Originally Posted by Tysyacha
((Are you resurrecting Yery? If so, Yery is a female gnome. If not, then carry on!))
((Nay, just a random dead man
It was a most unusual way of resurrecting someone, for sure. The process of waking someone from death was shrouded in mystery for the uninitiated, but truth was virtually no ritual was necessary – save in some very special cases. All you needed was deep knowledge of the target and that of the art of Necromancy. The rest was taught in grimoires, by the damned old sages at academies and by one owns experience. Had those conditions been fulfilled, all that was needed was a single significant gesture and life flown back at the dead. That was Anita’s way.
The man sat on the floor, underpinned by his arms, panting heavily. He still had a cadaveric paleness and his eyes were almost popping out. Anita had little doubt he would be sweating bullets if he had any liquids left on his body. He tried to talk but no voice would come, instead, he was whooping a dry cough. That condition wouldn’t do. She took a small, plugged vial with a sky blue liquid inside that was tied up to her belt and took off the plug. She then offered it to the Reborn man who drank it instinctively in a whiz. He dropped the empty vial as he took his hands to his mouth. All of a sudden, he was sweating and color came back to his skin and lips. He took a few moments to recollect himself before asking that inevitable question:
“What happened?” he asked, with an obtrusive look on his face as he skimmed through Anita’s face.
“You were dead until a few moments ago,” she answered plainly, “If you’re back to the realm of the living it’s thanks to me.”
The man knew she was speaking the truth. He remembered his last moments before that… thing they were keeping down there came in a flash and killed everything that attempted to fight back and everybody that tried to save themselves from the carnage. He was part of the last group and had no shame on admitting it. He was merely a gate guard, paid to watch the entrance to the facility, check credentials, keep tabs on who came in and out and, most importantly, fend intruders from the outside. If something like that came from inside
the mountain then it was outside his jurisdiction – and paycheck.
“Then indeed, thank you,” he said to her, trying to get on his feet.
But before anything else could be said, another male voice was heard. A young man holding a wrench on both hands stood menacingly down the hallway leading deeper into the cave. But despite that, Anita didn’t see the need to draw her holstered short sword just yet. He wanted a name and a purpose.
“That is Anita Baudelaire, plunderer,” she told him with her severe expression unchanged, “My businesses here in none of yours’, but I assure you they’re different from whatever you have on your agenda. Loot away, I won’t interfere… provided you care to answer a single question.”