Undeath explored

[*Mander]

Deep within the desolation of Niflheim, the lich who called itself the Gray Vizier had been working on it's greatest project....the creation of a new strain of undeath. It saw it's own state as the apex of undeath, needing no crippling reliance on the living for sustenance and allowing continuous activity. But to become a lich was something only a few could achieve, and there was always a risk of being utterly destroyed in the process.

Being an Athar with a unique view of things, it wanted to save humanity from being enslaved to afterlives and outsiders after death, keep them from being used as fuel for false power's realms and eventually being absorbed by them. Everyone deserved an eternity to explore the planes laid out for them by the Great Unknown, and humans had been cursed with such short lifespans... the destruction of hunger and sickness was also something Vizier looked foward to, a gray world of revenants devoting themselves to knowledge and perfection, freed from the base urges of flesh.


So it worked it's dread magics on screaming subjects with a pained sigh from nonexistent lungs. It could bring them back once the work was completed, their agony a necessary sacrifice for the greater good. Establishing a connection to the negative energy plane was proving elusive to achieve without the gnawing hunger for flesh and blood or loss of full memory in the subject. But it had all the time in the world to continue....

[*Midnight]

It would not take long for the Vizer's work to come to light. As the lich tirelessly worked amidst the screams of the dying and the dead it would hear foot falls and should it look to the source of the sound it would find it. Followed by a number of undead from the grey wastes would stand a woman in dark armour baring the seal of the Dustmen on it. Around her neck would be a holy symbol a left hand holding an eye in its palm. The priest doing nothing to hide this even in the presence of the Athar. She'd watch the lich's most recent attempt with a detached curiosity and then tut as the resultant creature was driven screaming mad in hunger and agony. Eventually after the Vizer had put the result of the latest failed experiment down, the screaming reanimated carcass reduced to a smouldering ruin she would speak. There would be no greeting or courtesy though. They were both dead things after all she'd simply state her mind.

"It is the hunger that comes with the negative energy. It is the driving force that makes us rise a new. We need purpose the trick here would be to either find a new purpose or to make us less reliant on negative energy."

She'd eye the raw materials to hand.

"I can show you how far I got with my last attempt if you like."

[*Mander]

The few remaining test subjects screamed for Emila to save them; Vizier stared at her with empty eye sockets for moments that stretched on, lingering on the symbol of Vecna.

"Yes...I have tried mummification with my clerical powers by the Unknown, but they do not rise. I have tried creating a mass phylactery, only for melded abominations to be reconstructed from it. I need...more results. Be welcome here for a time."

The kaisharga beckoned her to enter it's den of horrors, built into a cavern in the endless gray plains.

[*Midnight]

She seems at best deaf to the screams, at worst they actually seem to please her, a smile crossing her limps, out of context the grin woul look impish or mischievous.

"It is because by the time you start it is too late. You know what undeath is, negative energy animating a body, like us. The animating spirit fires the corpses memories, mannerisms and behaviour. Which leads us to the interesting question are we really who we think we are?"

She leans over to scratch the ear of one of the screaming writhing corpses as though it were some kind of pet.

"But that is a topic for another day. The point is that we inherit a life time of bad habits. Desires emotions wants. Undeath dulls them some what but they are still there, and as it makes us static and unchanging these are hard habits to break."

She looks around at the twisted tortured undead.

"It's too late for them. The lesser mindless undead they are closer to what we want, but they have no capacity to learn or understand things. Even awakened their minds are dulled. The work needs to begin while they are mortal. I took living subjects and addicted them to Liquid Pain. Had them scrub and torture each other, stripped away their identities until there was only one desire left for them. Their addiction. Then I cured them of it by making them undead. The resultant creations had clearer minds, no emotion no needs because by the end of their lives they only craved one thing and this was a craving that did not translate into undeath. The hunger was there but it was dulled. I was close but it was not perfect. My advice would be to start with the living."

[*Mander]

It considered her thesis, the burning green lights in it's eyesockets swelling with focus.


"We shall need a new batch, one carefully selected. Come along if you wish." The kaisharga turned to each of the failures and ended their torment in turn, the glaring flash of disintegrate spells filling the laboratory with a ghostly light. Gathering up it's notes it turned and departed to sigil, leaving Emila to decide her course.

[*Sunshine]

(( Mander, Midnight: As the guy who ran the original plot for Emila that resulted in the knowledge discussed here you two can count on my support of course. If you like I will think about fitting events and so. ))

[*Midnight]

Emila would smile and make her way after the lich practically skipping along her playful demeanour totally at odds with the grim task at head.

"Before you start looking for subjects, I'd find somewhere secure to put them if I were you."

((Noted and thank you.

[*Mander]

They moved through the wastelands at a slow enough pace, Vizier and Emila's undead servants lagging behind in a column.


"I suppose there is no place within the mortuary for these experiments? Our own factol clings to his fading life, too shortsighted to approve of my vision. These make-shift sites will not do for grander things to come...perhaps Skall would prove more interested?"

[*Midnight]

She shakes her head.

"Not The Mortuary no, the attention this draws was the problem last time. But I do have a place you can use."

She'd lead them out of Nifleheim and through Undersigil to the Hive and the den of liquid pain addicts that survived the fall out from her last efforts.

[*Sunshine]

Deep in the Hive the, well hidden from most in the cellar of some ruin there are still some survivors.

Guarded by a few undead and gang members they gather in dirty, dark room, the addicts barely aware of their surroundings.They are thin and malnourished, in terribly condition as their bodies are covered in woulds from their torture.
But they are far past caring, their minds clouded with drug induced bliss
A single agony extractor is in the center of the room, both a torture device and a machine to gather the drug, the latest victim squirming in pain on the vile chair, fresh. bloodred drug bubbling in a vial that is dirty from frequent use.

They are not aware of the visitors and the guards did not stop the two undead, allowing them to enter.