any myths surround the figure of the Necromancer. Some tell of Unspeakable power, purchased with souls, unstoppable. Others tell of ultimate weakness, scornéd by the masses, desired by none. As with most issues which seem black and white, the truth lingers amidst the gray shadows.

The Price of Power

The necromancer has a great many resources to rely upon. When used with skill, they combine to provide the wielder a Potency and Versatility that has few rivals. When used poorly, they will turn on the wielder in a moment of vicious enmity and assure certain self-destruction.

The greatest resource to the necromancer is, of course, the undead minion available to even the youngest practitioner of the Dark Arts. This loyal and worthy (if not excessively bright) companion is, with careful attention and mindful control, the Messenger and Excecutor of the pain felt by the necromancer's victim. For the beginner, the servant is a necessary tool; for the master, the servant is a force of forbidding terror and awe.

The undead companion, however, is only a channel and a focus for the true source of the reanimator's power: the body of ancient forbidden lore from which the Rites of Arawn are drawn. Most of these spells expedite the passing of the recipient through one means or another. Beyond this, however, there are spells which merely weaken the victim, others which protect allies, some which bolster the servant, and of course several which Conjure the deathly minion from beyond the grave.

Other resources are available, particularly in terms of armor, jewelry, and other found and crafted items. Such trinkets have their place, but in no way substitute for the practiced Skills and dark rituals which make Necromancy respected and feared.

Alone in the Dark

With the Forces of Darkness at our command, why have Necromancers not already rid the world of their enemies, assembling their wailing Spirits and broken bodies in a dreadful bloody graveyard as a warning to the future? Where is the Great Necromantic Emperor, mighty in grim splendour, commanding an unstoppable army of the walking dead? Why do we spend so much time lurking in forgotten places and shunning companionship?

All power has a price. For the necromancer, that price is acceptance.

It begins at home. Word spreads quickly when you choose the Dark Path, and otherwise friendly townsfolk become ill-disposed and unhelpful. Certain individuals border on aggressive. At worst this is a minor annoyance to the student of the Forbidden Arcana, but it hints at troubles to come.

Once the necromancer leaves the pleasant environs of home, danger increases. In lands where the dark arts are unknown, overzealous guards defend their ignorance with swords. The weak-minded fool and the self-righteous vigilante attack without provocation instead of cowering in Terror as is proper. Yes, the necromancer abroad is well-advised to trust no one and keep to the shadows... until the time comes to show those petty Mortals the full range of power that they unwisely scorned.

You may say to yourself, “If necromancers are such juggernauts of unstoppable ghastly power, surely every battle-hardened veteran would want one on the front lines when the enemy approaches!” In fact, the very opposite is more often true. Even well-established necromancers may have a Difficult time enlisting their services with their so-called peers.

There are many reasons for such incomprehensible behavior. Some people, being raised in Ignorance and fed Lies for breakfast, simply have no idea what the range of our power is; they need educating, teach them. Other lackwits only grasp the simplest of battle plans, Hack and Heal; they need to be brought to their final peace and raised as our undead slaves. A few souls will turn us away in rejection of the god we serve; they need only be mocked.

In truth, however, the greatest cause of this antipathy stems from Necromancy itself: With the forces at our command, we have no need to rely upon others. It requires only slight planning and a few well-chosen tactics to reap a massive harvest of blood and bone, thus garnering more power. That expanded power brings about a larger slaughter, leading to even greater ability, and so on, honing the necromancer's skills and self-reliance in a Wicked spiral of death. Before long, the necromancer approaches the very Pinnacle of the dark arts, with the greatest of foes to face... foes which require close-knit teamwork, group-oriented strategies, and a band of trusted allies, all of which have been Forsaken in the solitary pursuit of power which the Dark Arts encourage.

Ironic, no?