[CW] So you want to be a God? A public service announcement

Day 2,340, 08:53 • Published in Ireland Canada • by Foxfire

So I am touring around Conquest of Elysium 3 with my necromancer. Conquering some towns, mines, and the odd city. Damn dwarven raiders keep coming up from the south and stealing some stuff, while the general wild life of giant ants, wolves, the odd group of bandits need some dispatching. I have enough troops to hold what I have obtained but not enough to advance my dominion any further across the continent.

See Ted. Ted is dead. Raise Ted.

The handy thing about being a necromancer is you always have the option of raising a shambling horde of undead should you feel so inclined to do so. Of course this also has the cumulative effect of making you insane as one would figure in so performing the unnatural act of reanimating the deceased. Having your army Commander talking to the grass or chasing butterflies when it’s time to sack some cities is very inconvenient.

Welcome to the internship program

This however is easily remedied through some handy delegation though. Apprentices. Just as able minded, at least initially, to raise the undead, they are a handy source of extra ground support as needed. Of course zombies and skeletons are not the sturdiest of things and replacements are required faster than you would expect. This results in burning through a bunch of apprentices like you smoked through a pack of menthols while doing your taxes. As the straitjackets pile up and the third insane asylum is commissions you slowly recognizes that a more permanent solution is required.

Taking the Subway diet too far

The Lich. An undead sorcerer of incredible power. Not bound by those pesky constraints of moral quandaries and mental health issues. He is an undead raising machine. Now this is the instrument of my own Walking Dead utopia. One does not simply become a master of the unlife though. An ancient temple is required to perform this particular operation. We all must cross our Ts and dot our Is it appears, even the masters of the dark arts.

Sanctuary, sanctuary!

After scouring the country side for a temple (apparently region isn’t real big in the land of Elysium), I finally find one to perform my evil deed. After a quick check to see if I have enough hands, we are good to book our trip to undead Disneyland. Yes, that is hands as in body parts. Apparently hands are the going currency in the dark arts and to purchase the Ferrari of magical walking death many hands are required. How does one obtain such a thing as hands? Don’t ask.

Now that’s evil

Finally the day is here. The end of days that is. Arrived at the temple I am finally ready for my undead dispensing General of doom. Sucess! But wait... what is this? Apparently an even greater power lay within my grasp. The Demi-Lich! Could it be true? A half God Master of death! What powers would he possess? What unholy terror would he bring to my trembling enemies.

I quickly grab my prize.

Frequent flyer miles

Any vestige of mortal trappings falls away in a pile of bones. I am truly free of this plane of existence. What unearthly secrets have I gained. Immortality. Good, good. New spells, no. Odd, but whatever. The ability to raise truly horrifying armies of undead. No. Damn. That’s disappointing. What’s the upshot here? It looks like I am just an immortal pile of bones. Ah whatever, time to get out of here and back to the war.

Nope. Can’t move. Which makes logical sense as a pile of bones. So Demi Lich is an immortal pile of bones that can’t move. Woo and hoo...

But wait! Apparently I can walk some winds of the fates or some new age yoga spew. Riiiiight.

No, it looks like teleportation! Fantastic. This makes more sense. Tremble my puny mortal foes for death comes swiftly into your homes and it craves your soul! Ah ha ha ha.

Damn. That’s not where I wanted to go. Try this again. ... Nope. Is it broken? Apparently the winds of fate are the farts from the devil's ass, because this teleportation is completely random.

Third times a charm, annnnd I’ve teleported into an enemy city alone as a tiny pile of bones. Fantastic. What a steaming pile of mystical poop.

What the hell did I just read?

So as a large enemy army beats upon my immortal bone in futility (still immortal) and I slowly dispatch them with my accumulating dust of immobility it does occur to me that there is a lesson to be learned here.

As we seek an enlightened state of being we really do remove ourselves from mortal concerns. All mortal concerns, like chocolate ice cream, MMA fight night and glorious beer. If you should ever find yourselves with the career option of becoming a demi-god make sure you are equally prepared to also lose the ability to have any purposeful impact on the world that you leave behind. Less you become a completely random atom bomb of mystical death.


This public service announcement was brought to you by Clan Wolf, because you never know where a night of heavy drinking will take you.