to the next one!"

     Tomorrow would be the day of Brahmet's ascension, he would finish off the last of his creations tonight, get a good night's sleep, ascend into his glorious new lich body in the morning, and then settle in until his body and soul had time to adjust to their newly acquired powers.

     Brahmet continued to create these very weak type of Zombies for several hours, until all his materials were spent.

     This particular type of Zombie was actually completely useless as a Zombie but then they were meant to be that way. There were typically two reasons to create such Zombies. The first being the most widely spread, was the creation of Mort Flesh. These pathetically fragile Zombies couldn't even maintain their Zombie status, as their flesh would begin falling off of their bones in large chunks only minutes after their creation.

     Mort Flesh, or more simply Zombie Flesh, was a valuable Alchemy ingredient on nearly every continent and Forengal was no exception.

     This, of course, led to the second most common use for these pitiful Zombie creations. 

     The creation of Skeleton Warriors!     

     Once all of the Zombie's flesh was either removed or simply fell off, the skeleton underneath would still be a completely functional undead and would actually be faster and more agile than a Zombie.

     It was for this purpose that Brahmet had made these last few creations. The Crypt was nearly overflowing with various undead that he had created over the years and, now with these last few creations in the bag, he was finally ready to hit the ole burial cloth.

     Lying down, in a makeshift coffin-bed made from various types of cloths, Brahmet quickly and eagerly drifted off to dreamland.

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     'What the shit? What the hell's going on here?' Aleister thought, as soon as his vision went black and he lost all sensation. Except for one sensation that made him feel as though his entire body were being sucked painlessly through straw at lightspeed, he was completely separated from all the senses that he had taken for granted over the years.

     'Fuck! This isn't good! I don't even know what this is but it can't be good! Dammit! What the hell is happening to me!? Okay, okay, okay...I...I just need...I just need to relax, right? I just need to calm down and try and analyze the situation. Okay, alright, let's try that. Calm. Calm. Don't panic. Don't panic. Just stay calm.' Aleister continued to coach himself through this unexpected and tumultuous predicament.

     This task was much harder than he would have imagined, since the only methods he was aware of to calm one's self usually involved breathing or some other sense or ability that he no longer had access to. Every time he would think about the fact that he could no longer breathe, the panic would set in again.

     It took him who knows how long to finally calm himself but eventually he came to terms with the fact that the only thing he could feel was this constant stretching and pulling.

     After finally calming himself, he began the task of thinking over everything that had happened, since the start of his ritual all the way up until this moment.

     However, before he could even gather all of his memories for analysis, he suddenly felt a connection with his eyelids and instinctively opened them. What he saw completely threw him for a loop! A gaunt and pale middle aged man with black balding hair. Dirty brown eyes, a large crooked nose, and freakishly large ears adorned his unspeakably ugly face.

     The man had a  hunched back and was wearing what looked like some type of medieval clothing. The type of robe you would expect some fantasy wizard Wizard to wear.

     There weren't many other details he could make out. Before he could get more than a vague impression of some type of cemetery or crypt given off by some of the infrastructure he saw, his connection to his eyelids began to slip.

     He felt as though his body were pudding sliding down the edge of a bowl. Less than three seconds after he opened his eyes, his vision was lost again and this new pudding sensation was quickly taking over.

     It wasn't too long, however, before the sliding stopped and he just felt like a spoonful of pudding sitting on the floor.

…

…

…

     He continued to just sit there in his pudding like state, waiting to see if some other wacky fate might befall him. Luckily, nothing else seemed to be books, for the moment.

     'Alright! Well, if that's all of that nonsense, it's time to try and figure out what the absolute fuck all this shit is about?!'