Ravenwood (Original Setting)

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Ravenwood is my personal setting, a pet project of 16 years, and this is the first story I've properly written for it. I have run D&D games in it, made a Jump for JumpChain with it, and have a small community on my Discord for it. It is also a spiritual successor to my Miasma storyline, taking much of the original character and porting it over to my personal setting.

I hope you enjoy the tale.
Prologue
Location
New England
They were merely a servant. At least, they were supposed to be. Made by a necromancer a long time ago. They'd lived for centuries at this point, subjugated by the necromantic power of their creator, having built a slow resistance over that time to allow them some measure of independent thought... it had been so long.

They didn't even have a name, their creator simply used necromancy to call them.

And now... they stood over the decrepit corpse of what used to be their creator, they had died in their attempt to become an undead, unsuccessful.

They were... free? In a sense... yes. And no. Their creator had called them in their panic as they failed, leaving a final order. They had to stand here, and wait. Trapped by their creator's final order.

They roiled, their liquid body bubbling in a feeling no longer suppressed by their creator's will. Anger.

In a moment, the liquid of their body changed. Bone, muscle, and tendon grew into a blade, and simply bisected their former creator... then continued to chop into them, until a puddle of meat and viscera was all that was left.

The anger left with each swing until they were empty of it. The order was still there, to remain, to stay. To wait. They were still trapped.

The blade of bone and flesh dissolved back into liquid.

They were tired. So very tired. Centuries in servitude, under the control of another, unable to express themselves, and now that their oppressor was dead, they were still subject to their whims.

They looked at the brutalized remains... then at the room around it. May as well read a few of these books. The order would fade in time. Until then... they had nothing better to do.

So, they slithered over to a shelf, grabbed a book, reshaped their mass into a more useful body, and began to read.

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The order had been enforced with a great deal of necromantic power, it would take a long time for the order to fade.

It had been well over three weeks now.

They were still reading. They'd found a lot on alchemy, bloodline creation, necromancy, a bit about psionics, and even a little bit of information on druidic magic. Their creator had never used druidic magic, why was there anything on it here?

That mattered little, though; they'd found a journal, their creator's journal.

Their creator had been experimenting with bloodline creation and incorporating them into undead in an attempt to alter their eventual lich form. They'd failed, obviously, but their research had yielded some fruit. There were details on bloodline elixirs being incorporated into the creation of bloodboil and changing its manifestations.

Alchemy. Could it... could it allow them to resist necromantic control? Could they escape with this? They had more reading to do.

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Six months. The order was still strong. Did their creator use all of their necromantic power in this order? They didn't know.

Between their studies on alchemy and reading their creator's journal, they'd practice some necromancy, drawing from the putrefying corpse of their creator, which was a fairly potent source of necromantic power at this point in time.

There wasn't much they could do with it. Bloodboil shades such as themselves were surprisingly lacking in an affinity for necromancy, but they were pushing through it. They had the time.

Ingredients were a problem. While they were studying alchemy, the lab's supplies were mostly rotten by this point. Only the dried materials were still good, and they were losing potency. They were limited in what they could practice with; in quantity, quality, and variety.

They would need to be careful with their practice, if they even did. Mistakes would be costly until they were free from their creator's orders. Fortunately, they were patient and used to such things.

Still, that would need to wait.

They'd found something more in the journal. Their creator had experimented with more than just bloodlines, but also with alternate cores for bloodboil shades... as well as how to potentially integrate them into existing bloodboils to grant them additional abilities. Nothing they could *use*, but something of interest nonetheless.

Why was their creator so obsessed with bloodboil shades? It was the only undead he experimented with, and the only ones he kept as his personal guard.

They were confused.

The book made it seem like he cared, but his actions spoke otherwise. They didn't understand.

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There was more than just technical manuals in this room, they found. Stories, fictions, and tall tales lined the shelves as well. Reading them... they felt a want beyond their freedom.

It had been over a year since they'd been trapped by their creator's orders, and they'd taken to reading some of these stories. And now... they wanted a name. No, more than a name, they wanted an identity of their own. A name was only a small part of that.

The downside was... names were hard.

Luckily was a mirror in this room. They could work on their appearance, but that was more a part of something else; choosing how they presented themselves.

They found themselves drawn to certain characters, and wanting to emulate them, so they... no, she. She chose more about herself.

It was something that took several months, between study sessions, to get right. Several times she had to start over entirely, but eventually... she settled on something all her own. White hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and features of an elf and a dwarf. There was a connection to the form, it felt right. All the others didn't really click for her, this one did.

She was starting to feel the orders weaken. They would be a while yet, but... she was finally feeling like there was a light at the end of the tunnel.

Her name was a sticking point. More so than her appearance. None of them felt right. It took a long time, but, she eventually settled on a name. Maya Indigo. It rang well in her head and she could work with it easily enough.

It was shortly after she picked out her name that she found a book on gods, encountering one in particular that brought her a bit of interest. Syrra, the Goddess of Bloodlines.

Bloodboil shades were made with blood, it was integral to their creation, and with some simple experimentation in the rites, Maya found the blood incorporated into her creation could awaken minor abilities within herself.

All eight of the common races, several varieties of beastfolk, and a single drop of blood from an unidentified supernatural creature... they were all included in her creation. And she knew how to make more bloodboil, which she could incorporate into herself.

With the both rites that the book had from Syrra, Maya found she was able to access some features of the common races within herself, temporarily and one at a time, but it was something she could do beyond her capacity as a bloodboil shade.

She wasn't sure of it, but she thought that using the rites seemed to speed up the rate at which the orders on her degraded. At the current rate, she'd be trapped for a few more months, and that would be it. She'd be able to leave. She'd be free! At long last.

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Her creator's corpse was gone, only bones remained. Except, they weren't all that remained. A small, black sphere remained as well, within the ribcage. It was something he thought would help with becoming an undead. Clearly it had failed.

She'd read through his journal dozens of times by now, and there was little on it. Only an oblique reference to a core and something about a mire. It was supposed to be able to help with his necromantic abilities, enhancing them so he... wouldn't need to collect more?

There was little else in the journal about the artefact.

Speaking of the journal she wasn't sure what to think of her creator. At many points he seemed to switch from being affectionately inclined towards her, while other times he was disparaging or clinical. It was like he was expecting something of her and would sometimes see it, while other times not.

It was confusing. She hated him. But she couldn't comprehend his feelings towards her, because he didn't seem to know himself.

She sighed and sat back down, books discarded for the moment. She needed to rest. She was weary of reading after so long of only that. She was not used to being so drained. The downsides of having *biology*. The upsides outweighed the downsides though.

It was... about time she started to experiment. Hands on experience was so much more important and valuable than the theoretical knowledge she currently possessed.

That in mind, she went to the lab where she had written down a recipe within her creator's journal so long ago. A final iteration of something he'd been working on, one he claimed would be a boon to any undead, but especially to a bloodboil like herself.

It was time to act rather than prepare.

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Alchemy was a new skill for Maya, despite having spent so long learning it in theory, she was not well practiced in actually performing it. However, she had the advantage of being able to shape her biology to be ideal for her purposes. It gave her incredibly steady hands and precise movements. It made it so she could actually perform the instructions with relative ease. The hardest part was actually timing.

She'd found time constantly blending together for the entire time she has existed, and the only thing that let her keep track of the passage of time was the light of day and dark of night. Otherwise, she couldn't estimate how long an hour was, how long a minute.

Fortunately, she had some sandglasses to measure time with.

Her first experiment was... successful, technically speaking. She made the elixir as described in the journal. However, she knew she'd done poorly. With no practice, she was still hesitant and had to spend time to keep track of things. In doing so, she lost time. A distinct lack of familiarity moving around the lab and where things were made it hard to go quickly.

Still, it was a success. The enhanced physical abilities she was able to create in her form allowed her to compensate and ensured she wasn't wasting her efforts. It just wasn't as good as it could be since the potion, supposed to be a faint, transparent blue green, was slightly opaque. The journal described that as a "defect that would reduce overall capacity, but not impact the potency of the final product," which she understood to mean it would be just fine for her purposes.

She wouldn't be able to use it though. The chance something went wrong and the uncertainty of the outcome, with a possibility of her expiring, meant her orders prevented her from consuming it on the off chance it killed her.

But it was done. She just needed to wait. It also let her use an artefact her creator called a potion condenser, which would "age" the elixir to be better.

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There was a final thing to try. The journal had described a bloodboil being able to absorb and benefit from cores, orbs of a stony or glassy material.

She looked at the black orb laying within the bones of her master.

It was almost certainly a core itself. And one that must have been potent if her creator was using it, and had been for long enough that he'd taken it into consideration during his transition to undeath.

With an unnecessary breath, Maya walked to her creator's bones, and picked up the sphere of stone. She could feel a slight vibration from it. She allowed her hand to partially liquefy and absorb the core.

It traveled into her body and sat adjacent to her existing core of onyx. At first, there was nothing. Then she prodded at it with her existing core, and the two fused.

Suddenly there was power thrumming through her. Several types that she could barely identify, and some she flat out couldn't. One, though, was easy to identify. Necromantic power. So integral to her own existence, it was easy to identify, and it was invigorating!

She felt the connection to her creator's orders degrade just a bit faster as the necromantic energy flowed into her.

A week. That was all it would take to be free. Seven days. Just seven more days... there was a thrill of anticipation, but also anxiety. She wanted freedom, but... what would she do with it?

She didn't know. And now... she had little time to ponder it.

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Days left. It was all she had. And she... was paralyzed with indecision. Up until now, she'd had a goal of sorts. Now, that goal was fast approaching its end, and she... simply didn't know what she'd do next.

Maya read. Not the technical books on alchemy or the primers on psionics, or even the journals her creator had collected or penned. No, she read something else. The very thing that had inspired her to take on a name and identity of her own.

Stories. Fiction. Pure entertainment. And inspiration.

It was indulgent, but with the direction of things, she needed the distraction without the stress of trying to work through the notes her creator had left behind.

She read a story of a strange creature capable of parasitizing the gods through the destruction of holy icons, feeding on them as the gods waged war against the creature's creators, eldritch gods of a different sort... and the gods were losing.

It was an interesting tale, but it didn't help her much. A great foe to face off against was a fine motivator, but it wasn't one she could have in her current state, nor would she want such.

She moved onto another book. A day passed.

A thief turned business man scamming his way through life, exploiting nearly everything he could get his hands on, until it came back to bite him, all for greed. A cautionary tale. But one that didn't help her find something.

Another tale, another day gone.

Set out amongst the stars, ships of metal and sunlight sailing through the aetheric currents in search of a great treasure, led by a map held within a puzzle box only one could open. The relation between the protagonist and the main antagonist, a father and son relationship turned sour... only to show they still cared in the end. It... she enjoyed the story, but didn't want to dwell on its meaning.

Another day, another story.

This story was different. A tyrannical rule, a small break of the rules, and an end that left Maya feeling empty as the man was brought to heel under their oppressors. She didn't like it.

Only one day remained. Another story, possibly her last before she left.

This one... it didn't quite call to her, but it showed her a concept behind something she'd read before. The journey is more important than the destination.

Maybe... finding her purpose could be that journey?

Yes. That would do. She'd find her purpose, no, her desires and goals beyond mere survival, and she'd make them happen. It was a good way to do it. Her purpose was done, with the death of her creator, her purpose fell with him. Now, now it was only her own goals, no purpose, but what she desired instead.

She just had to find her desire.

As the new day dawned, she felt the necromantic power enforcing her stay finally grow faint enough that they snapped the moment she went against them.

She was free. At long last.

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AN: And yes, her name is a reference to my Miasma storyline. She is very similar in some ways to the MC of that story, it felt fitting for them to share a name.
 
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Chapter 1 - Beyond These Walls
AN: Title of this chapter is a reference to Beyond These Walls by Miracle of Sound. Like doing this sort of thing so expect it to happen semi-often

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Maya took in a shuddering breath as she felt the orders finally snap off her, finally giving her the freedom to leave this place. She'd been stuck in this one room for so long, and now she could move beyond it. She could even go beyond the walls of this manse, something she'd never been able to do under her creator's orders, long standing as they were.

Finally free, she was nearly paralyzed by indecision. Being so constrained and confined for so long... if she hadn't been preparing for this moment, she was sure she'd have just... sat in this room for a few weeks more.

That being said, she only had so much planned for what was to come.

'First thing's first,' she thought to herself, 'the elixir.' She walked over to the place she'd stored it, where it was in the condenser, and took a look. The elixir had cycled only thrice in the nine days it had been in the artefact. It had changed color and now had a mild glow to it, a perfect indicator that she had succeeded in actually making something usable. The glow was faint, though, which meant it wasn't very strong.

She sighed. She'd either have to stay until it got strong enough, which could take months, take it now, which would result in her getting something, but not having much power behind it, or leave it behind and just go without. And she wasn't going to stay.

She could come back.

That in mind, she decided to leave it. For now. It would be a long time before she came back.

With a steadying breath she didn't actually need, Maya left the room that had been her prison for over a year. The corridors were clean, and she could see why. Skeletons, of the mindless variety, walked the halls and cleaned them with various cleaning supplies, just as they always had. And she could see the tethers holding them to that. Frayed, but still in place, and likely would be for some time.

Briefly, she wondered if she could use her newfound source of necromantic magic to control them, but she shook her head. Her creator likely had something in place to prevent another necromancer from just taking over. He was cautious like that. It was also likely why his orders were only frayed rather than completely snapped.

She didn't want to trigger such defenses herself.

Gather supplies, on the other hand, was something she could do very easily.

A brief pause to blink as a thought struck her... 'is Quartermaster Haava still here?'

She smiled at the thought and went looking. Haava was one of the few she could legitimately say was a friend here, a thrall that had been elevated and augmented on several occasions before they'd been converted into something greater. It would be good to see them again. Though, they may be surprised about her new, self-assigned identity.

Maya walked the halls easily, having done so for centuries, even if she'd been trapped for the last year. She remembered every last bit of this place, every nook and cranny she'd found a way to get through.

Descending to the ground level took a bit of time. She could have simply climbed down out one of the windows in her ooze-like form, but, she was savoring the moment before she had to leave and face the reality of her situation. She was resolved to what was to come, but there was a deep uncertainty and fear of it as well. Maya had never truly been outside the Manse, let alone the walls around it, and she wasn't sure what she'd find beyond those walls. Fear of the unknown, as she'd read, was the most primal of fears... and it would seem, even the undead felt it.

That wasn't to say she wasn't looking forward to it, just that her nerves were playing merry hell with her motivation at the moment.

Finally, she reached the ground level. 'Three rooms over,' she thought as she moved, going through a corridor and passing two doors before coming across the one she wanted. 'Would Haava still be here?' he'd never been under the same restrictions as she had, he may have left already.

Well, she still needed some supplies. And this was the room to get them.

She opened the door.

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Beyond the door was a simple room with an opening in the wall, a waist-high counter, and a lockbox. Behind it was an armchair that Maya knew was in one of the lower studies, and in that chair was the familiar form of Haava. A mostly skeletal form with carefully tailored muscle stretched over them, their skull mostly uncovered and covered in runes inlayed with bronze and stones, and a pair of large obsidian orbs in their eye sockets. Their hand covered their eyes.

The room itself was dusty and uncared for, unlike the halls outside. She'd never seen Haava slack off before...

"Haava?" Maya called out, giving herself a red tinge across her face so he'd recognize her as a bloodboil shade the moment he saw her.

The undead groaned and looked over, then froze, "who are you?" his voice was more gravelly than she remembered, almost a growl, "one of the 'master's' new creations?"

Maya breathed in and smiled, "I know it's been a while Haava," she started, getting a start out of the thrall, "but I'd think you'd recognize me."

A tilt of the head, and a confused pause, then, "Little Red?" he asked, finally focusing on the red across her face.

Maya nodded, "though I go by Maya, now."

Haava didn't react at first, then stood up and, slowly, walked over, "I thought... I thought he'd destroyed you," he said, softly, "where have you been all this time?"

"The tower lab," she said, "he did something and... he failed. He sent an order for me to get there and... I'd been trapped by that order all this time. He's gone, Haava. He died," she never used his name when talking to the other undead. She hadn't used his name for a long time.

"All this time..." he started to shake, and Maya knew he was laughing. But... she placed a hand on him.

She could feel it, his necromantic energy, and it felt... not weak, but, disheveled, "are you alright, Haava?"

He looked up at her again, no longer shaking, "all of us felt the power roll off him, and you went missing, we thought... we thought he'd done something cruel. Most of us... most of us left. I'm the only one that stayed. Still can't enter that part of the manse or I'd have come looking for you, but," his hands clenched, then relaxed as he shook his head, "it was a vain hope, I thought."
He looked her in the eye, "you proved that wrong, Little Red," he said, then pulled her into a hug. Maya, surprised, took a moment to return the gesture. He was shaking again, "I'm so glad you're alright," she knew that if he had the capacity, he'd be crying right now, "are... are you alright?" he asked, pulling away to look at her, "you've... been gone for so long."

"I am," Maya replied, "I wasn't, not at first. I was angry, and... I let it out," she said. Haava looked at her, concerned, it was hard to tell as he didn't have facial expressions, but, she could feel it in his necromantic reserves, "I'm... better now. I feel more like a person now than I did when he was around," she'd always felt more like a possession or pet while he'd been alive, though seeing his journal... she wasn't so sure anymore.

"And... he's dead? You're sure?" Haava asked, actually seeming more concerned than before. Maya nods.

"If he wasn't, I wouldn't have been able to chop into his corpse," she replied, getting a wince from the thrall, "that's... what I meant when I said I let my anger out."

He nodded, "I can see that," he blew out a breath, close to a sigh, but without the inhale, "that... puts me in a bit of a bind."

Maya blinked at that, "What do you mean?"

"I... I've never been without a master before," Haava replies sheepishly, "at least, not since these," he points to the inlaid bronze and stones in his head, "were added to me. It's..." he stops, clearly having a hard time articulating, then indicates the room around them, "this is a result of going without direction for... so long."

Then he shook his head, "It's..."

"Terrifying," Maya replied. Haava looks up at her in surprise, "I know. I went through it all, too. It's the... sudden feeling that you lack a purpose and need to get going on your own. I found my own."

"..." Haava remained silent, waiting for Maya to continue.

"My purpose was done the moment he died, there is no need for a purpose, just... my own desires and goals. Chasing what I want to, my purpose is to find what I want, and to pursue it now," she explained, starting slow but showing her own feeling of wonder with that decision, that revelation, "I got that shortly before leaving, and, to me, it feels so right."

Haava stared a moment, then started to chuckle and laugh, "Ah, I needed that, Little Red," he said, "I think this is the first I've seen you actually live, like you're one of the living. You even look the part. I don't think that'll work for me, though," he looked down at himself, "I don't think I can do without a purpose like that."

"Haava," Maya started, then stopped. She honestly didn't know what to say to him. Then, she remembered something, "would... would you like to come with me?"

Haava looked at Maya, "I-" Maya held up a hand to stall him.

"I've... studied necromancy, amongst other things, since he died. And I have a source of necromantic energy I can use for it," she started, "I can... act as your..." she hesitated before continuing, "your master until you find something to work towards yourself. It would mean a lot to me, having someone I can call a friend coming with me."

Haava took a moment to think, then, "Heh," he chuckled again, "well, what did you have in mind, Master?" he said jokingly.

Maya smiled, even if the thought of being her friend's "master" made her uncomfortable.

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Haava could feel the connection that Little Red forged into him, the steady stream of influence that had been missing for the past year, he hadn't even noticed it was gone until now.

He felt whole again, like something that had been missing was finally back in place. But Maya's expression as she forged the bond... she hated this. She always hated the control a necromancer had over their creations. For the mindless, it wasn't so bad, but for those that were intelligent? Those like him? Like her? She hated it.

He couldn't blame her, either, given her experiences. His old master was not a kind man, and his obsession with bloodboil made him inordinately harsh on her, but when he talked about her, in private, it was like a father talking about their child. He didn't realize that Little Red hated him, and she didn't realize their master loved her.

It was maddening, since he'd been ordered not to talk about it long ago. He couldn't tell her about how much he actually cared when she vented about her hatred and he never wanted to know what she said about him, saying that if she wanted to say something to him, she would do it herself... they both understood each other so little.

And he knew that his former Master must have seen her anger before he passed on, because a piece of his soul had remained behind as a spirit, one that was lingering around Little Red even now. Its what his eyes were for. To see spirits. She didn't know that, and he wouldn't tell her about it.

Still, he had much to do. He guided Little Red back to the supply rooms, helping her grab a pack and some pieces of equipment for traveling, as well as getting one of the more mindless undead to ready the cart for travel. They'd have to seal off the Manse once they left. The mindless undead would eventually get to the point where they'd start to roam outside their orders. That would be dangerous if they got loose.

Eventually, Maya moved to another part of the room, and the spirit born of their former Master remained, "this is what you tried to tell me, isn't it," the spirit asked.

Haava nodded slightly, not wanting to talk in case Little Red would hear him.

"I should have listened," the spirit was only an echo of the original, a facsimile, but they had enough personality and memory from the original. The spirit, little more than a wisp of ethereal light, shifted, as if setting their shoulders, and turned its attention to Haava, "I will travel with you," it said, "and offer what aid I can. Channel me if you ever need my strength," it shifted again, "limited as it may be."

Haava nodded again. Slowly. He hoped this would work out, otherwise... well, the regrets of both were likely to gnaw at them for a long time yet. And the seal Haava possessed was still strong, alchemically enforced. Written into the very tracery that covered his skull.

He hoped he'd never need his old Master's strength, but when was anyone ever that lucky.

Little Red returned with a pair of waxed cloaks and Haava guided her along. He also got her some clothing since she'd gone without this entire time, apparently.

I nice red ensemble that he knew would suit her, even in her new, apparently preferred, form. She seemed to like them. Haava picked out some himself, he'd need something a bit more substantial to hide his undead state, at least until Little Red could help him fill out his form. He was a quartermaster, not intended to fight, he wasn't exactly suited for travel or blending into a populace all that well. Some cream-colored clothing, thick linen wraps to bulk out his limbs a little, a gambeson in the house colors of green, and a mask that would cover his whole head when paired with the hooded cloak or a helm. It wasn't perfect, but it would suffice.

They'd be heading out soon.

He wondered if the horses were still alive after all this time.

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The horses were long dead, as Maya soon found out.

They'd been fed just fine, and the stalls were exceptionally clean, but one had been killed by wolves while out in the paddock while another had, apparently, had complications during a birthing, also out in the paddock. The stablemaster, one of the few living in her creator's employ, was nowhere to be found. Likely having left after payments stopped. The fact that the safe was cracked open didn't help with that notion.

All that was left was the money in the lockbox, which wasn't much, just a few dozen silvers and a few more in coppers. Enough for a human to live comfortably for a few months, or a year if they were frugal. It would go a lot farther for a pair of undead, though.

They wouldn't be taking the carts anywhere with the state the horses were in, even with it being prepared ahead of time.

She looked back at Haava as she came back from the Lab and study, having picked up a great many of the more helpful books, as well as a few that looked like they'd be helpful based on a brief skim from those she hadn't read.

Haava would never pass as human. He was too tall and thin for that, even after using the cloth wraps to bulk himself out. They'd have to be careful where they went, or, at least, Haava would. She didn't really have as much of an issue given she was a shapeshifter.

Still, she was happy he decided to come along. Having a friend to accompany her, it meant a lot. Though it was soured by the means for it.

"Do you think you could raise one of the horses?" Haava asked as she looked at the remains, torn to shreds as they were.

"I don't think so," she replied after a moment, "I'm new to the whole necromancy thing, you're the first undead I've bound thus far," she continued to explain, not that it was the real reason. She just... didn't want to bring the dead back. She hated her creator for so long, she couldn't shake the feeling she'd end up doing the same if she got into it. Necromancy to create undead... it just wasn't in the cards for her. She didn't want to do it.

Besides, necromancy had so many other uses outside of animation. She wouldn't be lacking from her decision.

Another reason beyond that was that an undead mount would label them just as necromancers themselves, which... may not be a good thing, going off the books Maya had read. She was fairly sure they were set up in a region more tolerant of necromancy than others, but she didn't want to take the chances.

"That's unfortunate," Haava mused, clearly trying to think of something they could do to pull the carts in place of the horses. Then he paused, and nodded, "I think I've got something. Follow me."

Haava led Maya to another building, one Maya had never been in, and promptly opened the door, leading into another stable. Inside, however... Maya had to pause, there were so many. Undead mounts of all sorts, holding perfectly still. Even a giant centipede of bone was in here!

Haava walked in, guiding Maya along, until they came across two mounts that looked remarkably life-like. A pair of mules, "these are taxidermy mules that were animated. The core is their skeleton, the bulk is from a type of necromantically charged fungi, and the pelt is the actual hide of the originals. They should be easy to control."

'Huh,' that wasn't what she was expecting, "will the fungi act as a good substitute for muscle?" she asked, somewhat confused. Without proper musculature, the main driving force would be necromantic energy, making them more energy intensive to keep animated.

A brief pause, then, "I don't know, they've been used before, though. I do think there is a reason they're in here while he used horses instead, though."

A good point, "they'll have to do though," Haava finished.

"They will..." with an inhale and brief sigh, Maya took a moment and grasped a thread of the necromantic power flowing from her core, and fed it into the two undead mules, one after the other. Slowly, the forged a bond. It was a process, but eventually she felt the bond grow strong and pull taught. She fed it a bit more to give some slack, then she gave a nudge to the two mounts.

With a brief creaking noise that rapidly faded, the mules began to leave the stables at her direction, growing more and more fluid in their motions as they moved.

It didn't take long after that to get them harnessed and the cart ready to move, filled with bags of books, various goods they could potentially sell, and, in the very back, the artefact housing her elixir. She wasn't sure if moving it was a great idea, but it beat leaving it here for their return, which may never happen.

And so, they guided the cart to the front gates, and had them opened. They road out, and the two guardian undead closed the gates behind them as they left. Maya watched until the doors were fully closed, then turned to face forward. That chapter of her life was closed, it was time to start the next one.

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AN: I want to say something before I get too far into this story... this is about showing the characters and the world of Jahren, the name of the Material Plane that Ravenwood is set in more than it is about having an actual plot. Here, the characters are the plot. While there will be points where a plot outside the characters will exist, they'll be more akin to side quests than they are main plots. This story is character and world driven, not plot driven.

That out of the way, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter. Cheers!
 
Chapter 2 - Traveler's Song New
The cart moved slowly along the path leading away from the only home Maya had ever known. The road had become overgrown in the last few years and the mules had to shift their path several times to keep from getting tripped up. It also left the cart with a fairly rough ride.

Even so, Maya found herself smiling while her nerves buzzed with anticipation.

Getting out of that place, into the wider world, even if she was still able to see the walls, she felt more free than she had ever felt before. Except maybe her earliest memories, but those had faded with age and time. Even the undead didn't have unlimited memories. Though, she supposed, the nerves she'd fashioned within herself were helping as she found her thoughts a fair bit clearer since she formed them.

It was then that Haava spoke up, "we're several days travel from the nearest town, at the very least," he noted, "likely closer to a week even if we travel through the night, which may not be the best idea given the local wildlife."

Maya gave Haava a questioning look, "how so?"

"Not sure," Haava replied, "all I know is most of the merchants that came through would say similar things. Don't travel at night, keep a fire going, and be on guard. It was a common thread that they all shared," he spoke calmly, "don't know if it'll target us, though. They were all alive."

Maya hummed in thought, looking out into the woods. Animals tended to avoid the undead, but bloodboil shades like herself... they formed working biology when they shapeshifted, they were as close to a living being as a manufactured undead could be, only certain naturalborn undead were closer, and they were rare. The books she read only obliquely referenced two, and they didn't even give names for them.

"We'll need materials, too," Maya commented idly, getting a curious noise from Haava, "well, we're going to have to help you blend in, aren't we?" she noted with a small smile, "and we'll need wares to sell. We've got an advantage in that we don't need to eat, sleep, or otherwise worry about those sorts of things, but we still need coin if we want to keep up our travels."

Haava nodded at the logic, though he shifted uncomfortably at the part about helping him blend in, "I'm not sure modifying my form as one of your first projects is such a good idea."

"I don't plan to." She huffed at the thought that she'd be so reckless. "I have another thrall in one of the barrels back there. They look similar enough that I can use for some experimentation, see what I can pull off."

That earned her a look and a muttered, "when did you..." followed by him eying the only barrel in the back of the cart, "right. Would also make for a decent guard in case something happens, yea?"

"Not my initial plan, but in a pinch? Definitely," Maya replied with a slightly embarrassed look, she hadn't even considered that option. The thrall was purely to try and give Haava a more human appearance than being a mostly skeletal thrall.

Haava hummed with amusement. How he did so without lips, Maya didn't know. Nothing in the books on necromancy actually covered that little detail. Even liches, skeletal as they were, never asked why they could speak unimpeded by their lack of flesh, it would seem.

"So, hunting?" Haava asked, "or are you going to try for something plant based?"

"I'm not sure," Maya answered simply before explaining, "I... don't actually know how to use any weapons. I can fire a crossbow and know how to swing a club, not to mention my innate abilities, but, I've never had to use them to fight before."

Haava nodded, "most undead know their abilities instinctively and can fight using them, bloodboil shades like yourself are an exception to that rule," then Haava paused, "do you think it would be possible to use bloodboil to create my disguise?"

Maya blinked for a moment, processing that question. Then she slapped her forehead, "why didn't I think of that! I even read that some necromancers use it to replace entire limbs. And you won't have to worry about the poison since you're already undead."

Laughter met that statement, "of course. But do you know how to make more? I'm sure it'd be useful for you just as well."

Maya nodded, her hand still at her face to hide her blush, without resorting to using her abilities to negate it, "I have the recipe in one of the books. We'll need to pick up the ingredients, which are pretty easy to find. You will need to learn how to manipulate it yourself, though. You know that, right?"

"Never too old to pick up some new tricks," Haava replied mirthfully, "Anything we'll need to go to town for?"

"Vinegar, and maybe some specific plants or mushrooms, but the rest we should be able to find while we're on the move," Maya sighed as she finally calmed the blush down, "and a small barrel to store it in," she added after a few moments of thought. "Thankfully we've got some onyx and obsidian we can use for the plug."

"Fortunate that," came Haava's reply. "Let me know what to look out for and we can stop if we spot something."

The mules continued their steady trot down the trail throughout the conversation as it shifted more to small talk, then to companionable silence as Maya picked up a book to begin reading a bit more. A story about a man that captured a star and gave it his heart, prolonging his life, but separating him from others, until a young woman cursed into the form of a crone opened his heart once more.

She started to read aloud as the sun reached its peak when Haava asked about it.

It was a pleasant way to pass the time.

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Hours later, as the sun creeped closer to the horizon, Haava cut through Maya's reading, "we should probably try and set up a camp. Even if we're able to go through the night, I think setting a fire, at the very least, wouldn't be amiss with what I've heard of the region."

Maya frowned, she'd have preferred to continue through the night, but Haava knew more about what was outside the manse than she did. She nodded, "alright." She placed a bookmark in her book and went to the front of the cart, "any idea where would be a good spot to stop?"

"Not a one. I'm not used to 'camping' as it were, never needed to," the thrall replied in turn, "though if we're setting a fire, we'll want to be away from trees and in a flat area, at the very least," he continued after a brief pause. He'd been doing that more often lately.

Maya made a noise, "probably won't even be able to make a fire, then, defeating the point of stopping for the night in the first place," she says after a moment of thought.

Haava pulled up short at that and got a thoughtful look, "right. Travel through the night, then?"

Maya nodded, "likely for the best. I'd prefer it anyway. I want to-" she cut herself off as she spotted something, "wait, stop the cart. I see some ingredients we can use!"

As the mules came to a stop, Maya hopped down and went a few trees deep into the woods, digging up some fresh plants with heavy roots, as well as a bit of the loamy soil they were in. Perfect for making bloodboil.

More impressively, there was an alchemical ingredient that she recognized, though she'd never seen the flowers fresh. It smelled amazing! Menthil blooms were rare and were a precursor to a psychic plant known as a muskari, they always smelled wonderful and were a key ingredient in several memory potions.

With careful motions, she sliced the base of the plant with a belt knife and tied it up with twine, it would dry in the cart as they moved, as well as perfume the interior for the time it took to dry, possibly even longer, depending on how old it was. She couldn't tell, she'd only ever read about it and seen a few sketches.

She then made her way back to the cart and Haava, where he looked at her with what she could only call amusement.

"You really have gotten into the spirit of alchemy, haven't you?" he asked with mirth clear in his voice, "no wonder you took to it so well."

Maya blushed lightly and gave a light chuckle, "I suppose..."

"Come on, we've got a ways to go yet," he didn't seem overly eager about that, he'd advocated for camping for a reason, she just hoped that reason wasn't something that would come to bite them for ignoring it.

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Still more time passed as the sun reached the horizon and dipped below, leaving the barest hints of light going forward, "we may need to stop anyway," Haava muttered, "the roads will be difficult to see once night falls. Especially with the moon as it is," he added, looking up at the pale sliver of the moon already in the sky, even before the sun had properly set.

"I can take over guiding the cart, if that becomes an issue," Maya offered. Haava turned to her and tilted his head, "I know how to change my eyes to see in the dark."

"Hmm," Haava hummed, "then we can trade off when we need to. I need to try something anyway."

"Oh? What do you need to try?" There was genuine curiosity in Maya's question.

"I was designed as a spirit channeler, I'm going to try channeling a new spirit. Or at least commune with it for a time." Haava took a moment to shake out his bones, as if trying to dislodge something. "If you hear me muttering, I'm just talking to this new spirit. Will be the first time in nearly a decade that I've swapped spirits."

That brought Maya up short, she hadn't known that, she'd never even known Haava was designed for anything more than being the quartermaster, "really? I can't imagine," and she couldn't. The idea of sharing her soul with something else... it made her shudder. When she'd learned of the soul and how important it was, as well as how it could be damaged, she'd sworn to never let anything touch her soul if she could help it. Trusting a spirit to lie within her soul... it was not something she was prepared to do. Ever.

Haava gave a laugh, "I remember, Little Red," again with the nickname. He'd yet to call her Maya. There wasn't any malice behind it, fortunately, it was an affectionate term, even if Maya didn't quite like how it referenced her true form.

"Don't worry about me, I was made for it, and I don't have to worry about possession," Haava continued, unaware of Maya's thoughts.

Maya shrugged, he could do what he wanted with his soul, "just don't expect me to try it with you."

"Wouldn't even dream of it," Haava laughed out, though it sounded... nervous? No, that wasn't quite right. She didn't know the right word for how it sounded. Apprehensive, maybe?

She shook her head, it didn't matter to her much, "let me know when you need to switch. I'll be reading until then," and she did, indeed, get back to her reading, until she had to shift her eyes to see the words better. Then again. And finally, with a third time, Haava called her to the front of the cart.

"Your turn at the reins," he called back, "and keep an eye out. I thought I saw movement in the woods not too long ago. Pretty sure it was just some animals, but given the stories..." he trailed off at the implications.

Maya nodded as she swapped places with Haava, "I'll keep an eye out," she said, she didn't form any additional eyes, she didn't want to meet anyone out here while outside a common human shape, but she did enhance her hearing considerably and created a tymbal that would produce a high pitched noise she could use for echolocation. She'd practiced this a few times over the decades, she'd practiced with all her senses, but this one was by far the one she had the most practice with.

With brief bursts of sound too high for most people to hear, Maya attempted to gain awareness of the forest. She grimaced as the sound bounced around unexpectedly, and she sighed. She'd never used this in a forest before, she'd never been into the forest before period. She'd need to practice. For now, it was good enough to be able to hear something coming towards her, though.

Something to work towards.

Haava lies in the back, shifting about uncomfortably. He couldn't see in the dark like she could. After a few minutes of hearing that, Maya asked a simple question, "isn't there a lantern back there? On top of the barrel."

Haava grunted and fumbled as he went looking. A clatter, a swear, and a small hissing noise, then a bit of light emerges from the back of the cart, "keep it low, don't want to ruin my night vision," Maya warned, and Haava made a hum of acknowledgement, keeping the light dim. A few minutes later, she heard paper moving. Haava had started to read.

It was nearly three hours into the night that Maya noticed something. There was something following them through the forest. Maya sharpened her sight, gaining enough clarity to spot the thing.

"Huh," she muttered, it looked cute. Like what'd happen if you scaled up a rabbit, mixed it with a cat, then gave it a small, curved horn. It wasn't an almiraj, but it looked similar enough to one, "Haava," she called back, getting the thrall's attention, "I think I found the creature they merchants were talking about."

Almiraj's were horned rabbits that were known to be territorial, they usually had gold fur and a unicorn-like horn. They were a delicacy in some desert regions, and their horns were useful for certain alchemical artefacts. They avoided people, though. This one clearly wasn't.

It suddenly ran ahead of the cart and jumped into the road ahead, setting its stance as its horn grew in size, and became almost like an axe-blade on its head. And now, Maya was pretty sure she knew what this was.

A chimera.

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AN: For reference, the title for this chapter is a song by Aviators, one of my favorite YouTube artists of all time.

Here we have our first look at the local wildlife, and its a particularly dangerous example of it, too. For those that don't know, a chimera is a variant of a smaller creature known as a wolpertinger, which takes on the physical characteristics of animals it eats, often creating ridiculous appearances. Chimeras, however, are larger and can take on the magical abilities of the creatures they eat as well as the physical ones. They are also, generally, more intelligent and in control of their form. They aren't human level intelligent, but they are smart enough to be dangerous.

This one... well, you'll see in the next chapter.

Enjoy!
 
Chapter 3 - Witch Hunter New
Maya POV​

"Damnit" Maya cursed as she got the mules to shift their path and move faster, catching the creature by surprise, if its shriek was anything to go by. She hoped to god she was wrong about what this thing was, a chimera was not something had any desire to deal with, at all. But that was not a rabbit or cat shriek, she didn't know what it was, but the pressure it put on her head until she shifted herself to mitigate it meant it had some kind of supernatural vocal cord.

"What is it?" Haava asked in a panic as he tried to hold down what little loose gear was in the back of the cart.

"I really hope I'm wrong, but I think it's a chimera," Maya called back, focusing on the path ahead and urging the mules to move quickly.

Haava cursed sulphurously at that, "that thing's still out here!? We hired people to take care of the thing years ago!"

That... that didn't make sense. Then she groaned as she spotted something ahead, "yea, and it looks like they tamed it instead." Ahead was a group of people hidden in the trees. For nearly any other race, they'd be nearly invisible in the trees, but Maya's eyes were harder to fool in their current form, "bandits with a chimera, just great. Grab a crossbow, Haava. We're going to have to fight if things go wrong."

"Damnit," he curses again, grabbing a crossbow, "do you see a human with red hair and a scar on their cheek? Or a voldur with one hand?"

She scans the bandits, then replied, "the second one, right on the bend. Has a blade lashed to his arm."

"That's Gerren," he mutters, "damn, these really are the people we hired. They're a group that call themselves the witchknives, they use witchcraft, enforcement, and are oathbound! Gerren is wyrdling, don't know what type, but he is one. One of them has to have the chimera as a familiar otherwise it wouldn't be working with them like this."

Maya nodded back, "pass me some of the sling stones," she said as they approached the ambush and the chimera began to catch up to them. She watched the voldur raise his blade arm, ready to signal the attack.

The stones dropped into her hand quickly sunk under the skin. A sling wasn't the best weapon, but it was a lot stronger than people expected it to be, and she knew how to use one. She drew her sling from her belt and spun it up, drawing attention from the bandits ahead, until she loosed her sling right at Gerren.

Her aim was off. The stone struck his shoulder instead of his head like she'd been aiming for, it still drew a cry of pain from him. Many of the bandits froze at that, with the chimera changing course to go towards them. She had to wonder how they were seeing, most of those she saw were human, with maybe a touch of orc or elf blood themselves, but only Gerren would have good enough night vision to see under these conditions natively.

She wasn't even able to see perfectly out here, and she was using eyes specifically designed to see in lower light conditions. What the hell were they doing to see out here? Then she saw one of the bandits grimace, paw at his belt, and pull a potion.

That... explained things.

No more time, "brace!" she called as the mules plowed forward and Gerren, glaring daggers at her, gave a shout to attack. Arrows flew and a handful with handaxes tensed in preparation to attack.

Two struck one of the mules, which promptly ignored them, one struck the other right through its left eye, and two more struck Maya directly. She hissed in pain as they sank into her chest and stomach. A quick shift in her form and they fell out of her. Wide eyes abounded in the bandits as the cart kept moving unimpeded, running over one of the axemen that leapt out the moment the arrows struck, too surprised to get back out of the way.

A shriek from the chimera put the pressure back onto Maya's head, but she ignored it, firing off one final sling bolt at Gerren, this time striking him below the belt, and knocking him right to the floor. She had not been aiming there, but that worked.

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Gerren POV​

The pain was immense, he couldn't help but gasp out quaking breaths as he tried to get his bearings, but the pain in his loins kept him from even being able to move, let alone try and take charge. How the fuck had those merchants gotten past them like that? They'd been running this tactic for years and none had ever just plowed through like that, nor had they ever been able to counterattack before they got the chance to attack.

He looked up, towards the path, and spotted one of his men flattened on the road, with two of the others trying to keep him from dying. Then shaking their heads. Dead. Too much damage too fast, they couldn't do anything.

With a snarl, Gerren pushed through the pain, grabbed a vial filled with some aloe, a pair of cloves, and butterbur from his belt, and lanced his mana through the materials, turning them to ash as he laid the spell over himself, dulling his pain to something more manageable. He'd need to see their healer, soon, but he could at least take charge.

Gerren limped over, and cursed, "Marcus," he growled. Marcus was the one that had tamed the beast and formed a bond with it, without him... Gerren looked around. The beast was gone, "Gavock!" he cursed in orcish. His men flinched away, "ge' wha' you c'n an' back tah base," he growled out, not even trying to suppress his accent, "an' ge' tah beast back! Now!"

They'd likely think they'd be cutting their loses here, but no. Gerren glared down the road as a growl rumbled in his chest. That bitch was going to pay for this. Whatever she was, however she survived an arrow straight to the fucking heart! It didn't matter, he'd take her head as a fucking trophy!

But he needed a healer. He needed the beast back. He needed to get a map. And he needed information. Where the hell had the bitch come from? There wasn't anything the way she'd come from except that abandoned keep that had hired them years ago. Was there a new road or had someone taken over the keep? He needed to know.

At least he'd managed to mark her. He would be able to find her in time. He never lost a target.

Finally, he began the trek back to their base. He really hoped this wasn't as bad as it felt, because he could still feel the pain through the numbing spell. He really wasn't looking forward to riding his horse like this. How the fuck was she strong enough to launch a stone that fast with a piece of cloth!?

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Haava POV​

Haava pulled a bolt from his clothing. Fortunately, it hadn't found what little flesh he had left. He muttered lightly as he spoke to the spirit of his old master, "what do you think they'll do?"

"I don't know," his former master said, looking frustrated, "they seemed reliable enough when I hired them, but if they're doing this... I didn't know them well enough to be able to say. Gerren, though... he was able to hold a grudge. He'll be back. I'm sure of that. Whether the others follow him or not, I can't say."

Haava grunted, "we'll have to prepare for that th-" he was cut off by another shriek, though this one sounded different from the last two, "oh, what now!?" he said at a normal volume.

Then the chimera was hanging from the back of the cart!

Haava backed away in a panic and leveled his crossbow at the thing, only to pause when it got in and huddled into the corner of he cart, shivering, "Uh, Maya..."

"What!?" she called back, still focused on keeping them moving quickly, likely thinking the chimera would attack them.

"I think you can slow down, now," he replied back in forced calm, "and you might want to take a look back here."

An eye formed on the back of Maya's head, and it blinked before it faded back into her head, "that... we must have run over the familiarist," she muttered, "but why try and come with us. We'd be more likely to try and kill it, and chimera are smart enough to know that."

It was shivering, eyes closed as it curled itself as small as possible, "it's definitely scared. Give me a moment."

Haava slowly got up from his position and approached the creature, before his former master spoke up, "it is definitely a chimera," he said, drawing Haava's attention, "see that blue mark on its forehead, under the horn? That's from a riverine and is very distinct. But this one has to be young, less than a year old."

Nodding, Haava approached slowly, and gently reached out, putting his hand on the chimera's head. It flinched back and snapped at him, but fell short of actually biting. Then it curled in on itself again, seemingly panicked about what it just did. Haava waited a moment, then placed his hand on its head again. It froze rather than trying to bite again, until he started to pet it gently.

It remained frozen for a short time, before it began to relax into the petting and seemed to pass out, the fear it had been feeling catching up to cause it to simply pass out.

"They must have abused the poor thing..." the spirit said quietly, "they're not aggressive creatures. They're herbivores naturally, scavenging from the dead to gain traits, they aren't normally hunters. At least when they're young. Even with a familiar bond..."

Slowly pulling away, Haava went back to the front of the cart, "it's sleeping," he said, noting the slower speed they were going, "it's scared, but not aggressive. I don't think it will attack us."

Maya looked at Haava, then nodded, "I'll have to trust you on that," she stated simply. "I hope you're right about it."

Haava agreed, silently. He wasn't sure himself.

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Maya POV​

Dawn came hours later, with the chimera sleeping in the back of the cart even still. It was honestly kind of cute, in the way a predator could be. She'd asked Haava to explain about chimeras a bit more. She knew the basics about them, not much beyond that, though.

"Herbivores? Really?" she asked at one nugget of information.

"Hard to believe, I know," Haava replied, "but they usually scavenge bones for some nutrition they can't get from their plants and that's where they start to develop their form," he indicated the sleeping chimera. Then he sighed. "We'll need to get something for it to eat before we go much farther. It's going to wake up soon and it'll be hungry."

"Do you know what they eat other than just a generic 'plants' thing?"

"Fruit and tubers. Mushrooms, too. They'll also go after honey," Haava was slow to reply, but came up with a few things, "not so much leafy greens, but I know that some like plant bulbs, though they are averse to onions and garlic. It's not poisonous to them, mind you, they just don't like the smell."

Maya nodded, "we've got mushrooms and dried fruit," she said, "get some of the fruit soaking in water for it, if you think that'll work. We don't have much else right now. We'll keep an eye out for stuff they can eat, though." She didn't let it show, but she was annoyed. The chimera had attacked them, drove them towards bandits, then hopped onto their cart once they'd gotten passed the bandits and killed its former master, if they did do so. It very well may still be compelled by its master to follow them.

She took a breath and let her annoyance fade. The chimera wasn't at fault for that, she knew it, but it didn't stop her from not liking the whole situation.

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Chimera POV​

It was gone. The thing in its head was gone. The voice was gone. He was terrified of it. He couldn't remember a time without the voice. Couldn't remember a time when he didn't have master. Now... master was gone. Master was gone, and so were the beatings, the starving, all of it.

But, he didn't know how to go on without a master. Didn't know how to survive without someone to take care of it. All it knew was it couldn't go back to its master's pack. They were just as bad, if not worse. They hurt him. They tormented him. All to make him do as they asked. To hurt people. He didn't want to go back.

So... he went to those that he'd attacked. Expecting more of the same, but hoping for better. He got better.

The gentle stroking of its head had lulled him to a gentle, peaceful sleep he hadn't known since he was a cub, still with his mother. Before she'd been killed and he and his siblings were separated. He was the only one that stayed.

Stayed with his master. A replacement for his mother.

Now, he found he could have better. Could have something other than what he did before.

He hoped it would last.

He roused from his sleep, slowly as his thoughts came more clearly.

These were not like those he'd known all his life. They did not smell the same. They smelled different. They did not smell of people, they smelled of poison and dust. They didn't smell like those that hurt him. Didn't smell like those they'd attacked, so close to their former master. They smelled of something new, and they comforted him rather than turning him away. Rather than attacking him as he had them.

He didn't feel safe, not yet, but he knew he could be.

Opening one eye, he spotted a bowl of... he sniffed, and smelled fruit. His other eye opened as he looked at the bowl. Fruit. He hadn't had more than a few morsels of this, only what he could sneak, his master always fed him meat. It was never satisfying.

Looking around slowly, he spotted the one of dust, talking to the poisonous one, he couldn't understand them. Not without his master's voice in his head. The one of dust looked back at him. He froze. Close to the bowl of fruit. Would it be taken from him?

No. The one of dust simply turned back and said something else. The poisonous one turned to look. He shrank back at the feeling from her look. Then relaxed when she looked forward again. They weren't going to take it from him.

He moved himself to eat the fruit. It was better than the dry stuff they got behind their master's back, it was moist, soft, and easy to eat, but the flavor... it was slightly muted. It was still better than anything he had had in a long time, though.

He ate the whole bowl and licked it clean. For the first time, he felt satisfied from his meal.

He curled back up and fell asleep once more.

He liked the one of dust, they'd shown him peace, but he wasn't sure about the poisonous one, she felt strange. Not like she'd hit him, no. He didn't know what the feeling meant. It didn't feel like she'd hurt him, though. That was enough.

He hoped they'd let him stay. He hoped they'd be his new home. Maybe he'd found something good for himself.

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AN: And we have both our final party member until they reach town (one more planned) and one of the recurring antagonists for the story. This should be an interesting ride from here on out! Let me know what you think and feel free to ask for clarifications about anything you read on here. I'll make informational posts as necessary.

Now, I should note, chimera aren't usually as... aware of themselves as this one is. Even with a familiar bond boosting intelligence. This one has eaten a few things that have made this more possible. They will be a full character, not a simple pet or familiar (Maya and Haava lack the ability to form familiar bonds anyway).

For those curious, Voldur is a term for a half-orc-half-elf. And Maya will be mistaken for a Felau, a dwarf/elf hybrid, sometimes mockingly called a dwelf.

The song for this one is Witch Hunter by Jonathan Young.
 
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