A Necromancer in New Vegas
Chapter IX: Subtlety, or The First Strike
Arrelus rose well before the Sun. He was dealing with military men, so his assumption was that dawn would be their usual sign that the day was meant to start. Angela, of course, got to grumbling the entire time as they moved into position, but she didn't actually need to eat or sleep anyways. She was certainly a strange one. Still, he allowed her to speak her mind on the way towards Primm. It wasn't until the outpost was within sight that he stopped her complaints.
"They will be able to hear your whining if you continue much longer." There was no heat in his words, but the command was still clear enough. This was supposed to, at least partially, be a mission reliant on stealth. Though his magic could obscure her from sight, and silence her footsteps, he was not nearly skilled enough in Illusion magic to allow her to speak and keep all but himself from hearing the words.
"Fine." She gave in with relative ease, falling into silence. The necromancer nodded, having his Horde gather into position. They were under the effects of spells that made them invisibility and muffled. Considering the intel that Sergeant Lee had given him, Arrelus knew that it was imperative that he manage to get his Horde into Primm, as undetected as possible.
Though the Magicka cost for putting the spell on so many at once was draining, he should be able to get more than his fill back from the souls of the NCR and Powder Gangers in the area. If the number of potential hostiles in the area was even half of what Lee thought, he'd be more than able to break even. He just needed to make sure that the NCR, who were better armed according to Lee's memories, wouldn't cripple his Horde before he could get after the Powder Gangers.
Arrelus was no fool. He understood that the NCR would, more likely than not, fire upon his Horde if they could see them, without waiting for justification or asking questions. Even if they were not recognized for undead, they still wore the uniforms that the Powder Gangers had kept. Whether that was out of a sense of communal pride, or a lack of any accessible alternative though, the mage couldn't say for sure.
So, he really had very little choice in the matter. There was but one viable option to get his Horde close enough to Primm to tie up the loose ends that were the rest of the Powder Gangers.. The NCR would need to disappear. Word was unlikely to get back to the Californian Empire if he used stealth, magic and coordinated his Horde properly. There must be no survivors.
Holding out his hand as they came upon their destination, Arrelus instinctively began the process of conjuring a Bound Dagger. It had been one of his favorite spells if and when he needed to take someone out quietly, aided quite well with liberal applications of illusion magic. It was only after he began the spell that he realized that it might be a bad idea to try and summon a Daedra considering he had no idea what his relation to Oblivion was.
Before he could end the spell, however, a dagger did appear in his right hand. Curious, Arrelus inspected it. There didn't seem to be any differences between the one he held and any other time he'd used that particular spell. It did require quite a bit more Magicka to summon it than he had expected, but not so much that it invalidated its use. Now that it was actually in his possession, he could also feel the steady stream of Magicka he instinctively poured into it to keep it anchored to this Plane. There didn't seem to be a discernible difference in the amount of Magicka required to maintain its presence here as when he was in Mundus. Arrelus found his interest piqued, but merely filed the information for later. After he finished things here in Primm there would be plenty of time to experiment.
The Horde remained outside as Arrelus moved forward. Angela was the only one he brought alongside him. Though not strictly necessary, it would make taking the outpost much quicker to have her along. She knew not to bring out her revolver. Instead, she had equipped herself with a rather large knife. There were two guard towers in the camp that had excellent vantage over the main road through Primm in both directions.. From a quick glance, they were clearly hastily constructed as the outpost was obviously recent and ad-hoc. If anything they served more as lookout points to keep an eye on the convicts and roads, rather than provided points of fortified monitoring. The camp itself was not very effective as a staging ground considering the dismal failure of their attempt to retake the prison. Well, he supposed, in their defense, they were woefully unprepared for a mage of his caliber, or of any caliber for that matter, so perhaps it shouldn't be held against them.
Angela left his side momentarily to take care of the guard in the watchtower responsible for keeping a lookout the way they had come in. He would take care of the other one. It was important to remove them first, so they couldn't alert anyone whenever they made their way into the tents.
The 'watchtower' that Arrelus ascended was actually what appeared to be once be a house, with the roof and many walls falling apart from disrepair. Angela's was a mishmash of wood and metal scaffolding, so at least this one offered more cover and concealment. The trooper here had a pair of binoculars in hand, with some sort of drink on the table next to where he was sitting. It didn't smell of alcohol, so at least he wasn't necessarily so incompetent as to drink while on watch. He never stood a chance and had but a moment to struggle as the necromancer placed one hand over his mouth and brought his blade across his throat. His strangled cries of pain were far too quiet for anyone to have heard them.
As the corpse fell to the floor, Arrelus could feel his life energy traveling from his body and into the dagger he held. The Soul Trap spell was quite useful, but also flashy, and he wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible. That was why he'd gone and summoned this dagger without thinking. He was quite familiar with taking the souls of his targets through Bound weapons, and this method allowed him to do so without the spectacle that the spell might cause. Even just this man's soul was enough to make up for summoning the weapon, so it was already a worthwhile investment in his book.
Moving back down the stairs, Arrelus met Angela once more between the two so-called towers, standing before the bridge that connected to Primm. "According to the Sergeant's memories," he explained while pointing to said bridge, "there are a number of mines to keep the Powder Gangers from crossing over. I will take care of the troopers and officers. Disarm them so that I can send the Horde into Primm to take care of the bandits. If you finish before I do, feel free to scavenge through whatever supplies and munitions the outpost has for anything you feel will be useful. The Horde will take everything back to the prison when we depart, however, so there is no need to get overzealous."
Angela blanched at her order. "You know, just because I technically know how to do something, and you can put me back together if I make a mistake doesn't mean you have to force me to do it. Just because I supposedly can't actually die now doesn't mean I want to explode into a million sentient pieces if I fuck up."
"I haven't ordered you to do it." Arrelus pointed out. He hadn't actually magically reinforced any order he'd given the one-time courier in quite some time. For the most part he just asked Angela to do something, and she would, even if she had a tendency to grumble about it.
"Yeah, but if I don't, then you will." She sighed, looking towards the bridge. "Alright, alright, I'll do it. At least have those zombies have some good food ready back at the prison before we get back." With that, she was already off. Arrelus wasn't against giving such a mental order to the portion of his Horde that were guarding their base of operations, so he made a mental note to do so as they were heading back.
For the moment though, it was more important that he take care of the occupants of the outpost. Turning his back to the bridge, Arrelus cast another spell. The Magicka coursed through his body before gathering behind his eyes and opening his vision as the effects of Detect Life took hold. He could feel Angela jump a moment before she began to piece together what he'd done, so left her to her own devices.
More importantly, the necromancer made his way closer to the center of the camp. There were several large tents arranged in a semi-circle around a much larger one. The smaller of the tents appeared to act as barracks, each sleeping six or so bodies. The larger one was likely the command post – only two people were in that one and they were both awake.
Stepping into the furthest left of the tents in the semi-circle, Arrelus looked around. Bedrolls were arranged along the walls, each one filled with a different Trooper. Gripping his knife in hand once more, the mage acted more as a member of the Dark Brotherhood than a former member of the College, his actions well-practiced. Kneeling before the first of his victims, one hand covered the mouth of the sleeping man at the same moment his blade punctured chest and heart. Applying generous pressure to both points, his victim hardly had time to realize his own demise as his life essence, and soul, left through the open wound.
The rest of the men and women in the tent, and the other sleeper tents, met their demise in much the same way. There were maybe twenty troopers, not counting the guards in the watch towers, whom he slayed over the span of perhaps two minutes, if that. As unaccustomed to magic as they were, they were even less well-defended than the average bandit camp back in Skyrim. All that left was those gathered in the central tent.
It was quite easy to enter without arousing suspicion from the two occupants. They seemed rather concerned with the paperwork on the table before them and didn't appear to have even nearly enough focus to spare that they might've heard the rustling of the tent flaps. He recognized the pair from Lee's memories as Lieutenant Hayes and Sergeant McGee, the leading officers at the outpost.
The necromancer hadn't been terribly worried about the grunt, but he was at least interested in these two. He was, of course, going to come back to the outpost to replace any losses to his Horde with foot soldiers of the Californian Empire. They simply had better equipment than the convicts of the NCRCF. Even before doing that though, the memories of these two would likely better serve Arrelus in gaining some context about the war he found himself in the middle of.
The pair were quiet. It was a contemplative silence better suited to the mourners of a funeral than the officers of a military expedition. The expressions on their face, half-illuminated in the candlelight that allowed them to go over the writings before them said more about their hopelessness than any words might have. For his part, Arrelus could not manage to dredge up even a miniscule amount of empathy for them. They were obstacles to his survival.
It was with that in mind that he made his way to the Lieutenant and threw his invisible hand over the man's mouth as he shoved the dagger stained with so much of his comrades' blood right into his back. Though Hayes had a sharp and sudden intake of air as his lungs tried to fill, McGee would not have heard it. Arrelus had picked up more than a few tricks in his time in the wilds, and masking something like that was simple enough with a minor Illusion spell.
McGee did finally look up from what appeared to be some sort of transcription of a radio transmission when his superior officer's corpse hit the ground. "Lieutenant? Are you alright?" He peered over the table, eyes widening as the pool of blood gathering on the ground became apparent. It was of no use though as Arrelus had already made his way behind the Sergeant and slit his throat, staining all of their papers with even more blood when he fell forward onto the table.
Hopefully by the time he finished raising all the new members of his Horde, Angela would be finished with her own task. He could, at the very least, grant these soldiers the means to complete their last mission. They would be far more effective in death than they ever were in life.