Because when you say Necromancer everyone else thinks Postman.
Well, whatever. Head to this Regent Valley Place, deliver the note to lord whoever, and then I'm sure they'll be someone to point me in the direction of something that needs murdering.
I've seen a lot of nasty things on my travels, but nothing like the sight that greets me upon my arrival. No, not the hordes of giant scorpions.
Have we got a video?
Rangers. Oh JOY. No wonder the place is crawling with mutated vermin. I've always thought that one of the great advantages of being a Necromancer is that at least a 3 week old corpse doesn't smell as bad as a goddamn HIPPIE. Still, it would be remiss of me to not at least attempt communication. Perhaps some scraps of useful information may have penetrated the perpetual noxious ganja haze surrounding his so called mind.
"good day to you sir" quoth I, full of trepidation and mild nausea. How far can fleas jump again?
"I'm a ranger!" It says, as if impressed by the revelation.
"Oh. I'm terribly sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to help?"
I'd say he merely stared at me blankly, but it's hard to tell. I'm not sure he's capable of anything else. Must be all that mushroom granola or whatever. Still, let's keep trying. I foolishly ask if he might know where I could find some Necromantic training.
Sorry Mario, your class trainer is in another castle
No you stupid hippie. I AM a bloody Necromancer.
WHERE. IS. THE. NEAREST. OTHER. NEC-RO-MAN-CER?
Sorry Mario, your class trainer is...... Dude. My hands are HUGE... They can touch everything but themselves...
Oh just fuck off.
Leaving the rancid stench of patchouli and unwashed genitalia behind I venture onwards towards my goal. Well, the place I'm meant to be being postbitch for. My goal is to kill all the hippies. For some reason however this doesn't seem to be an option, so I settle for the local fauna instead. Scorpions and bandits and fish people, oh my!
But lo, what is this I see before me? Why it appears to be a punctuated peasant! Punctuation means employment, and employment means plausible deniability. Perchance are there any rancid hippies you need slaughtering madam?
I'll take that as a no then.
Spiders. Spiders stole your apple basket. Apple loving spiders? Do spiders usually eat apples? Are these, like, VEGETARIAN spiders or something? Maybe they caught something from the hippies?
Anyway, let's get this straight. Vegetarian spiders came by looking for apples and you ran away because you didn't know what else to do. It's just a thought, but why didn't you take that battle axe you're offering me and cut their bloody legs off? Or is that me being obvious again? Well, whatever. I'll get back to you. I've gotta go pick up some tofu to bait the traps with.
Moving on....
We reach the fort and find the lord and hand over the note, remembering to wipe most of the congealed guts off it first. I have been carrying around for quite a while.
He's so fussed at the news that he spends 10 minutes bitching about the guy who sent it in the first place. To be fair, I don't really see what all the fuss was about either, but then I didn't see anything when he allegedly urned up on account of being dead for most of the fight. He probably thinks someones making the whole thing up, and frankly I'm inclined to agree with him.
Anyway, let's check out this mighty fort. Must be few folks round here need some murdering done, right?
It's..... quiet. Isn't it? Seriously, there's something fishy going on here. I KILLED more people on the way here than live in this entire fortress. And they were BANDITS.
Zombies (none) copy and paste. repeat.
What sort of society can you have where 98% of it are criminal outcasts? DEAD criminal outcasts. Not that I have that much against the concept, but who exactly is it that these bandits are stealing FROM? Each other?
Zombies (1) copy and paste repeat
Do they have little bandit babies? And special Bandit schools and shops? Are there special bandit police who come for you when you're NOT breaking the law?
Zombies (3) copy and pate. Repeat.
That's... I'm.... I'm gonna stop thinking about this. It hurts my head. No wonder they're renting their services out to the goddamn bears.
Let's go pick apples!
After a brief stroll through woods infested with bandits and fish men we find the woods infested with giant spiders. Giant VEGETARIAN spiders.
Meat is murder!! And so is this!!
And sure enough the fiends are staking out the fabled apple basket of wrath. Apparently these apples are so HARDCORE they couldn't just eat them straight away. Or maybe they're going to bake a pie and were busy doing the pastry. I dunno.
This one is apparently also addicted to heroin
Sadly their culinary ambitions are never to be realized. Which is kind of shame when you think about it. How awesome would it be to watch giant spiders BAKING A PIE? You'd never need to do drugs again.
Fruits of DARKNESS.
Still, maybe the spiders were onto something after all. Because on the way back with the fruit the fishmen go FUCKING CRAZY.
Yes, I am casting fireball using a bowl of fruit. Do you have a problem with that?
So the fruit is returned to it's rightful owner (no, not the tree) and there is much rejoicing. But I can't help but have this funny feeling about the whole affair. Let's see if we can't puzzle this out.
1 - I am contracted to retrieve a basket of merchandise.
2 - My employer is rather keen to retrieve said basket, and fears retribution from their employer should the merchandise not be returned
3 - Everything and everybody is REALLY keen to take the basket from me.
4 - The districts human population are almost entirely all criminals
5 - NEEDLE spiders.
Conclusion: Apples weren't the only thing in that basket and I am now a drugs mule for the mob.
Fuck this. This isn't what I signed on for. I'm getting out of here before the bandit feds turns up.
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