Many myths surround the figure of the necromancer. Some tell of unspeakable power, purchased with souls, unstoppable. Others tell of ultimate weakness, scorned by the masses, wanted by none. As with most issues that seem black and white, the truth hides somewhere in the shadows.

The Power, The Power!

The necromancer has many resources to rely on. 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 and assure certain self-destruction.

The greatest resource to the necromancer is, of course, the body of forbidden lore that comprises the various spells that are available. Most of these spells facilitate a long, painful death for the recipient. Beyond that, however, there are spells that weaken the victim, allow the necromancer to escape from a situation gone wrong, heal, find and summon corpses, enhance melee combat, and (of course) conjure a skeletal minion from beyond the grave.

Speaking of skeletal minions... the bony "pet" available to even the youngest practitioner of the dark arts is easily the second-greatest resource to the necromancer. This loyal, commandable, not-too-bright companion typically makes a significant contribution to the pain felt by the necromancer's victim. Without careful attention and tight control, of course, it only causes problems. For the beginner, the pet is a useful tool; for the master, the pet is a force to be reckoned with.

A third resource, less significant but still important, is personal combat. Certainly, for the young necromancer still learning the basics of spellcasting, melee is unavoidable. What is often overlooked by the extremely bookish types is the effectiveness of a well-placed dagger or staff later in life.

Other resources are available, particularly in terms of equipment 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 their command, why haven't necromancers turned the entire world into a bloody graveyard? Where is the great necromantic emperor, mighty in grim splendor, 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 arcane, but it hints at the troubles to come.

Once the necromancer leaves the comfortable environs of home, the danger increases. In cities where the dark arts are unknown, overzealous guards defend their ignorance with swords. Shopkeepers refuse coins that have been blessed with the touch of death. Everywhere, weak-minded fools and self-righteous vigilantes attack without provocation instead of cowering in terror as is proper. The necromancer on the road is well-advised to trust no one and keep to the shadows... until it is time to show those petty mortals the full range of power that they unwisely scorned.

"But cities are few and far between," you may say to yourself. "If necromancers are such juggernauts of unstoppable grim power, surely every battle-hardened veteran would want one on the front lines when the enemy approaches!" In fact, the 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 ridiculous behavior. Quite a few 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 dimwits only grasp the simplest of battle plans, "Hack Now, Heal Later"; they need to be killed and raised as our undead slaves. A few souls will turn us away in rejection of the gods we serve; they need only be mocked.

Unfortunately, the greatest cause of this disservice stems from necromancy itself – with the powers that we wield, we have no need to rely on others. It requires only a little planning and a few well-chosen tactics to reap a massive harvest of blood, garnering even more power. That power brings about a larger slaughter, leading to even greater power, and so on, honing the necromancer's skills and self-reliance in a wicked spiral of death. Before long, the necromancer approaches the very heights 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?