Necromancer Gothic. Part One.

The Silent City. Blackreach. Skyrim.

With a swirl of blue and white energy I returned to my underground home and took a seat on the throne of cold stone and bone which had been built for me by one of the many lesser Necromancers that had come to serve me over time.

"Put this with others" I commanded.

Handing over the object I held it was taken by topless spiky purple haired female Necromancer who was part of my Harem of magic using females. She was an Imperial a group I favoured the most since they looked the Europeans of my world. That wasn't because I was racist it more a matter of sexual preferences Imperial women were the kind of women I was attracted to. It helped that once they were given access to hair and skin care products from my world they could blend in quite nicely on more advanced worlds or at least they could once the culture shock wore off.

Also as a bonus they were Necromancers which meant that they didn't have much in the way of inhibitions so they didn't mind wandering around my base of operation nearly naked. Not that they had a choice really if they didn't please me in every way a Witch could please me her master I'd kill them.

Sitting back on my throne I let my body relax and my mind wander as I thought over the events of the day.

I'd just returned from a quest to recover one of the Dragon Priests Masks in order to add it to my collection of powerful artefacts. It was unlikely that I would ever wear the mask myself but such trinkets often made suitable gifts for those who had served me well or perhaps it would become a bribe to buy the loyalty of someone I might wish to ally with later.

The recovery of the mask had gone well but something unexpected had happened. I had encountered another version of myself.

This wasn't the first time I'd met an alternate me. There was a Daedric Prince Gothic doings only the Divines' only know what over in the Realms Of Oblivion. We'd run into each other a few times around Skyrim and I had done the god a few favours in exchange for some rather good spells. Later he'd become my patron god although it was, at least in my view, more a business arrangement than a matter of worship.

A few months ago I'd even met a Hellgod version of myself while I'd been on the world of Supernatural attempting to acquire some demon blood for my experiments in alchemy.

So having an encounter with someone who wore my face was nothing new to me but I'd never seen a child version of myself before.

I'd easily deduced that he'd been a student at Hogwarts due to wand he carried and his age but beyond that I didn't really know much about him other than the fact that I had intimated him, and that he was also part of the college of Winterhold. Although how he'd made it Skyrim without the Portal Spell was a mystry.

That he was a student of the college and a Dark Wizard, by the feel of things, should of labelled him as a rival that needed to put down as quickly as possible but for some reason I got the sense that harming this Wizard Gothic would be a very bad idea.

"Does something vex you my master?"

The query came from a dark elf (or dunmer to use the local word for this race) woman who came over and knelt before me.

She had been my servant for some time now long enough in fact that I could no longer remember the name she had used when we first met but that didn't matter as when people entered my service they cast aside their former lives and took new names, names that I gave them.

However I did remember how we'd met. It had been about two years ago not long after I had arrived in Skyrim and I'd nearly gotten my head chopped off, along with the Dragonborn and some Stormcloak rebels simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Back then I'd not been a Necromancer for very long and since I'd yet to met my Daedric Prince counterpart who had been the one to give me the Portal Spell I was still stuck in Skyrim which isn't an easy place to live in for a magic user. But I'd been determined to not only survive as a Necromancer but also to prosper as one.

In order do this I'd needed to learn and to learn fast. The one advantage I had, still did have in fact, over other Necromancers was my ability to examine the souls of those passing on. When someone nearby me dies its like an automatic Soul Trap spell I take the soul or souls of those dying into myself and as they pass through me to where ever it is they are going some of the knowledge, memories, experiences and magical power that person has gained during their life becomes mine.

This was actually how I had first become a Necromancer. After fleeing the World-Eater's attack at Helgen I'd been chased by a Orc bandit right into a Necromancer's lair. The Orc and the Necromancer had killed each other, which had been very convenient for me, and I'd somehow taken their souls into myself or at the very least they'd past through me on their way to their afterlife.

The Orc's memories and knowledge had been next to useless (although I did sometimes think that my later ease with killing had come from that insane Orc) but the Necromancer's knowledge of the Darks Arts had also become mine. His experiences and skills had set me on the dark path and had filled with the desire to become the most powerful user of death magic this world, and perhaps one day others, would ever know.

Eager to learn more about such forbidden arts I'd began travelling. I'd called myself a Warlock claiming that I could banish evil spirits as well as summon them. Which I could thanks to the souls I'd taken so it hadn't been a lie.

Mages aren't that well respected in Skyrim and Nords are a superstitious lot but if you actually do banish a few spirits that are bothering people they tend to warm up to you. Well at least a little

Such quests had kept my pockets full of gold and I'd always had a roof over my head because it pays to be nice to the guy with a reputation for banishing evil spirits.

Most people quickly figure out that the guy who gets rid of murderous ghosts can probably bring them back or even make new ones so while people were rarely warm in their welcoming they made great efforts not to be offensive towards me either.

That often led to me getting free room and board at in an inn but rarely did I get service with a smile even when I had gold to spend.

Of course this generosity didn't stop people from subtly encouraging me to be on my way as quickly as possible and this often involved being told information about legends of haunted places and such that I would go check out in exchange for a small fee because that would give everyone great peace of mind. Ensuring people's peace of mind had made me a small fortune many times over thanks to the Jarls.

One such quest led to a place with a name I couldn't pronounce where the woman who would later become the first member of my harem was busy working with Lu'ah Al-Skaven a Redguard window who had been trying to raise an army of the dead in order to avenge her husband, a man who had been killed in the war between the Elf led Dominion and the Human run Empire.

This hadn't been the first time I'd encountered another Necromancer. I'd hunted down and killed Sild The Warlock for a rather small fee because even by my standards he had been a nasty piece of work. But it had been the first time I had ever spared the life of a Necromancer and taken one into my service. Then later into my bed.

Following the traditions of the Sith, a group of people I greatly admired, I'd gotten into the habit of giving new names to those who knelt before me as their master. I'd called the first Witch who knelt before Lumiya partly because it sounded cool and partly because thinking up names was something I sucked at doing.

Lumiya was still kneeling before me despite the fact that I had been deep in thought all this time, she was used to that by now and knew better than to interrupt my thoughts as I often spent a lot of time planning or just thinking about the past.

"Nothing is the matter my servant I was merely reflecting on the day's events".

The woman said nothing and did nothing she knew I needed to think right now.

I had no why this Wizard Gothic was important but I could understand how he could be dangerous.

He would know about Horcruxs.

I had two myself as three was a magical number and so by dividing my soul into three parts I had made myself more powerful without reducing myself to a inhuman snake faced monster completely incapable of pity or remorse. Plus three parts was a lot less risky than seven or worse thirteen, not that anyone could survive such a thing I was sure.

Still even creating one Horcrux has a bad effect on a person I could no longer love and whatever morals I'd had left after becoming a Necromancer were long gone, at least for the most part. I wasn't completely lacking in mercy and remorse but after creating those soul anchors there was very little I wouldn't do these days.

At least my Horcruxs were well hidden one of them was hidden in plain sight and the other was a rock currently under the surface of a frozen lake. I hadn't used fancy artefacts or living creatures as that was foolish both Horcruxs were objects that one would ever even notice. Given this the danger was minimal but still any risk to my immortality was of concern.

Thankfully there are other ways to make oneself immortal so the concern wasn't that great.

So there must be another reason why this Wizard Gothic worried me. It couldn't just be because he was more powerful than me as there were a couple of gods out there who had my face both of which could crush me like a bug if they so wished.

No it must be something else but what that was I hadn't a clue. It was possible that my Daedric Prince counterpart knew I decided to visit his shrine and ask.

Despite the fact that I got up out of my seat and started heading outside without warning Lumiya, being well used my behaviour by now, followed me without question or delay.

On the outside the Dwarf city the rest of Blackreach still looked much the same as it had when I had first come here, aside from the female Necromancers moving around performing their daily tasks and undead creatures under their command. Sure now it was mostly populated by the dead that were my army and worker force but aside from that it really wasn't that different.

For example those freaky glow in the dark mushrooms were everywhere providing the light need to see. I hated mushrooms but they were too useful to get rid of and I wasn't sure how to destroy them in any case.

The bodies of water were still here only now they had undead mudcrabs protecting them and the water was used to irrigate crops of crimson nirnroot and other odd plants which grew down here.

I'd also done a little restoration work using teams of dead thralls they had cleared up and restored all the farms under my watchful eye, and then the task had been given to less talented magic users.

Necromancers lived in the houses I'd had rebuilt now and they oversaw the thralls that tended the farms. Thralls needed constant supervision when working as while they kept the skills they'd had in life they were unable to learn anything new or adapt to changing situations so different Thralls were needed for different chores and they also had to be told when to stop or start a certain task.

The job wasn't hard when working as a team but sorting out a mistake could be tricky and farms did need a lot of work so it was good to have a few teams of Necromancers around working in shifts in order to watch over things.

Plants grown on these farms were never eaten they were used to make potions which were sold and the money made was used to buy things that weren't worth stealing. Such as food, clothing and the basic tools of the Necromancy trade which could be brought really cheaply even with the war still going on.

However the farms weren't where I was going so I walked right past them leaving the unfeeling workers and their supervisors behind.

The next group I walked past were mining the ore found all over Blackreach this task was lot more complex than the game suggests as it requires more effort than merely swinging a pickaxe but like on the farms the dead doing all the work digging things up had done so in life and death hadn't changed that much.

I was now at the shrine to my patron Tenebris Deux which was bad Latin for Dark God or Darkness God depending on if my translation was right, but Tenebris Deux sounded right to the Imperials and from what the Prince Of Necromancy, among other things, had told me he'd started on the road to godhood sometime after the Oblivion Crisis.

What deity had been up to in centuries between then and now he'd never said but I got the impression that he hadn't actually been there right after after the crisis because like he me he wasn't sure if the Hero Of Kvatch had become the Mad God or not.

Of course he might have been lying he is an evil god after all but perhaps he'd obtained immortality early on and simply spent the next few centuries building his kingdom in whatever realm of Oblivion it was he called home.

Also time didn't mean much in Oblivion and he would of wanted to stay out of history's way in order to ensure that events played out like they were suppose to.

Well for whatever reason he had for waiting so many years to become active he was so now and I knew he had plans. I had no idea what they were but part of it was about expanding the influence of himself and his peers to other worlds.

Not that this was stopping him from having an influence here.

Tenebris' shrine was massive and at any time the statue of him in his armoured form always had a congregation before it. They sang his praises and made offerings in exchange for spells or in the hopes of gaining one of this relics.

Oddly for a Prince he had many. I suspected that they were for the most part just magical items he had personally enchanted rather than create using his 'blood' like how most Daedric artefacts were. There could be ways to do that and still make the relics more powerful than anything mortal made as he had access to other worlds as just as I did so it would be easy enough for him to have exotic items enchanted in ways local items weren't.

Like all Princes the Lord Of Forbidden Practices required an offering in order to be summoned but I didn't need anything as I had made regular offerings to the god by supplying him with Skeleton archers and such for his army of the dead. It was a bit like having a VIP's private number rather than having to call their business line.

WHY DO YOU CALL UPON ME?

I often wondered if I'd feel the need to talk in big scary voice if I was the god.

"I have questions" I said addressing Tenebris Deux.

YOU HAVE THREE QUESTIONS

He never felt the need to talk like this when we were alone he only did this when others were listening. Not that he was talking per say the 'voice' was played directly into people's heads rather than heard.

"Do you know who I met earlier today".

YES

"Who was he?" I asked.

THE FIRST GOTHIC

Ah well that created far more questions than it answered and I only got three questions per day.

"What do you mean by The First Gothic?".

HE WAS THE FIRST OF US TO RECIVIE A GIFT FROM THE TRAVELLER. HE IS THE REASON WE ALL EXIST.

And that was it, not very helpful really but it did tell me a few things.

This Wizard Gothic must be the reason why the Traveller had transformed my counterparts and I into the creatures that we were now. How this First Gothic had done this I hadn't a clue but perhaps I could ask him one day.

However that would have to wait as I couldn't get to him if he was indeed a Hogwarts student as the wards around that castle actually worked rather well against certain threats. I'd come to the conclusion that Necromancers had once been common on that world during the Founder's time.

This was of course assuming that the Harry Potter world I could portal to was the same one this Wizard Gothic had come from. There could be many alternate versions of that world and I'd have no way of telling which one this Wizard Gothic lived upon.

Ah well in the end it might not matter if the boy Wizard version of myself was an intimated by me as he had seemed to be then he'd go out of his way to avoid me. And even if he didn't that might not make us enemies, in time he might even seek my out.

"My lord"

I turned to see a Breton woman (who like all those who served me tended to wear little in the way of clothing while down here in) bow down before me and make a request.

"We need more bodies, master" she pleaded "we can not met the demands of Princes otherwise".

Curse Dagon and his war with the Chaos Gods. The never ending demands for more undead to serve as cannon fodder for the war with Ruinous Powers took up far to much of my limited resources.

If it weren't for the risk of losing my Prince counterpart's patronage and protection I'd would cut off the supply of unliving warriors for Daedric Princes long ago.

It galled me that I needed any patronage at all as it had never felt right that I should serve another but I had little choice in the matter as it was Prince Gothic who protected me from the other Daedric Lords.

I often thought about leaving this world and finding another were I could live like a king but as tempting as that was there was a part of me that wanted to keep helping with the war against Chaos.

Victory seemed impossible sometimes but according to the reports I was getting Oblivion was beating the Powers of the Warp.

Mostly this was due to the efforts of the Daedric Prince Jyggalag, being the Lord of Order his very existence was a weapon against Chaos. As much as the Prince of Order was hated by his peer the Ruinous Powers hated him more so.

What ever substance Jyggalag's Obelisks were made of was like kryptonite to daemons I'd seen daemons charge an Obelisks only to melt away before they got within five meters of the Obelisks even the Hearts Of Order were effective enough to ward a creature of Chaos away.

But as potent as Order was against Chaos, Jyggalag's forces weren't enough. They were needed to push Chaos back towards the North and South Poles but they couldn't keep pushing Chaos back while also fighting the armies of the Dark Gods who being merely corrupted humans weren't as badly effected by the power of Order.

Therefore warriors were needed to keep those armies busy and since Daedra like daemons needed to be summoned by mortal magic users the Princes couldn't bring in enough soldiers to win the war while also defending their own realms from Chaos.

That was were I came in. My undead made for great cannon fodder to use against Chaos.

Dreaguer and Thralls had no real minds of their own which could be corrupted by Chaos and they could function in environments lethal to humans. Granted they weren't that dangerous compared to what Chaos could produce but since my Necromancer slaves weren't above raiding the graves of soldiers from more modern days worlds I was able to supply undead troops which could make use of very devastating weapons.

I had also provided undead from other races like the giants of Skyrim they were fearsome creatures when alive and no less so death at least once they were correctly animated.

Heck I'd even gone as far as to create Necrodragons using the bones of dragons slain across Skyrim but even they weren't enough to really make a difference

"More bodies" I muttered before saying more loudly "and from where should I get these bodies, Ventress?".

My habit of renaming my Necromancer servants after Sith and Dark Jedi seemed a little silly at times but the name Ventress was well used in this case as this Breton was when I found a rather arrogant little thing who had fancied herself to be a genuine Dark Lady. I had quickly shown her what real power was and now she willingly served me in the hopes of someday gaining actual power.

Not that I ever shared true power with anyone but the little titbits I threw my minions like table scraps to a dog was a lot more then they ever would of gotten by themselves.

"Perhaps another world, my lord" the female Necromancer suggested.

The problem with there was that most people got a might angry when you started killing people or desecrated graves into order to reanimate bodies. I wasn't to fond of it myself as it had never really been my intention to become a tomb raider I'd just seeking power.

Still it wasn't as if I actually had to do disgusting parts of Necromancy myself that was what minions were for I much preferred working with souls than dead bodies, ghosts didn't smell bad due to decomposition.

Skeletons weren't to bad bone was easy to keep clean and wasn't at all revolting to work with compared to flesh but they didn't make for great warriors due to how fragile they were. They weren't so bad if you animated them using a Black Soul Gem but killing enough people to enchant enough skeletons was very time consuming compare to simply soul trapping and then slaughtering fields of cattle in the dead of night.

I also had to consider the fact that Black Soul Gems were hard to create and that they were being used up as fast as they could be created. Most them were being used up in war to capture the souls of powerful Chaos Champions and Greater Daemons so that the Dark Gods couldn't just bring them back into action. The rest were used to create the most powerful of the undead in my service The Draugr Deathlords which were the only troops I had that could defeat a Lesser Daemon or Chaos Champion in battle, and it was never a certain victory unless the Deathlords had dead of their own to command.

All this focusing on problems was stressing me out, it was time to do something to make my situation better rather than just dwelling on the them.

After breathing in and a few times in order to calm myself I addressed the Necromancer on the floor.

"Gather everyone who isn't needed to keep the day to day operations running smoothly and have them met me in two hours in the Debate Hall".

If I was going to take any sort of action I needed to get an idea of what kind of forces I had to work with. The numbers of dead at my command were always changing and many of my Necromancers were off word so I really did need an update. Once I knew what I had then I could come up with some sort of plan.

Until then I was going to take a bath with a few of the slaves, naked girls and warm water always helped me to think.