Hungry Necromancer

I ran till I was out of breath and the villagers were out of sight, merely a stick figure in the distance I put between us.

In my spring I came across the river Anselm spoke of. There was a bridge over it, it was large, wide and made of stone. It was so wide I could guess its purpose; to carry an army. However, the squabbles of the village weren't my concern. The river was.

It was appallingly filthy; all sorts of debris floated in it, sandals, clothes, wooden plates and bags of what I guess was shit. I'd never seen anything like it and I'd lived in a cave for the better part of my time here. I doubted it could even be filtered.

I collapse to the floor, albeit hesitant to do so as it was so close to the dirt river. I'm completely spent from my run, as well as my hopes being dashed to the wind at ever turn in this damned world.

Again, I had to seek out a means to survive and as it turns the only humans- Alive- couldn't help me. In fact, it's just the opposite. I'd seen enough alien invasions on TV to know when something strange and unnatural wanted to absorb my consciousness. I intend to keep my distance.

But how? How do I survive?

I don't know how far away the nearest village or town is, preferably one without a populace seeking to absorb me into their hive mind. But I certainly doubt it was an hour away.

I walked and ran all the way here with hopes of food, water, shelter and even companionship- One can only speak to ghost for so long.

"And now I'm stuck fearing for my life." I pant out, exhausted. "Summon spirit." I lift up my hand and carelessly shoot the green ball of mana. I discovered Anselm was always ready to be summoned during my journey here. No need to expend my mana on two spells just to summon him.

"You've got really shit luck." Is his first comment.

I groan and sit up, shifting away; the stench of the river becoming unbearable.

"Are all the villages in this place like this?"

He gives me a strange look and I recall I hadn't confessed to not being an indigene of the fucked up shattered lands.

"You say that like you're not from here." He shrugs, "Well, you might not be. I don't know how strange things are on the other continents either."

"Whatever, I can't remember anything about anything Okay? Let's leave it at that." I shoot him the I won't summon you again glare and he is quick to nod.

"To answer your question…I don't know. I've heard of cults that practice such magic, forcing souls into one and moving about in service to some demon or the other. But a whole village?"

He looks troubled by the thought, I bite my cheek; he's almost as ignorant about the world as I am, chances are I would receive no helpful counsel from him.

"Do you still see no animals in the fields?"

He floats up, circling about in the air, poking his head towards all corners before floating down with a sour look. "What are you going to do? The only animals out here are the ones in the village, and you don't seem keen on moving close to those guys."

No. No, I'm not. But what other choices did I have? Keep marching and hope to encounter a village not infested with soul binding cultists? Or turn back to the cave where there was a tribe of angry goblins guarding the only water source?

My stomach growls in protest and my throat itches at the thought of having a sip of water before being smashed to a pudding

I got on my feet and pointlessly dust off my torn-up warlock robes. I saw only one viable option, frightening as it is to think of it as the only viable option, alas it's the truth.

"I'm gonna steal a sheep or two."

***

I am quick to forgive myself ignorance for I have never stolen sheep or cattle before. Luckily, I had someone to bounce off ideas, someone with a lot more experience with farm life.

With Anselm's exemplary aid we manage to conceive a plan that hopefully wouldn't get us killed. Get me killed. It constantly skips my mind that Anselm wasn't technically alive.

Either way, his bit of knowledge tells me that when I grab at the sheep, I should hold its hind legs together like I was squeezing dough.

This of course, is so I don't get my balls turned to paste. He also tells me I should try my very best to make a quick run for it the moment the rest of the herd catches a glimpse of me, a stranger, in their pen, making away with one of their own. According to him it wouldn't end well.

Though a lot of this conflicted with my base knowledge of sheep as the human loving fluffy dream inducing animals, I wouldn't doubt him nor test his words. I'd already seen goblins and a village full of brain-dead people, I was going to be in a believe the impossible mood for the foreseeable future.

I head out to capture a sheep, I didn't have to tiptoe or walk carefully against the gravel ground, I'm barefooted and I'd honestly gotten numb to pains on my feet with all I've been through.

However, I do have to swerve under a few stashes of hay and houses but with Anselm acting as my eye in the sky I didn't find it too difficult to get to the pen.

There are three pens, one had a lot of sheep, about six or seven, another housed cattle with the same number. The last was a mix, it had two cattle's and two sheep in this was not the pen I was going in.

The last pen was full of the male of each specie, I guess a breeding practice in animal husbandry, either way, the bull in said pen was not looking friendly.

I hop over the fence into the sheep pen, it stood around my chest so I had to do a bit of climbing. The sheep didn't make much note of my presence in the pen, some look like they want to approach but stop halfway as the sniff the air and returned to their grazing.

Either they didn't recognize my smell or the knew by my smell I could offer no treats.

This was good however.

I unlock the pen from the inside and out- tight security- and let the fence gate swing open before going ahead to stalk my next meal.

Following the advice, I was given, I launch my hands at the hid legs of the closet sheep, pulling them together and in the process making the animal squeal and fall.

Instantly it begins to bleat and kick its hind legs. I find its push surprisingly powerful but I had no time to admire its desire to live; I let one hand hold onto its legs and my other grab its neck as I begin to stand and make my way out through the fence gate I left open.

As I make my escape the sheep in the pen are quick to follow behind, at first, I am nervous at their attack but they charge right past me and to their freedom. The bull and male sheep moo and bleat at me, likely begging to be set free as well but…that's not my intent.

With Anselm in the air he guides me away from aimless walking hive villagers on the streets and without any fanfare I make it out safe and unnoticed.

"Swe-!" He cheers just before fading out of existence.

I let the sheep down and cast Summon Spirit again.

"Sweet!" he grins, "Mission accomplished!" I ignore his cheers and point at the sheep making a break for it and he complies, jumping into its body and putting a halt to the furry creature's escape.

He walks it back to me before jumping out of its body, leaving the animal looking shaken. "Now if only you had water."

"If only I had a lot of things." I frown, I'm getting tired of having nothing and barely scraping it through.

He takes on that fake musing look that told me he'd thought about what he was about to say and was going to argue for it, "You could rob them."

I bite my cheek and stare at the still paralysed sheep at my feet. Scurrying through the village I was privy to many windows, and in those windows were many things I could do with and the cult of whatever evil spirit could do without.

I had thought about it. More than once even. In fact, I was so desperate for a break I regretted not being powerful enough to wipe out the goblins and hoped the humans of the village I encounter would be weak enough to subjugate.

I needed resources not just mana and HP. Even though this world plays like an RPG its actually an RTS and resources were the priority.

"Fuck it. What do you have in mind?"