A Necromancer in New Vegas
Chapter II: Fortune, or Why Stealth Magic is Important
Arrelus had seen many things in his life. He had been born to merchants in the Imperial Capital City and traveled, of his own accord and on his own dime, to Skyrim a decade and a half ago to attend the College of Winterhold. On his journey, he'd been harassed by soldiers, mercenaries, bandits, monsters, and animals, all of which had been convinced to leave him alone either through gold or Magicka.
He'd seen backwater farms, small villages, and even some of the largest cities in Tamriel.. All manner of Man, Mer, and Beast were part of his studies both in Cyrodiil and in Skyrim. He had wanted to know everything, to seek all the knowledge that could be gained. Sixteen years in Cyrodiil, twelve at the College and three in the wilds of Skyrim had taught him much. It had given him experience beyond his years and instincts honed to keep him alive.
Those instincts had taught him that grave-digging was an activity best done under the cover of night, so he'd waited until midnight. It had also taught him that prying eyes and ears were never as far as you might like them to be, so he'd cast Invisibility and Muffle. Finally, it had taught him that spotting a would-be informant was the best way to ensure they never informed anyone, so - of course - Nighteye had been absolutely necessary.
His preparations might seem like too much to most people, but he was a necromancer. It was not only possible for him to be killed for what he wanted to do, but it was the expectation if he was caught. Arrelus couldn't help but be absolutely grateful for the preparations he'd made, and the instincts that had told him to do so. It seemed his luck was turning around.
Arrelus had not even figured out which grave he would defile when he heard footsteps. Five sets were heavy. One was nearly inaudible, so quiet he would've missed it if he hadn't been listening. Though it was wholly unnecessary thanks to his spells, the necromancer still moved behind a dead-looking tree.
Six men in strange clothing became visible as they ascended the hill. Five of them were quite large and muscular, one of whom was carrying a woman over his shoulder. Her wrists were bound tightly with a length of, particularly, thick rope. The sixth men led the pack, shorter and clearly physically weaker than the rest. There was something sticking out of his mouth and giving off smoke. Perhaps it was a type of drug? The sextet certainly gave off the same aura as raiders.
The small man said something to the others. The bigger man who was carrying the woman dropped her unceremoniously while another brought out a shovel. The second one began digging what was clearly meant to be a shallow and unmarked grave while the others talked amongst themselves.
Arrelus very much wished he could understand what they said, but he still hadn't found any Men to turn into a Thrall. If he was correct, that woman would be his first in this new place with strange clothing, weapons, and a language he'd never heard nor read in all his time at the College. Combined with the absence of Magicka, the necromancer was really starting to suspect he may not be in Tamriel anymore. Perhaps not even on Nirn, or any of the Planes of Oblivion.
The woman seemed to have awoken after some time. She was struggling in her binds and looking around from her spot on the ground. The small man who led the group seemed to have noticed as well. He began speaking to her, dropping the smoking stick to the ground and crushing it beneath his heel as he showed some sort of silver disc to her. He then replaced it in his clothing and pulled out… one of those strange weapons Arrelus had seen in the not-quite-a-wolf's memories.
Without hesitation, he pointed it at her and squeezed his index finger against some sort of mechanism protruding from it. The noise that erupted from the weapon was ear-shattering. Thankfully, Muffle kept him from making any noise as he jumped back. There was a flash of light that accompanied it, then the woman fell to the ground. The others went back to what they were doing even as blood pooled in the dirt below her.
The short man seemed content with the grave and motioned for the men to put her in. They followed the order, then the man with the shovel filled it back in. It was a few minutes more before the group left. The short man had gone through a dozen or so of those smoking sticks from the moment they got here until they left. The bigger men seemed… uncomfortable around him, for some reason.
One part of Arrelus wanted to attack them while they were here. They didn't seem that strong, and even if they were strength meant nothing if the proper spell killed you before you could connect a blow. The more practical part of him, however, decided it was better to watch and wait. After all, what if one of them was magically powerful? What if his magic didn't even have an effect on them? Perhaps they had a spell or an enchanted item that would negate Magicka?
That weapon the little man had used told him it was probably the better choice to watch and wait. Each of the other five seemed to have similar weapons strapped to their person. Some of them were the smaller type like the short man had, some were larger and looked like they would need to be held with two hands. Either way, if he was hit with the blast from one of those, could he survive? Arrelus didn't like the thought of it considering how much blood had accumulated on the ground in just a few minutes.
Several minutes after they left, Arrelus made his way to the shallow grave. He didn't have a shovel, and they'd taken theirs with them. He didn't like using magic unnecessarily, but the necromancer didn't think he'd really have a choice. Plus, he did have several potions if he needed them.
After some liberal usage of Telekinesis, his prize revealed itself. Grinning to himself, the necromancer placed his hand on the woman's forehead, pushing his magic into her brain. It felt as if there was… something blocking the usual process though. He figured it was just a case of him never having taken control of a corpse of her particular race though.
With a little extra Magicka, whatever was keeping him from properly turning her into a Thrall quickly disappeared. In the span of two blinks of his eyes, her memories came rushing into his own mind, finally giving Arrelus the Exile an idea of just what this place would offer him, and what would be forever out of his reach.
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Arrelus shivered violently as his spell worked its magic, so to speak. Removing his hand from the woman's body, he stood. Absorbing so many memories from something that actually had sentience was always… an experience. It looked like the woman was in her late twenties or so, based on what he had to sift through. At least the process was extremely quick.
Looking around the graveyard, he saw a sign at the very back and was satisfied when he could read the words 'Keep Out' in big, bold letters on it. Gaining fluency in languages he never had encountered was, of course, one of the best parts of digging around through the heads of said, it usually wasn't nearly as necessary in Tamriel.
As for that… the necromancer found it quite unfortunate that he had been so correct in his assessment. This was not Tamriel. He wasn't even on Nirn, based on what he had picked up. The woman was some sort of… courier. There were no nobles in this world, no mages, few warriors, but many bandits and monsters.
Something had happened over 200 years ago that left a once great empire in ruins. Great explosions of fire and poison ended that world and brought about this one. Only those hiding in underground fortresses survived, and the world seemed to be populated by their descendants, by those cursed by the bombs with immortality – which seemed to come along with madness – and by these strange troll-like creatures.
It did seem that magic was not impossible in this world though. It was just… extremely rare. The Courier seemed to have heard stories of powerful individuals who could affect reality in strange ways, 'psychics' as she referred to them as. This world seemed to have been so affected by the great explosions that certain individuals were empowered by the very thing that had destroyed so much.
However, that group of men likely didn't contain any of those individuals. They probably could have been killed without much effort. Truth be told, Arrelus didn't really care that much about them though. If he ran into them again, they'd become his soldiers.
Rather significantly, it seemed that the Aedra and Daedra either didn't exist in this world or were unknown. Arrelus sighed at that particular revelation. It was worse than he thought. It did explain why he couldn't feel any Magicka in the air though. He would be able to regain Magicka with just his innate regeneration, but without outside sources, it would be slow going.
Glancing down at the village whose graveyard he'd raided, an idea began forming. After a moment, he shook his head. There was no telling how many people were down there, or how many of these 'guns' they had. Sure, their weapons wouldn't keep them from dying to a Firebolt, but based on what the Courier's memories had told him, even just one of those bullets would put him down. He wasn't exactly a Master of Destruction Magic. Runes were probably the best potentially multi-target Destruction spell he knew. It would be best to do some scouting before anything else.
Arrelus found his thoughts were interrupted by a light groaning at his feet. Looking down, he noticed that his thrall was sitting on its own. Strange… he hadn't given it any commands. "What the-… Where am I?" As she spoke, Arrelus jumped back. Thankfully, again, Muffle kept any noise from being made. Curious, the mage cancelled his Invisibility and Muffle. The woman wasn't armed, and he was a mage, so he'd be fine if any violence ensued.
Closing his eyes, he found that he could still view the world through her eyes, but there was… something else in her head besides him. The… other entity seemed to be panicking heavily and guided the Courier's erratic movements as she looked around. It took a moment to realize but… it was the Courier herself!
"You're currently in a graveyard, specifically the one attached to the town of Goodsprings." Arrelus decided to make himself known. This was… it was completely uncharted territory! Everything about the Courier matched up with a Thrall, but she… was also alive? Her sentience hadn't disappeared completely. She seemed to be completely self-aware and still capable of independent communication and thoughts. Thoughts that he could hear.
Right now, those thoughts were a jumbled mess of remembering what 'the man in the checkered suit' had done and trying to figure out who he was. None of his studies had really prepared him for this. "Who… who are you? You weren't with the Khans and that man in the checkered suit."
"That's correct. My name is Arrelus. I happened upon you lot and dug you up after the… Khans, as you call them, buried your dead body. I brought you back, though I certainly wasn't prepared for this."
"You brought me back to life?" The Courier wondered. "But… I was shot in the head, wasn't I?" The necromancer nodded. She quickly moved her hand to the back of her head. The hole that that bullet had made was still there. Arrelus could tell she was about to scream, so he intervened.
"Silence." Despite the immense amount of fear in her eyes, the Courier's jaw refused to open, and her scream died immediately, unnaturally. "Only half of what you said was accurate. You were shot in the head, yes. However, I did not… 'bring you to life'. You are… well, I'm not quite sure what you are right now. I've never had a Thrall quite like you. Perhaps there was an issue with pushing Magicka into someone of this world? Or maybe… I'll need to look into this."
The woman looked very much like she wanted to ask something, so Arrelus mentally dismissed his previous order. "What… what are you saying? Am I… like one of those Ghouls?" When she said that, it brought up a mental image of both feral and conscious Ghouls to Arrelus' mind. It was all he could do not to physically recoil.
"Not on your life. Or your death. I need to figure out how to classify you. Regardless, you are not like them. It seems that you've got some will of your own, but any commands I give will be magically reinforced. Thankfully, you don't really have to worry about dying again though. I can just patch you up and you'll be good as new… or nearly." He then leveled his gave at her. "So long as you prove yourself useful, that is."
He could tell that the woman did hold a measure of fear towards him, which may or may not have been helped along by some… mental suggestions. It didn't take too long for Arrelus to get used to this new type of Thrall, since it seemed to work similarly to what he was used to. He'd need to test it out on other corpses though, to see if all of his Horde would be like this.
"Useful?" The Courier wondered. "What… sort of things do I need to be able to do?" She was sitting up now, looking up at him, clearly still disoriented.
"I'm… not from here. I'm not from the Mojave, I'm not from America, I'm not even from this world. I was using a ritual to contact a god from my world… and it was interrupted. So, I'm going to need someone that knows more about this world to help me get my bearings. I've already sifted through your memories, so I can at least speak and understand your language now, which is a vast improvement."
"You… did what?" The Courier grabbed her head, as if that would protect her thoughts. "Can you read my mind? You looked into all of my memories?" Just to show her exactly who was in charge, Arrelus thought very loudly, so she'd hear it. Why yes, I am inside your head. You are my undead servant now, and that means everything of yours is actually my property, including your thoughts.
The Courier looked very much like she might like to scream again, but she merely covered her mouth. "You're learning, that's good. Now, let's see… your name is… ah, Angela." Arrelus couldn't help but chuckle. It was apparently a name derived from the servants of this world's most powerful God, a being that seemed to be all of the Aedra combined and then some.
"Now then, Angela. Even though I've taken your memories, it does take some time to sift through them in any detail. Is there anything about this area I should know about? I recall something about a Legion and this Californian Empire, and that they are in a war?"
The Courier's eyes were still full of that fear, but her voice contained none of it as the order took effect. "The New California Republic is the strongest nation to the west, who founded their kingdom on the concepts of liberty and equality. To the east, though, a great conqueror named Caesar crafted his Legion from his conquests. They are both fighting over the Hoover Dam, a pre-war wonder that can generate functionally infinite energy. They probably both also wish to take New Vegas."
Angela stood and pointed in the distance towards a great, glowing tower. "That is New Vegas, a pre-war city of great infamy, known for being a gambling den. Mr. House runs it, but no one has ever seen him. I've only been once, for a delivery to Camp McCarran, the NCR base outside the walls. Currently, Mr. House and the NCR have an alliance. New Vegas is well protected by Mr. House's robot enforcers though, so it is something like a neutral zone."
Arrelus rubbed his chin in thought. There was a lot to figure out. He'd need a proper base of operations, somewhere to build up his strength that would be well protected. Somewhere that wouldn't anger the major powers in the area. He didn't want to be on their radar until absolutely necessary. Sifting through some of Angela's memories of the area, he blinked.
"What's this… prison? The New California Republic Correctional Facility? It was run by the NCR, but the prisoners revolted and took control of it? There's not much in your memories about it though." Glancing down at Goodsprings again, a new idea popped into Arrelus' head. "Maybe the locals will have more of an idea of what's going on with them. We'll need to do some proper scouting in the morning." Looking around one last time, he nodded. "Come, Angela. We'll head back to the cave for now, but we'll need to properly introduce ourselves to the good people of Goodsprings tomorrow."
Before they left, Arrelus used a bit more of his Magicka to cover their tracks. Telekinesis refilled the hole and packed the dirt in as naturally as possible. He then cast Invisibility and Muffle on himself. As he did, he noted that it seemed to also affect his new Thrall. Curious, most curious indeed. He would certainly need to look into exactly what the… unique qualities his new Thrall seemed to have.
Clearly, it was something that could be exploited to his benefit.
And that's it!
Our definitely-not-the-villain protagonist, Arrelus the Exile, seems to have made a new friend and has plans to help out his new neighbors in Goodsprings with any problems they might be having. Isn't he just so compassionate?
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Orpheus out! Ja ne!