Sol'ginok

          Not everyone cares if you are dead. Particularly if you have outlived all your family members that you have not exterminated and have no friends, not counting the animated dead. I have not kept track of the centuries.
          I am not convinced I am to blame for most of this, though I have always done things my way, being outside the laws of man and nature, and never tolerated much of the living. It goes with the territory of being a Necromancing Lich Wizard.
          I began as a Cleric. Initially, I was a member of a small group of adventurers trying to make a name for themselves and build their reputation. On the other hand, I was gathering precious artifacts and relics to further my agenda.
          How and why I began as a Cleric no longer matters. What does is how I got here.
          The decisive battle where it all changed was when Qhok'mudin, a Lich Necromancer, was gloating, taking its time because it knew we could not withstand another Agonizing Mind Blast. All the warriors were down, the archer unconscious. I was the only one standing. To signify my insignificance, the Lich didn't bother looking in my direction; it stayed focused on the warriors.
          All my healing spells and potions were gone. I readied my last three offensive spells, each only requiring a Word to release.
          My first release was Distortion Bolt. When it works properly, it strikes any undead with three times the strength it would a living target. The bolt creates positive energy to disrupt the negative energy of the Undead.
          A flash of light approximately twenty-five yards from the Lich lights up mid-air as the bolt hits an invisible wall and veers to the left, striking a pile of pottery and bits of treasure.
          Before the Lich could respond and cast its spell, I uttered the second Word of Power and released a Blast of Elemental Fire. The explosive nature of the magic responded with a continuous column of lava pouring from ceiling to floor for five minutes onto the Lich.
          When the magical fire died, the Lich barely stood and began climbing over the rubble where the Distortion Bolt landed. It cursed while rummaging through the ruins, repeating, "You broke it, you broke it." At the same time, throwing treasure and rubble away.
          I was out of offensive spells except for Inflict Wounds, which I would need to be within melee range of the Lich to use. Out of potions, scrolls, time, and alternatives, I rushed the Lich while it was busy digging for something.
         Within striking distance, I aimed for its head and crown. I knew the crown was a source of some of its minor magic because I had seen smaller fireballs shoot out of it during the battle with the warriors and the archer. In the past, I had heard legends where many Lich keep several spells ready in their crowns, or something similar on their head, so they do not have to memorize as much or save space in their memory, free for more complex spells.
         My aim was exact, and force was sufficient to send the crown far enough away that the Lich could not readily grab it from the floor. The Lich had its left eye socket smashed, the left cheekbone was gone, and the left mandible was dislocated and hanging off the skull.
         The Lich grabbed me by my tunic and pulled me off the ground. It started speaking; however, I could not understand what it was saying. It could have been a language the Lich spoke before it died, whenever that was. I didn't know. What I did know was that it had me where I wanted to be. I reached out, placed my hand on its chest, and said my last Power Word.
         A storm made up of sheets of roaring flames appears out of nowhere. Startled by the sudden heat and flame, the Lich dropped me. I instantly wrapped my cloak around me for protection from the storm. My Mind is racing as I am uncertain what my next course of action will be if the Lich is still here. The storm was localized so that it could have simply moved and not received any damage.
         Stand, filth.
         That was projected directly into my Mind. I didn't know it could or how it could do that.
         I am Qhok'mudin, your master.
         "No, you are a Lich, and we are here to stop you because you have been terrorizing the countryside with your undead warriors, searching for magical items and killing those who got in your way. We have been following your minion's trail back to you."
         So, you are the insects getting in my way of gathering the information I seek.
         "You need to stop trying to possess my Mind. I am highly educated in possession and how to counter it. I am wearing several Holy talismans against all curses and possessions. The curtain of fire you just experienced? For protection, that also burnt a Holy Symbol into the floor beneath us."
         You have taken my treasure away. You have taken my warriors away. You have taken my privacy away. And you, specifically, have even taken my life away.
         "Your life? You are standing, rather floating, in front of me. We came here to imprison you within these caverns and magically seal them so you could never leave."
         What? You don't even know what you have done? That is unbelievable. You are a pitiful excuse of a Cleric, and you defeated me by accident.
         "What are you talking about? I hit you with enough firepower to cause severe damage to you, and I am ready to do more." To prove my point, I raised my shield and mace and was about to strike it again. Before I could swing my mace down, the Lich waved its hand neglectedly, and I flew across the room, where I landed, broke three ribs, and bruised my shoulder.
         You are tenacious, resilient, and headstrong. I see within you a constant struggle to do what you wish to do compared to what you feel you must. Oh, yes. That is a battle within you. A terrible struggle, indeed. It has festered for many, many years. You have much resentment. You are genuinely motivated by your desires and goals, but your Code of Conduct binds you as a Cleric. If you were to behave as you felt, others would call you selfish and manipulative and willing to betray your allies or break the law if it served your interest. However, that is their own opinion as an outsider looking in. Being yourself will make you unpredictable and more challenging to align with, as you may act randomly and unpredictably by others who do not know you. Most importantly, you would be open to new challenges and experiences with undreamt rewards.
         "Why are you doing this? Where are you getting this information?"
         I am merely trying to set you free.
          "Why are you pretending to help me? There is no reason I should trust you. You are evil incarnate."
         You're right. I am. I needed to get you out on the protection circle to finish the spell I was casting on you. Don't worry. I will explain it all when you wake up.
         I am trying to remember what exactly happened at this time. There was a thunderous popping noise, extreme heat around my head, and nothing. I had these strange scenes flash in my head. Some of them didn't make sense. One thing I do clearly remember is that dead creatures were preparing me for burial. The strangest part was that I had several mystical glyphs tattooed on my face, hands, feet, torso, and back. The last scene I remember before waking up was being placed into an amulet and then into a jar for safekeeping.
         I woke up, or instead, became aware of my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was lying on a cold piece of stone. I was viewing the ceiling and seeing two different colors. My left eye saw it in blue, and my right saw it in red. When I lifted my hand to feel what was covering my face, I saw a skeletal hand covered with taunt dead skin. The fingers of each hand had rings with rubies, sapphires, diamonds, and opals of varying sizes. I at once sat up and noticed the rest of my body covered with armor I had never seen before. When I hurriedly stood up, this armor had runes inscribed to augment my natural and magical abilities, added protective spells and glyphs, and teleportation abilities without using my innate spell capabilities. I didn't know how I knew this, as the runes I read were that of a magic user, not a cleric.
         I see you are finally awake. I worried your body would not accept the transformation, as it was not asked. Qhok'mudin observed. As you tried to end my life, I have started yours. You are no longer human. You have transcended into something gloriously hideous.
         What transformation? What have you done to me?
         Ignoring my questions, I was close to perishing because of you. Permanently. You see, you unwittingly destroyed my phylactery. Thankfully, you were unaware of what you did, so you did not press the attack. Of course, I had to punish you. Simply killing you wouldn't have taught you anything, and turning you into a mindless undead wouldn't further my revenge. No. You needed a lesson that would last an eternity.
         I own a vast magical treasure I have been accumulating for centuries. Some of the most valuable are the miniature items. Of these are my rings of Wishes. With careful thought, well-worded wishes, and several potions, I created a new you. Your new armor, rings, and various magical items are birthday presents.
         What is happening to me? Why do I feel so strange? I hunger, but it is a deep hunger. I can't explain it. What is the buzzing in my head?
         So many questions. I hope you are an adaptive person for a pupil, for I will not repeat myself. Ask your queries but think wisely before you do.
         What am I? What did you turn me into?
         That is an intelligent first question. You are now a Necromancing Lich Wizard.
         What? How did you do this? Why did you do this to me?
         Do you want to waste your time knowing these trivial questions? Or do you like to learn more about yourself?
         What powers do I have?
         You are immortal. You cannot be subjected to death by natural causes. You have a natural affinity to Necromancy, the ability to control the Undead. You are a powerful spellcaster who can affect the world around you and others. You will discover shapeshifting, teleportation, mind control, regeneration, invisibility, and others independently.
         What do I eat? I hunger but do not know for what.
         Ah. This question is one of the most critical questions, if not the most important question to ask. When a mage, or in your case, a cleric, becomes a Lich through Necromancy, a magical receptacle called a phylactery to store your soul is kept. Your soul lives on in the phylactery, the magical device to anchor your soul to the physical world. This phylactery will allow you to rise repeatedly as long as the phylactery is still intact, even if your body is destroyed. Now, heed this carefully; you must feed captured souls to your phylactery to sustain yourself.
         Feed souls to my phylactery? That sounds ghoulish.
         Qhok'mudin responded, If you do not feed your phylactery, you will go insane with hunger, and the dark side of your Lich-self will surface. It will hunt indiscriminately and without remorse. I can already see the hunger in your eyes beginning. It would be wise if you fed it soon.
         Where do I hunt? How do I hunt?
         You are a Lich--the apex of the Undead. You command, and the Undead will obey. Reach out your Mind as you did when searching for the Undead to banish. This time, call them to you.
         I feel them. Their minds are blank. Their wills are not their own. I can bend them easily. Wait. There is one. A vampire is trying to resist. I am using little effort to crush its will. They are all coming to me.
         That is good. Soon you will need to leave and claim your realm, as this is mine. It has taken several centuries for you to be reborn.
         Centuries? It feels like just yesterday we fought. My friends, the companions I came with, are all dead? Has my family been dead for generations?
         To work the dark magic needed to craft you, I needed sacrifices for the dark magic to work. The spell required I use your friends and family. Before you do something foolish, hear me out. Don't you think they would prefer to have you live when given the choice?
          Qhok'mudin gave them no choice.
         At this time, four fleshless skeletons slowly shuffled in. Moss and lichen hung loosely off their bones, and only one had an eye still intact; however, it hung down the side of its skull attached to the dead optic nerve. Close behind the skeletons, shrouded in darkness, came the Vampire.
         Once in, it stood, staring at both of us. Contempt and challenge radiated within its blood-filled eyes.
         Qhok'mudin, seeing this, stated, The Vampire is challenging you for dominion of this realm. It sees you as a rival. You must show your dominance.
         Not knowing what spell to cast, the Turn Undead, a Clerical spell, came to mind. A painful stabbing within my head occurred when trying to recall it from memory.
         After a notable wince, Qhok'mudin stated, You can no longer use your Cleric spells. You are a Necromancer Wizard. Think. Listen to the incantations speaking to you within your head.
         I listened to the buzzing. Focusing my thoughts on what it was telling me. Slowly glyphs began to appear to glow within my Mind. Glyphs I previously would not have understood, I understood. These were commands for the Elements of the Mind, Monsters, and the Undead.
         I spoke the command for the Glyph of Magic Missiles and aimed at the Vampire. Three glowing darts of magical force shot out and hit the Vampire simultaneously in the chest. The energy drives him backward, and he staggers to stay standing. Once he regains his footing, he stares straight ahead without blinking and then goes to one knee and bows his head.
         Well done! Well done, indeed, praised Qhok'mudin. Now tell your minions to go and find a soul for you to consume. Preferably one lost in the woods, a cemetery, or out adventuring. A few hamlets in the vicinity are without witches, as the hamlets cannot afford them. The Vampire will lure a susceptible soul to him from one of them. Several of the villages nearby have witches, and a few have clerics. I placed them within so I may keep track of local information. Avoid anything larger.
         Addressing the skeletons and the Vampire, Go out and find three victims who are alone and bring them to me. Do not be followed. Vampire, get another. I want you to Turn it.
         The Vampire doesn't acknowledge the command; however, a hungry look crosses his eyes.
         Within hours, pleas of terror and sobs can be heard down the cavern hall. They were coming within torchlight view, five dirty, scantly clothed peasants. Two women, one with child; the other barely a woman herself, carried baskets of Moonflowers, Evening Primrose, Night-Blooming Jasmine, and Devil's Trumpet. The other three were sunburnt, bearded peasants covered with fresh dirt. Grave robbers, no doubt.
         Addressing his Vampire, Take the young female. She is yours to Turn.
         The Vampire glides over to the now-shaking young woman. She is looking down, crying. The Vampire gently lifts her head with his hand, and they stare at each other. The young female slowly stops weeping and smiles at him. They keep the gaze for a few more moments before the Vampire turns away and begins gliding away. The young female, dropping her basket, follows willingly. They soon disappeared down the same hallway they came in.
         Once gone, Qhok'mudin addressed me, Now it is time for you to feed your phylactery.
         How do I do that? Earlier, you said there was a spell. Do I focus like I did before? Do I need to get it?
         Before Qhok'mudin could respond, a terror-filled scream filled the cavern. It came from down the hall where the Vampire and young female went. The cry abruptly stopped with a gurgling noise.
         Qhok'mudin continued as if nothing occurred. Your phylactery should not need to be present. It is best if the only way to get to it is with a Plane Shift. When we first met, I was in the process of moving mine. You caught me unaware, commented Qhok'mudin. To answer your other question, yes, you have the spell on transferring the soul into your phylactery. I am glad you have extra souls because this will allow you to settle in your new home and locate your hamlets and villages to use as resources. Always look for graveyards, as that will alert you to settlements. Now, let's proceed with filling your phylactery.
         Filling my phylactery went much easier than I thought it would, and after devouring the first soul, the process was rather enjoyable.
         After the consumption, the Vampire returned. I knew what he had done, how he turned the young female, and how long it would take for her to rise. I marveled at this knowledge. As a cleric, I knew about vampires but did not know about them in this much detail.
         Once the girl has risen, I will take my leave. I do not want to wear out my welcome more than I already have.
         To finish the process, you must do one more thing. It is imperative because it will follow you for as long as you exist, and most likely after.
         What is that? Another spell? More killing?
         No. You must create your name. A name that will strike fear in adventurers. The very mention of it will make religious people pray to their gods. Mighty kings will bow down to it. Your name will never be spoken around campfires in fear of your wrath.
         I know who I am.
          I am Sol'ginok, Soul Stealer.

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