Necromancy's Name

After a series of increasingly wintry days, the sun is shining once again despite the persistent cold. Here in the nobility district, Alexandria's gentry and aristocracy can be seen occasionally paying social calls upon each other, while servants are busy attending to the beautiful gardens and running errands. There is also a notable presence of City Watch, partly to keep peasant riffraff from sullying the appearance and ambience, and partly because the wealthy exercise greater influence in government and expect to receive quicker responses when emergencies arise.

As it turns out, one of the palatial mansions in the area is hosting a lavish event today, the wedding of the son and heir of the house to the daughter of a Dranei nobleman. The wedding ceremony itself has concluded by now, and the formal reception is under way. A blonde human man in the ceremonial robes of the Althean clergy walks out through the main gate and onto the cobblestone boulevard, smiling.

Iskandar is near the gate. A brief look of recognition flashes across his face and he raises a hand in greeting. He happened to be in the district on a social call himself, but found himself dawn towards the manor because: "I was just wondering what the festivities were about..."

Deak looks up at Iskandar's face then simoes in recognition. He says, "Oh, hi there. Yeah, so there was a fancy wedding, but it's over now and the party has taken over. I assisted the priestess who performed the official ceremony, then managed to succeed in a little effort of my own: I got commitments from several new benefactors to contribute to the funding of the Soldiers Defense hospital and to refugee relief in the new Arvek Nar town of Tref. After managing to do that, though, I decided I'd had enough. High society parties are outside my comfort zone, seeing as how I grew up in an orphanage myself."

Iskandar chuckles. "I think I know what you mean. A wedding, you say? Anyone I would know?" He pauses and then smiles seemingly at himself. "Although I have to admit, I can barely keep track of all of the noble families of Alexandria and their associations."

Deak says, "The groom is the heir of Lord Valeris, and the bride is some Dranei lady. I think her father commands a regiment of the Iron Tide and has commercial holdings in the airship industry."

Iskandar's eyebrows creep up. "Interesting. I have heard of the Valeris line, but the Dran commander doesn't ring a bell. I came to Alexandria only after the war between Rune and Dran ended," he explains. "Although I heard of it in my travels."

Deak nods. "Apparently the couple met at university in the Kingdom of the Lion where both were students. I was still serving as an acolyte in Rosalia during the war myself, but the diplomatic efforts of Sentinel Kira are still remembered in pride among the Althean clergy. I gather she met personally with the Dranei warlord and convinced him to break off the war. Of course the arrival of Heth gave both sides a common enemy, too." He grins nervously, as if not wanting to say the name of Heth very loudly.

Iskandar grows more somber and then nods in agreement. "Kira is a Sentinel? Hah. I would have guessed a Hearthguard. Although neither would explain her skill at fighting," he flashes another smile. "Not that your temple's clergy can't hold their own in battle," he quickly adds. "But Kira is beyond even many followers of Kor or Serriel that I've known..."

Deak chuckles. "I don't know her personally very well. She tends to spend most days distributing bread to the hungry, but from the rumors I've heard, as mighty a warrior as she may be, she abhors violence, well, against any but te undead, that is. Anyway, you seem like quite a formidable combattant, yourself."

Iskandar smiles and waves off the comment, although it's clear that he's pleased. "Men of renown must always be ready to fight," he finally replies. "For honor or for glory." He inclines his head in a nod. "Wisdom and helping others has its place as well, of course." He indicates Deak now, or perhaps more specifically the trappings he wears of the goddess Althea.

Deak smirks. He repeats, "For honor or glory..." then adds, "or for simple necessity. I've seen quite enough undead around here lately. The goddess has blessed me to work her cleansing power to the purging of too many of such abominations recently. The dead really should be left to rest, not be hijacked by conspiring and shameless necromancers!"

"Good day to you as well." There are not many Mul'niessa about, and Daed stands out in the crowd as he usually does. He's wearing something festive today, a garment in shades of red and a deep forest green so dark that it almost looks black until the light shines on it. The elf's words are a farewell to the woman he was speaking to and he turns away to notice Deak standing beside Iskandar. A warm smile slips across his features and he draws close to them, offering both a polite nod. "Greetings, I hope I am not intruding on your conversation, but did I hear you two talking about undead at a wedding reception?" He quirks an amused eyebrow.

Deak shrugs and cocks his head in consideration. He says, "I suppose that depends on how broadly you define the label. He is certainly able to raise hosts of wights." When Daed greets, he smiles and answers with a hint of embarrassment, "You did. I apologize. Such topics are unfit for such joyous occasions as this." He then turns back to Iskandar and adds, "I'm not honestly sure to whom to attribute the various recent outbreaks of the undead, but I assume necromancers are generally behind them, the Firstborn included." He clears his throat awkwardly, then takes a glass of lemonade from the tray of a passing footman.

Iskandar perks up slightly but then seems to cool when he sees there's nothing but lemonade and juice on the tray. "Could send wine?" he murmurs softly to the waiter, and the two exchange knowing nods before the latter heads off about his work. Iskandar turns back to Deak and Daechir and then smiles. "My name is Iskandar," he says, as introduction - or re-introduction if appropriate.

"And you may call me Daed." The elf offers his hand to Iskandar by way of greeting and smiles at Deak. "Your talk of undead is to me more appropriate than the constant political maneuvering which is taking place. More interesting as well. Though if I might ask, are you talking of one necromancer, or all of them?"

Deak says, "I'm Ragni, but everyone calls me Deak. Anyway, I was using the term loosely in reference to all who create and control undead. I think I heard tell of some house near this one that had some recent haunting. I wasn't involved personally, but rumors travel."

Iskandar stirs slightly. "I was referring to all necromancers," he remarks. "The very name refers to death, right? 'Necro'," he adds just to make sure there is no confusion. "Magic can be a wonderful thing, but just what the value of death magic is, beyond the nefarious...that I don't know."

"There have been many instances of undead in and around this city. For what purpose I can not say, but I can say this. Necromancy is itself not an evil form of magic. There is great purpose to speaking to the dead for instance. If someone is murdered a necromancer can speak with the body and find the identity of the murderer. Power is power, and people will use it for good or ill. It is simply that necromancy is so easily misused that it becomes a problem." Daed's words are smoothly spoken, and it's clear that he himself has some knowledge of magic to have such an opinion on it.

Deak raises an eyebrow, but says, "Yes. Even some of the spells granted to me are classified as necromantic by those who study spellcraft, but I think I'm justified in saying that most Alexandrians would consider an undead to be anathema and one who created it as a pariah. This isn't Charn, after all."

Iskandar rubs his beard. "So what you are saying is...even you are a necromancer, if you cast 'necromantic' spells?" He peers st Deak and the Dead for signs of agreement. "Or anyone?" The waiter from before reappears as if by a different sort of magic. Iskandar takes one of the silver goblets on the tray and leaves a small coin in its place.

Daechir's eyes darken slightly and he shakes his head. "No. I was simply stating that /necromancy/ is not evil. It is those that misuse it that become so." He lifts an empty hand and makes a gesture like he is shaking his own words away. "I hope you will forgive my words if I have somehow offended." Daed's gaze is on Deak now.

Deak relaxes and says, "It's a question of labels. Personally, I wouldn't consider just someone who happens to cast a spell now and then that is classified as necromantic to be a necromancer, any more than I would consider someone who writes a letter to be an author or someone who occasionally drives a wagon to be a teamster. To me, it has more to do with whether death magic is a particular focus of expertise or practice."

Iskandar nods, "Well said." He raises his goblet in a mock-salute. And then immediately takes a gulp. "Ah, excellent. So I suppose the real question is, what to call those who create undead. Those are the true villains. Even calling them Necromancers seems to miss the mark. And I suppose it risks catching those Necromancers who use their powers for good, in the same volley." Now he raises the goblet to Daed.

"I suggest calling all those that misuse their power - whatever the source of that power - for evil purposes the same thing. That way we do not tarnish the name of those practitioners who do not use their powers for the wrong reasons. I know that the word 'witch' means to many an evil user of magic, but true witches are not." Daed seems contemplative. "Words have power, and words misused have the power to turn the way we think about a thing.”

Deak hmms, and says, "The words are useful, but the intent of the heart is what really matters to me. Wizards spend great effort to craft their spells using words that combine carefully calculated sounds and senses, but not all who cast spells are so concerned with such matters. For many of the faithful, as well as those whose magic derives from the blood in their veins or the music of their souls, the words are merely an expression of the magic within. What the goddess inspires in me, her power works through me to direct." He adds, "Yes, words and names have power, but there are many forms of power, including the raw power of muscle and blade."

Iskandar raises his hands as if in surrender. Even the hand holding his drink; he somehow manages to grasp it with just two fingertips while his others spread and turn. All without spilling a drop. "Conceded!" he smiles. "Evil is evil and it is the duty of all true heroes to fight it no matter the form or the effect."

Daechir grins with a flash of white teeth and nods his head to Iskandar. "Indeed." He lets out a gentle laugh. "I apologize for derailing your conversation. I doubt you meant for it to go quite this way, but I rarely get to have such stimulating discussions." Red eyes flicker around the party and he makes a subtle motion to indicate the area while his expression becomes somewhat pained. "It is very tiresome to listen to such biting; genteel conversation."

Iskandar throws back his head and laughs. He gulps down the last of his wine. He almost throws the empty goblet back over his shoulder but then instead sets it down on a nearby pillar. "And do you spend much time in this district...?" He peers at the Mul curiously.

"I live near here in fact, and I have many aquaintences in the area." Daechir smiles. "I think they find me interesting, and while I find most of the politics to be tedious it is a game I learned at my grandmother's knee. And you? Do you live nearby?"

Iskandar says, "For the moment. I was 'invited' by a young son of a noble family I rescued on mission for the Explorer's Guild. His family only lets me stay because my mother was a chieftain. Far from here, true, but apparently it's enough for me to qualify in their eyes as a noble." He smiles but the expression doesn't quite reach his eyes. "The moment they need their guest house for a more prestigious visitor, I have no doubt I'll be once more living across the great river."

Daechir frowns. "I hope that your hosts are kinder than that. It would be terrible of them to welcome you into their home only to kick you out so. If such does happen though, consider letting me know. I at the very least can assist you in finding a place to stay." Daed smiles then, offering his hand to Iskandar.

Iskandar smiles and shakes the hand. "I'll keep that in mind!" He turns and heads off, waving away a coach to stride off instead on foot.

-End-