Heather the Necromancer

Book 1: Chapter 11: Frank?

Book 1: Chapter 11: Frank?

No. click. No. click No. click NO! Heather leaned back on the stairs of the crypt and put an arm over her eyes.

Why do all the women's clothing leave so much exposed? she cried to no one in particular. She looked down and clicked the next image and saw an outfit that was little more than a belt with a silk loincloth and a scarf of purple that just happened to drape over her chest.

What if the wind blows! she shouted at the image. You wont have anything on but your shame!

What are you doing? Frank asked as he arrived at the top of the steps.

Heather sighed and held up her panel. Looking for something to wear! Whoever designed these outfits clearly didn't think women should be dressed.

I think women designed those, he said.

What! Heather snapped. What woman wants to run around with everything but her shoulders and her ankles exposed?

Lot's of them, Frank said. One of the mundane classes is a tailor, and you can design clothing for players. That's where most of what youre looking at comes from.

Heather looked down at her panel and frowned. So all this was designed by players?

Frank nodded, and Heather scowled.

I bet every one of them is a man!

I know some of the women were men, Frank said.

What? Heather snapped again as she sat up.

You can pick your gender, remember?

Heather remembered the earlier conversation and thought it through.

So, the women who design these outfits might once have been men?

Some of them are for sure, Frank said as he scratched his head.

My point still stands then!

There should be a way to pick the game defaults, he said. Those are the outfits the visitors added.

Heather had to hunt for the option but eventually found the basic outfits. Sadly her sundress was among them.

I can't believe people think this outfit is bad because it covers, she sighed.

What outfit? Frank asked as he shuffled down the stairs.

The sundress I had on. Those three jerks made fun of me for wearing it.

I thought it looked old fashioned, but it was pretty on you, Frank said.

She looked up at him with a slight smile. At least somebody has an appreciation for simple style.

So what are you searching for?

Something I can wear to the city without going as a streaker, she said.

You want to go to the city?Follow current novels at novelhall.com)

Heather smiled. I want to see what its like. I wont be gone long.

The city is three days away.

What! she snapped for the third time. You didnt tell me that before!

I didn't think it mattered, he said with a shrug.

You were going to let me walk off to the city yesterday. I would be out there alone and lost. I would probably have been eaten by Nillacs.

I would have gone with you, he said.

She paused to look into his yellow eyes.

You? You would have?

Just as far as the forest outside the city. You can see it from there, and you would be safe on your own.

You would have protected me all the way there?

I suppose.

But, your graveyard? she said. You dont like to be away from it too long. What if somebody did that thing to it?

Frank sighed. If your character is killed enough times, they allow you to change.

They do? Heather asked, now curious.

I think that's to prevent this sort of problem. If youre being killed over and over the visitors made is so you can change to something the other players won't kill.

Heather saw the logic in that and the obvious problem. This only tipped the scales further and further in favor of the hero classes.

This is why your graveyard is so far away from the city, she said.

Frank nodded. If I was closer I would be attacked constantly by hoards of players.

So if players dont play monster races, who do the heroes battle?

The world has lots of naturally occurring races. You can even find wild ghouls. Every monster race has a wild version of the same kind. So there are wild vampires, trolls, goblins, and dragons.

There are dragons? she asked.

Frank nodded. I have never seen one, but I was told they are here.

Heather silently hoped she would never see one.

So the heroes battle against the natural monsters because they drove out all the player ones, she said.

I think so. I tried to play closer to the city, but only a few people would talk to me, and others would form big groups to hunt for me. That's how I learned about the vampire group. A few friendly players warned me and told me the others would come looking for me soon.

Because youre worth experience, she said as she began to understand. So all the heroes do all day is ruin the fun of the monster players.

The heroes sometimes kill each other, Frank said. They hold arena battles, or mock contests to see who is the best.

What a joke, she said.

Whats a joke? he asked.

An alien race comes to study us, and we show it our worst characteristics, Heather said.

What do you mean?

Heather looked at him and shook her head. What would you think of a society that kills itself over and over again? That persecuted anything that wasnt pretty enough for it? What if the aliens are ugly by our standards? What do you think they are learning about how we will treat them?

Frank looked about his room a moment and twisted his fingers. I never thought of it like that.

What if they are trying to see how we will react to direct contact?

Frank looked away and shuffled around the earthen pit. They made this world to be competitive though, he pointed out.

They based it on our games. What if they didn't understand why we play them? Heather suggested. They are so different from us; we can't figure out how to communicate. What if they thought our games were communication?

They figured out enough to make us understand the purpose of the world, Frank said.

Heather thought back to that. She remembered the news when it came out that the visitors were talking through a video game. She also remembered that they spoke volumes of text and that most of it was still unreadable today. The invitation to the world read something like come, and we learn. Help us know you. Now that she thought about it that could be taken a bunch of different ways.

I still think we are giving them a bad example, she said with a shake of her head.

Maybe they like games too, Frank Suggested. They might be enjoying watching us and seeing how we compete.

Maybe, Heather said.

Frank suddenly looked up and started to twist around

Whats wrong with you?

Somebody is in the graveyard, he said.

My sign worked! Heather exclaimed.

I am going to go see who it is, he said. Feel free to explore the other room, but it looks like the first one mostly.

She watched him walk down the tunnel they came from, and then she started to wander the room. There were some weapons on the table that she was only familiar with from movies. One was obviously a sword, and there were some long knives. One was an ax with a spike on the other end, and one looked like a baseball bat but had metal bands with spikes.

Probably stuff he took from players, she said as she walked over the ceramic jars. These were half as tall as she was and painted a faded blue. Inside she saw coins and golden beads and a few pieces of jewelry.

And this is the gold he takes from them, she said.

She looked up when she heard a cry muffled by the layers of dirt. She went back to the jars and tried to put what must be going on out of her head.

She decided to risk wandering down the tunnel on the other side and discovered an empty room just as Frank said. She carefully ascended the stone steps to the upper chamber. The mausoleum was empty as well, but the heavy wooden door was open, and a crack of light stretched into the gloom inside.

She crept to the door and looked out as her heart stopped.

Frank? she whispered.