The business of our hero received a request. In a castle situated on a crag overlooking a deep abyss, a necromancer ruled alone an army of undead. He despaired of his own immortality and wanted to feel the pleasure of life again, and so sought the vessel of an adult male.
Our hero inquired after the sisters. The sisters were doing well. As they shared some blood with men, they did not suffer much deterioration from the death of the forest god. Their hair had fallen out, their skin wrinkled, and their muscles atrophied, but they were still able to farm and hunt, for the other creatures suffered far more than they. They also did not put too much stock in beauty. Hair was the primary means by which their species attracted mates, but it was not unheard of in the animal world for females to choose their males rather than the other way around.
The sisters guided our hero to a slime grove and taught him the means to catch one, using jars. They then taught him how to feed and domesticate the slime. He thanked them and went on his way.
Our hero responded to the necromancer’s request by mating with the slime, thereby producing an offspring. This the necromancer could use as a vessel. The hero requested specific payment. He would produce another child, but he wished the necromancer, using his dark magic, to accelerate this one’s aging so he could provide it to the manpig. The necromancer agreed.
The necromancer aged the child and, through a ritual, separated his soul from his body and entered the now adult replica of our hero. The necromancer then disemboweled himself and became spirit again. The vessel was too stupid for him.
Our hero asked the recruiter to find a pregnant woman of suitable reputation. When the necromancer agreed with the choice, they placed the woman in a magic circle, and the necromancer’s spirit entered the unborn child. The woman went into labor immediately; the head broke out; then the arms; then the necromancer crawled out on his own strength, in adult form, for he did not want to wait through adolescence. The woman, understandably, died.
He then disemboweled himself with a knife meant for the umbilical cord. The horrors of being born convinced him to hate life and wish for the lack of sensation again.
His soul flew around the room, until it entered the only suitably blank vessel, the womb of the woman’s pet bird, who then laid the egg. Our hero sought to sell this egg, for he thought it would have a discerning taste.
Without the necromancer’s command, the undead army roamed mindlessly. Our hero retrieved the former necromancer’s records and exhorted the mage to learn them.
© 2025 Justin Lee