A Necromancer in New Vegas
Chapter V: Preparation, or The Start of a New Journey
The day spent in Goodsprings had been well-spent so far as Arrelus was concerned. It was a nice change of pace compared to his time in the wilds of Skyrim. The beer wasn't quite as strong as he might've liked, but it did leave his mind clearer than strong Nord ale would've. Trudy even made some food for Angela and himself, a steak and potato stew that was quite filling. After they finished their food and drink, Sunny took it upon herself to show them around the village so that they could stock up on any supplies they might need for their planned excursion.
The owner of the local general store seemed less than pleased that the necromancer didn't have any of the local currency and it appeared as if he'd refuse to offer any support. Sunny intervened on his behalf, however, and spoke to him privately. Whatever she had said seemed to work out in their favor, and the pair had received at least the basic necessities for their journey. The dry heat of the Mojave was not exactly the best environment for the thick furs he wore and getting clothing that was more suited for the area was a relief he hadn't realized until he changed.
It was mostly made of some sort of black-dyed leather. It wasn't likely to offer too much protection against bullets or blades, but at least it was more appropriate for the environment. The undershirt was made of cotton, by his best guess, and would do its job at preventing chafing from the long-sleeved, leather overshirt. Both the overshirt and pants fit him quite well and would likely be easier to run in than his previous outfit, if he needed too. After finding some boots that he was happy with the size, Arrelus noted that they had some sort of small spikes beneath the sole. Sunny informed him that they offered better traction. The wildlife out in the Mojave was dangerous enough that any advantage in running faster than them was necessary. Of course, he still kept the cloak, as there was no telling what sort of storms might kick up.
Aside from the change in wardrobe, Chet also offered them – after a hard look from Sunny – some food and water that would last for a few days, some spare ammunition for Angela's revolver and a rucksack to carry their supplies in. He seemed like a frugal man, with a tight grip on everything in his store, but as it stood Arrelus was more than happy to receive any material support. A few days of food and drink should be more than enough before he began creating his horde. He could have them hunting and foraging for him once he had taken the prison.
That had been yesterday, however. There hadn't been a need to use any of their supplies that night or the morning thereafter since Trudy was more than happy to feed them while they were there. She was quite insistent, really. It was a welcome change from the harsh and paranoid Nords of Skyrim. In the northern provinces, he was lucky if he could manage to rent out the stables to sleep in whenever he was in a village. It was one of the reasons he'd taken to simply living in the wilds and forgoing sleep with magic.
Now, however, the pair of them had left Goodsprings. Though Arrelus might've liked to turn Cobb, Cox and the other Powder Gangers into thralls, he had decided against it for now. He wished to remain on good terms with the people of Goodsprings, and this angelic or priestly image they had of him might be shattered if they knew of his actual role as a necromancer. The bodies of the Powder Gangers had been burned, refused even a proper burial, as apparently dead raiders tended to be. The smell of death attracted things that even guns might have trouble putting down. Of course, Arrelus had been free to take any of their possessions he saw fit. He decided to give Angela the opportunity to look over the weapons and see if there was anything of use. In the end, Chet had actually been paid for his help in the form of the weapons the raiders had been carrying. According to Angela, nothing there had really been worth taking considering how poorly maintained they were.
At some point, the necromancer really needed to learn how to use a gun but that could be left for a later time. For now, Angela and himself were walking down a road out of Goodsprings that, if the memories he'd stolen from Cobb and Cox were any indication, should lead them directly to the NCR Correctional Facility. It had been some hours since they'd left the village, but thankfully a bit of Frost magic was able to keep the two of them cool even in this unforgiving heat. There would be plenty of Magicka stores in the prison to make the comfort worth the cost, after all.
The mage was quite happy to see Angela remaining so alert. Her thoughts betrayed the subconscious memories that had her eyes keeping a vigil that would've kept her alive even in Skyrim's civil war. There was little reason to dig too deeply into her mind at the moment, however. It might provoke some sort of resurfacing of a great trauma that hindered her ability to think clearly in the upcoming fights they were sure to have. Flashes of other gangs, other raiders, sometimes reached him through their link, however. Angela's hands were far from clean, and her past was about as free of sin as his own. The Californian Empire seemed to have its own share of issues not unlike Skyrim's, and for far, far longer. Perhaps knowing such things would be useful for later.
"Did you look into their heads too?" Arrelus' inward musings were interrupted as Angela spoke. "The Powder Gangers, I mean. The folks back in Goodsprings, they don't know what you can do. I mean, not really, not like I've seen. I don't even know what you did, speaking honestly. During the fight, I felt… something happen. I'm not sure what it was, but it was like I got a sudden burst of energy when whatever that first spell you used on them hit. They just died, and then you brought them back for a second. I… I saw things when you did. I saw the prison, even though I've never really been there. I know there's gonna be some groups up ahead of Powder Gangers, outposts set up by Eddie. I know who Eddie is, even though I know I've never met him before."
"I thought that such a thing might happen." The Exile admitted without missing a step. "Unlike normal Thralls, you seem to have some connection to my Magicka. When I cast spells, they affect you. What you felt was Soul Trap. I ripped their souls from their bodies and converted it into Magicka. It would be near impossible for me to use my Magicka in the same way as I am used to without a way to consistently replace it. If I could not find a way to replenish my reserves, then even you would return to the death I saved you from. In my world, the spell doesn't function that effectively, however. All beings have Magicka, and so that offers a measure of protection against simply having one's soul taken in life. Given the lack of Magicka in the natives of this world, I have to assume that a great number of my spells function differently."
"Is… is that how you looked into my head? You stole my soul and put it back inside of me or something?" There was a look of profound horror in Angela's eyes. Arrelus tried very hard to stop himself from laughing, he really did. As it stood, it was all he could do to only chuckle at the ridiculousness of her question. "What's so funny?"
"No, no, I did not shove your soul back into your body. That is not how these things work. No, peering into the memories of others is not connected to Soul Trapping, but to raising the dead. As was the case when I turned you into a thrall, when I brought them into unlife, the memories of Cobb and Cox were granted to me. It seems that much in the same way that using spells to alter my form, some of those also pass on to you in the moment it takes effect. You will grow used to it. You will have to. I plan on using all of the Powder Gangers to create my first horde here in the Mojave. I will need the numbers to scout out this new world and plan out my next move."
The horror Angela felt seemed to have become more muted in her own head. It was to be expected that she wouldn't accept things immediately, but the fact that her continued existence relied on such things seems to have helped. It went from muted to completely non-existent in a single instant, however, as she spoke. "Up ahead. There's four by the shack at the end of the road."
Looking ahead, Arrelus nodded. The shack at the end of the road she spoke of was quite small and made of some sort of metal. The road forked in two directions in front of it. To the right, it would lead to Primm, which was apparently the easiest way to get to the shining city known as New Vegas. The left, however, would lead Arrelus to his prize, to the prison. Sitting in front of the shack, with alcohol and cigarettes in hand, were a quartet of Powder Gangers. They hadn't been spotted yet thanks to the use of Invisibility and Muffle. It was one of Arrelus' favorite spell combinations and had saved him from many of those who would love nothing more than to kill him for graverobbing or simply existing in the northern provinces as an Imperial. "I would prefer them alive so that I can increase my reserves." It was the only directive he gave to Angela. She was more than free to do to them what she wished as long as he could do at least that.
Truth be told, he could have used Soul Trap from even the distance they were at but he wished to see how she might go about doing such a thing. As they approached, he watched as she checked the chambers in her revolver, before ultimately placing it in its holster. Perhaps she believed they weren't worth wasting ammunition on. The necromancer slowed his steps a bit to ensure that he could keep his eye on all of them and cast a spell if he needed to. Though Angela couldn't be killed so long as he had Magicka, it was best if her body didn't get damaged too badly or he might have to waste his resources patching her up.
As she got to the little circle they were seated around, he realized what she was planning. One of them had a baseball bat at his feet. The moment she touched it; it also became invisible to the drunkards. Even if they had noticed its sudden disappearance, it wouldn't have mattered. Within moments, she'd left them all on the floor, blood pooling on the dirt from their cracked skulls. Though her footsteps were silent, the same couldn't be said of the swings. The air whistled four times, and the four blows crashed like so many thunderbolts, one after another.
"Is that alive enough for you?" She asked as she swung it downwards, blood flying from the oak and staining the prison jumpsuit of one of them. Rather than answer verbally, Arrelus drew on his Magicka to rip their souls from their bodies, finishing the job the Courier had started. Angela sighed and rested the bat on her shoulder, uncaring of the bodily fluids staining the leather armor she herself also wore. "Thought so. So, are these guys gonna be like me, or…?"
"I suppose we're going to find out, won't we?"