Private Tales Rest for the Wicked

[Magnan Smithson]

Magnasandree looked out among the Eternum camp from the small hill they had claimed for themselves, as the leader of the movement. Their small building, constructed by a couple of reanimated geomancers out of the hardened earth of this continent, was still the largest and the fanciest. It was made to house both them and those they deemed worthy, who could be counted upon their fingers. The rest of the necromancers and undead milled about below them, a teeming mass of rotting flesh and bone as they went about the act of construction using whatever materials they could find. Two souls looked through one pair of ‘eyes’, one socket glowing a haunting blue whilst the other shone in a vivid pink. Magnan saw his people, noble in their purpose and wish, who needed his aid to see their dream come true. Eilasandree saw little more than a means to an end, the tool through which her goals would be achieved. Both were repulsed by the other’s thought, but could do little about it. They were one, and until such a time as they could seperate themselves, one’s thoughts were also the other’s.

Which is why surprise and shock was mixed with anticipation and no small amount of giddiness.

Magnan had long since believed that the the elf that was bound to him was little better than the beings had had fought against all his life, a monster who cared only for herself and her goals in un-life. He knew that she would sacrifice anything to achieve her goals, and wouldn’t bat a single eye at the lives it may cost. Which is why he found himself shocked and surprised as the Banshee Queen was flooded with something resembling excitement and happiness when they recieved a report about a red-headed thief, and had immediately used her very limited power within their body to ensure that they ordered her to be given the warmest clothing they had, and to wait on her hand and foot until such a time as the Thief, a ‘Rainie’, could meet with the pair-that-is-one. Eilasandree, for her part, simply flashed images through their mind (none too risque, of course) that summarised the relationship between the two. Then, in a shocking moment, she had actually asked Magnan for control over the body.

The ancient warrior had been tempted to decline, half out of spite and half out of dislike of the feeling of losing control for even a second, especially after she had muscled her way just earlier, but he could feel the sincerity within her words and felt his resolve weaken. While he did not like the Banshee, he had loved once, and even just the notion of the ancient elf feeling what they were currently feeling would have had him scoff earlier. He was curious, and wistful, and thus agreed, if only to witness this. No doubt it would be a sight to behold. So, the pair waited, until a small party of guards escorted Rainie up the hill and towards the pair, their titanic and antlered body turning to face her. As she came within speaking distance, Magnan felt Eilasandree speak up.

“My love...” Their layered voice began, one the rattling of the warrior, the other the silk of the banshee. “I’m sure you have... questions.”

Rainie

 

[Rainie]

Lorraina Night found herself growing desperate and a bit frustrated. When she’d traveled through the violent orcish lands of the Eretejva tundra, she’d been hoping to simply find the undead settlement of eternum and find her lover. Worry buzzed through her skull and tension held her entire body uncomfortably stiff. The raw skin of her stomach felt tight; the edges of her healed wound raw.

Rainie, as Lorraina was called, was sore and tired and frazzled from sneaking through dangerous territory. Orcs were violent, and had a penchant for kidnapping people and selling them into slavery. But she just couldn’t bear to wait for a letter. No, Rainie needed to see Eila herself. Ensure she was alright after the chaos, the demons, and the mist.

The party of guards that had eventually escorted her (after much arguing) had been nothing but accommodating since receiving word from their leader. Still, no one would answer her questions about Eilasandree. She wasn’t even sure the zombie-like beings could speak.

Finally, after what felt like eons, she was brought to the undead leader. Trudging up the hill, the bard looked up and inspected the large being. A massive skeleton with gargantuan antlers stood over her, incredibly tall, and a strange voice called out:

“My love...” Their layered voice began, one the rattling of the warrior, the other the silk of the banshee. “I’m sure you have... questions.”

Rainie blinked. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Unsure, she tried, “I-I’m looking for my patron… Lady Eilasandree.” She stared up at the massive lich critically, not understanding. And then her gaze landed on the creature’s eyes: one blue, and one familiar pink. The creatures words finally registered.

Her eyes widened and her hand flew up to her chest in shock. “Eila?!” She called, completely aghast.

Magnan Smithson

 

[Magnan Smithson]

It almost hurt to see her so aghast at what Eila had become, but the banshee queen moved past that and raised their arms to their side. "Yes..." Her voice, alone, emanated from the skull as its jaw clacked as Magnan retreated to leave the two alone and give them privacy. "When I was caught within that demonic realm, I... I came close to death. The strain of keeping the Eternum together in such an environment... Ittook more than I had. I needed... I needed more power, as shameful as that is to admit. So I bound myself to this warrior's Phylactery." They gestured at themself, then towards a glowing and runed shield that was alternating between and blue light as the two powers conflicted. "Fortunately, I was able to retrieve my body before we were ejected from that alternate realm. Come." She ordered, lacing a hand upon Rainie's back that had once been soft and refined, but was now the size of Rainie's torso and ushered her inside. A mental wave was all it took for the contingent of undead that had followed them to stay outside.

Eilasandree lead her love down the hall within, coming to a stop outside the furthest room. "I have been doing my best to keep myself reserved, and while the cold is helping, it is nonetheless difficult when I am not inhabiting it." She says, before opening the door to the room and revealing what was inside. It was a stark ice blue room, where the air was too cold to stand in for longer than a couple of minutes. The room was empty save for a large altar placed within the centre of it, upon which the naked body of Eilasandree lay, eyes closed and hands by her side.

Tiny little runes were etched into her skin, covering the tall elf everywhere except her face and hands, which were often the only visible parts of her. The runes were hard to look at for anyone, blasphemous and so necromantically centred as they were. Stepping forward, Magnasandree's gauntleted hand touched the body, a wisp of pink energy floating from them and into the body as the runes lit up. Immediately, the body seemed to look... better. Fresher, and for a moment its eyes even fluttered. "In order to transfer myself back over, I need to first bring the body to life. True life. A difficult enough task. However... it gets worse. Once I do bring it back, my own power will be ripped from me. I will be unable to cast even the most basic of spells, and will be entirely at the mercy of whatever it is that resides within my body."

They turned to look down at Rainie, blue long gone as the ink flares to life. What came next was certainly the most vulnerable and weak Eilasandree had sounded in over 800 years. "But... there is a way around. If... If you were to be the soul, you could transfer yourself into my body, and then using my power place me in your own, before swapping our souls one last time. You wouldn't lose anything, and I would have my body back. I-I know it is a lot to ask, but..." She paused, before a word passed from her. "Please. You're the only one I trust to do this."

 

[Rainie]

Rainie’s mouth seemed fully intent on catching as many flies as possible, with how much she was gaping. The massive lich had lead her into a frigid chamber, upon which the bard had noticed the immobile body of Eilasandree laid out upon a slab.

Rainie’s odd lavender eyes traced over the familiar nude body and noted each rune carved there. She listened to the creature’s words, no longer echoing with the deeper bass of the original body’s occupant as much, and if she closed her eyes she could almost pretend it was Eila speaking to her.

This was insane. Just, pure insanity. Rainie had never expected or intended for this. What was even happening?

She drew her cloak more closely over her shoulders, body wracking with shivers. Her barely-healed wound ached and stung. Her brain was buzzing with all the new information, the plan Eila had constructed, and all the implications.

“This is… what you want? You’re old body back?” She confirmed with a hopeful tint to her voice. Then, she blinked and considered the rest of what the lich was implying.

“Well, do you need any components? I wanted....” She stuttered just then, face flushing. “Well, I wished to see my family in Alliria… You were my first stop. After the mist, and the demons.” Her hand came up to clasp at the side of her stomach at its own volition. Guilt and regret became to creep up her back. “But…” What if things went wrong? What if she never found out if her family had survived? Her breath sped up at the mere idea of it.

“I want to help!” She added hastily, voice a bit higher than normal. “Just tell me what you need.”

All the while, the motionless body of what she’d once thought of as her love lay upon stone altar kept drawing her attention, and then horror kept drawing her gaze quickly away. Perhaps she’d misunderstood all the implications of becoming involved with an undead woman in the beginning. She wasn’t quite sure what she was doing anymore.

Magnan Smithson

 

[Magnan Smithson]

The titan crossed its arms, head tilting as Eilasandree and Magnan considered what was needed, and what the Eternum would have a hard time getting their hands on. While there was certainly a variety of materials required, they were either within their grasp already or about to be. That being said, there were definitely places the beautiful thief could go that even their best assassins couldn't hope to penetrate, a fact that sent a feeling of pride through Eilasandree, to Magnan's continuing surprise. "...Diamonds." Came the voice, eventually. They looked down towards the red head, a single finger the size of Eilasandree's hand tucking her hair back as gently as they could in their form.

"We need Diamonds. They're rare, even for us, and we need... a lot of them. Almost 30,000 gold worth. Normally, i'd try and purchase such an amount, but even if I weren't leading an undead rebellion at this point... i'm not sure i'd be able to gather that much in the time we have. But... I know you have a way around such... limitations. If you could gather that, and a small amount of holy water to ensure the purity," There was a chuckle at that last part, "I would be able to return in full. Do you believe you can do that?" She hoed she wasn't asking too much of her love. It had been far too long a time since they had last seen the other, and she feared their passion may not be as powerful as it had once been.