Chapter 1-0: A Slice of Life

I was... free.

It was a weird thing to think, but it was true.

I was a shard of the soul of Aelryinth, spun off desperately as the damn demilich’s Curse tried to consume him. He used the opportunity to reorganize his soul, which made his Karma expenditures far, far more efficient. With the excess Karma being unnecessary, he could cut it free, and whole sections of the Curse trying to wipe him away with it.

Be Gone...

Severed from him, I naturally wasn’t him any more, and was definitely gone. The power of the Curse dropped dramatically. I also KNEW that I wasn’t him, and so a Curse directed at him floundered as its purpose was fulfilled, and lost its power to wipe me.

I was ten Levels of Karma at Nine, reflected in a mirror...

But in being this, I gave up being Aelryinth, which, since he had a True Name, meant I wasn’t Aelryinth anymore.

Mmm, that’s a weird sensation to have, knowing you aren’t yourself anymore. I’d had it twice in my life, now, sliver of him that I was...

There were going to be a bunch of us, given how much he’d been chopping away... damn, the Curse was strong...

But, it also meant I was free. Free from all the obligations and circumstances that dominated his life, the responsibilities and ties...

While they gave him great strength, they were also great chains. I was not him, so I didn’t have those chains.

I was free to do whatever I wanted to do. What a strange and marvelous thing...

No family, no Allegiance, no vassals, no peers, no rivals, no wife, no kids, no neighbors, no students, no fans, no admirers, no enemies... well, the enemies would probably stay if they knew where I came from...

But I did have another problem right now, in that I was just a slice of spirit, a bunch of Karma rolled out and drifting through the aether of the Astral Plane. Being free while being powerless wasn’t exactly a thing.

So, getting me a body was going to be a thing. There were a variety of ways to go about that, some ethical, some not, and while I wasn’t Heavenbound anymore and definitely had freedom of choice, a great deal of my strength still came from cleaving to that higher moral standing.

Stealing some random sot’s body for my own was definitely not something I was going to be doing.

In the meantime, I had to be organizing my own Karma, because I had a finite amount of it. Unfortunately, there was no way I could be mass efficient and go broad and low. Indeed, I didn’t even know if allocating Karma that way was even going to be possible for me...

Also, I couldn’t exactly follow my progenitor’s footsteps, or the remnants of the Curse clinging to me would react.

Hmm, a problematic rebuild, in a way...

But he was rebuilding himself differently, so that the Curse was also losing its tie on him, which meant I was free to do the same.

Getting away from spec Diviner, which wasn’t something I really needed at higher Levels. No, the key at higher Levels was more Spellpower. I had Master Archtheurgy, but more would not be out of line.

I wouldn’t be claiming Master Archtheurgy anytime soon, anyways. It wouldn’t be out of line to say I might never claim it, and if so, I should be planning to be at a lesser stage of power, and adjusting accordingly.

The only other way to get those Caster Levels was Star Magery, so universalist wizardry, here I come!

Wizard would still have to be Primary, maybe? Arcane Bloodline, Sage Sorcerer, would be Secondary. Archwizardry, Archsorcery, and Archmagery, slotslotslot...

I still would have some Karma left.

Monk, developing into Arcane Fist. Perfect, using Ki to enhance spells. Use the Mitharn Variant to use Intelligence as the Primary Stat.

Melee, for Staff skills... once I got a staff, of course. Went right into Battlemad.

I had enough for two more Classes. I could go dipping for more Caster Slots, or some Skill supplements.

I could do a lot with just Magos. Skills, I never had enough of.

I needed Archer, for Magical Spells Weapon Group. Shards as Primary, with Rays and Orbs part of the Group. Yes, the ranged combat class could specialize in spells instead of arrows, bolt, darts, or the like. Some spells needed to be aimed, after all.

For skills, I could take Scout, and it would be thematic to have Cunning, which represented very efficient mental skills. However, for volume of Skills and Feats, I was better off taking the NPC Expert and Vizard Classes, which gave lots of skill points and lots of Feats, respectively, at half the cost of a normal Class.

Masteries... a standard Class required 3 Mastery Advances to get to the next Level. You could take more, of course, if you were willing to spend the Karma, but that was all that was required. If I was going to advance to Ten, I could only take the minimum number, so that would have to be planned out.

Ten Levels of Wizard. Masteries were in cycles of five, so six sets.

Meditation, Concentration, and Spellcraft were basically required, especially if I wanted to make magic items.

Shardcaster Mastery was also a given, as it was my primary offensive tool. Making Scrolls came free, but Artificer Mastery would get me Potions, Wondrous Items, Wands, Weapons, and Armor. Rings, Rods, and Staves I would have to burn Feats on, but since my original had both, and Artificer Mastery gave a +2 Level equivalent like the Class, I should be eligible.

I would round it out with the Sudden Mastery, of 1/day Meta Effects to apply on the go. Nothing like them to pull a really big rabbit out of the hat in emergencies.

All other Base Classes were six Levels. All Advanced Classes were five Levels. Sorcerer, Monk, Melee, Archer, Expert and Vizard were thirty Levels.

Feats, Masteries, Class Features... it was a pleasant little puzzle to work on while I was drifting. I could gain more Levels and stuff once I got back to life of course, but what I wanted was a massively firm foundation for when I arrived... just in case.

Decisions, decisions...

---------

“Are you lost?”

I opened my non-existent eyes as the creature swooped in on me. I eyed the bone-winged, black-feathered, scythe-bearing humanoidish bird-creature that had found me floating there in the astral curiously, sifting through some reams of data.

“That depends on your definition of the term,” I replied casually. “If you are asking if I know where I am in relation to somewhere else, I am lost. If you are asking if I am unaware of the road to my destination, then no. I don’t have a destination at this moment.”

My answer seemed to give it/him pause. “You look like the discarded remnant of a soul.”

“Marginally accurate. Hastily yet precisely severed in the face of grave danger is much more precise.”

Now he seemed intrigued. “Has this to do with the remnant of the great Curse I see upon you?” He drifted closer.

Thirteen Shards snapped into existence around me. He paused, eyeing the pulsing colors of all of them, judged the threat they represented, and scooted back.

I’d had plenty of time to rebuild my Matrix to an optimal state and refill it. If this creature got feisty, it was also going to end up dead, likely faster than it believed possible.

“It does,” I replied affably, once he got to a more respectful distance. “What are you?”

“I am a psychopomp, one of the servants of the Lady of Graves, tasked to watch over those souls entering the River of the Dead and bound for the Boneyard.”

I sort of nodded. “I have no pull to the afterlife whatsoever. My steps on the Road of the Eternal have not yet ended.”

I sensed a hardening about it. “You seek an untimely return to life?”

I scoffed at it. “You seem to infer that I have left it? We are of different opinions on that matter.”

My defiance seemed to make it uncertain. “You have no mortal body...” it began, and I cut it off.

“Nor do you. A physical form is not required for life, it merely makes it easier. Regaining a physical form can be done through a multitude of ways.”

“Such things are a defiance of Fate and the natural order!” it expounded.

“And you can sense exactly how much Fate upon me?”

That seemed to rock him, and he peered more closely at me. If anything, he seemed even more appalled.

“It is the right of mortals to be free from the machinations of both Fate and Luck. When it is my time, I will decide, and go to my death as I have earned. But neither god nor destiny decides that moment for me!”

The psychopomp didn’t know whether to be outraged or impressed at my cheek. “Not against the natural order, but not of it... truly an unusual existence you are in.”

“Eh. I was fighting things capable of temporal manipulation. If you are subject to Fate, you are meat on the plate. This Curse might well have worked was I subject to either Fate or Luck.”

“I see. You avoid those tampering with the natural order by removing yourself from it. This is a dangerous path you have taken!”

“It definitely isn’t more dangerous than the path I was on,” I replied calmly.

“And how are you intending to re-enter the mortal world?” he asked me firmly, staring at me very intently.

“Well, the easiest way would be to work out how Summoned creatures form a temporary body when brought to the mortal plane, and use the power of the Curse against itself to do the same. Then simply ingesting food and drink over time will replace the body with reality.

“The second method would be Quickening the body of someone who just died, and moving in after making sure they aren’t going to be rezzed. There’s also heading my way into an infant, but since that bumps another preincarnate soul, I’d rather not go that route. Straight up body stealing is out, and possessing a construct or a corpse is a dead end, literally. Another option is cloning someone’s physical form, but anchoring my soul to the body instead of replicating an existing soul, which spares everyone, but would require some real world interaction.” I shrugged. “Shouldn’t be an issue. It’s just a matter of arranging things.”

“These are measures used by those seeking to avoid death.”

“Or return to mortal life,” I corrected idly. “No different than resurrection with a different shell.”

“Resurrections take place only at the will of the Lady of Graves!”

“Untrue. They take place when she does not stop them, which is something quite different.”

Caught in that correction, the creature flapped his bony beak, trying to find something wrong with that. Of course, I had no idea who this Lady of Graves was, and was talking a bit out my arse, but whatever.

“Who were you?” the psychopomp finally asked.

“My name was taken by the Curse, as it belongs to the original soul and no other. I suppose that right now I don’t actually have a name.” Which was pretty true.

“You still hold great power, even without a body.”

“You might say that’s by optimization,” I noted blandly, giving this angel of death something to think about.

“What were you?”

“What was the original? A magos, a monarch, a slayer of dragons, a reaper of the undead, a butcher of the Evilborn, a champion of Creation, and a servant of Heaven, among other things,” I replied evenly.

That seemed to get some interest. “A reaper of the undead?” he repeated, most curious.

“My homeworld was subjected to an Extinction Level Event. 95% of all sentient life, and most of the non-sentient, perished, and the vast majority of it rose as undead, who rapidly evolved and gained great power.

“We had to kill them all, and we did. His butcher’s tally of the undead runs into the millions.”

“You... exaggerate, surely.” Millions was a big number.

“No. It’s probably in the tens of millions, and given he was one of the great leaders and innovators of the defense, those he is indirectly responsible for run into the billions.” I paused for a moment. “We had to kill like eight billion of just the human ones, after all.”

“That... is a considerable number of undead,” he acknowledged after some thought.

“We were motivated and thorough,” I agreed impassively.

“Would you be willing to undertake similar purges of the undead?”

Ding, ding, my quest prompter just went off mentally. “If they are elective and not mandatory, I’m not opposed to wiping undead wherever I find them, on general principle. Of course, that attitude got me into the predicament I’m in right now. The Curse came from a demilich that wiped a planet, which we successfully fed to vivus.”

The reaper was silent again, clearly thinking for a long minute or two. “An unnatural creature of such power, twisting fate so powerfully... no wonder you are in such condition, and stand outside fate...”

“A-yup.”

“The Church of the Lady of Graves is vehemently opposed to the existence of the undead in the mortal world. One so skilled at fighting the undead would be greatly welcome in their ranks.”

“You are asking me to submit to the Lady of Graves? My apologies, I am a servant of Heaven. My prerogatives are the defense of the living, not the maintaining of the cycle of death. Removing the undead is eliminating a threat and sinister menace to living mortal life, and what motivates me. Cooperation to mutual goals is certainly feasible, but I will not be one of Her devotees.”

“The favor of the Lady of Graves–”

“I have spoken.” It shut him up nicely.

“You may be in need of help in locating a suitable mortal shell.”

Well, now. “Might. I can probably call up Heaven, list out my past deeds, and they could find a volunteer soon enough. As far as payment, I am the energetic sort who will soon earn them a positive return on their faith in me.”

“But we are here now.”

I inclined my head. “This is true.”

“Follow me, and we can come to terms that I do not believe you will refuse.”

I considered that, shrugged. Why not?

--------

I was definitely in an Astral Plane, because the path the angel of death led me along had many souls passing by, at first crossing our path, and then going by us as we went against the flow.

I noted many other presences around, radiating predatory desires, who backed off hastily when they noticed the presence of the reaper in front of me, and who all had hungry eyes fixed upon me.

One seemed to be a spidery woman, wound about with soulsilks and with a sneering, hungry look on her face as she stared at me. I was surprised she got close enough to see so visibly, but she didn’t seem to have much fear of my escort, who came to a halt with a grim stance about him.

“Abomination,” he hissed at the creature, which, now that I looked at it, seemed to have some similarities to him, associated with death.

She opened her oily mouth and began to laugh at him, while lines of soul silk began to rise from her. “Weak little grave slave, what is this morsel you are escorting? I think I will take it for my -erk!”

I didn’t bother to threaten the soul stealer. A full flight of Shards spun up, she had an instant to gawk at eighteen of them, all blazing with shining glory, perfect leaf-shaped wedges of multi-hued, fractal radiance, and then they drove in on her.

Each impact was positive, radiant, and five different kinds of elemental energies, all wound up inside the force structure of the Shards. The eighteen Shards were equally spaced all over her, and true to being Evilborn, her body was mostly ectoplasm, body and soul all one. Destroying the one obliterated the other, particularly with vivic energy added to the mix.

The impacts shattered her like a wall of blades sweeping past in crystalline obliteration, and painted the astral space in many hues behind her for a colorful second... before the woosh of vivic energy obliterated everything in a wash of unwhite, and there was stillness.

The other presences looking on retreated rapidly.

My escort turned to look at me, back at the removal of the soul stealer, and considered something.

“That... was a minor spell,” he observed thoughtfully.

I inclined my head. “Very good. You must have an interest in spellcrafting?”

“I have spoken with many spellcasters over the years, and seen many Casters at work.” He shook his head. “You broke many limits on that spell.”

“No, but it is good that you think so.” I waved him on. “Please continue.”

There was wariness, trepidation, and a healthy level of respect in his nod, and we resumed our course.

Nothing else even came close enough for a look at us.

-----------

The color pool was the proper hue of silver, leading to a mortal world. I could feel the harmonics with my Matrix... it was a world that basically followed the rules of the Power of Ten.

I didn’t investigate any more closely, standing away as the pyschopomp indicated the color pool leading into the prime plane.

“What are you proposing, reaper?” I asked calmly.

“Beyond the Portal lays an area of a mortal realm overrun by undead. Vast numbers of them, over a great area.” It sounded rather amused at the implications.

From out of its robes, it drew a Scroll. I could see the magic on it, tied to Fey, Druidic, and Arcane magic.

“This is a Ritual of Reincarnation.” No, it wouldn’t need multiple Casters. It would spin it out for me at the whim of something, but it wouldn’t be Fate... or Luck. There would be nothing random about it. Given the Druidic magic there, the Land would be looking on...

A Reincarnation Ritual generally took five Druids at Ten working together to pull off. Given it could give a dead old man a new young life, it was a nice alternative for the death-fearing... if you were willing to come back as a deer or badger, or a pixie, or whatnot... you never knew what the Land might do.

Supposedly Fey Warlocks could pull it off, and Mages with the appropriate divine connections. Thus, the triple traces of the magic... it wasn’t just for Druids.

“So, you want to drop me buck naked into the middle of an area infested by undead in a new body.” I rolled my eyes. “Do I look like an idiot?”

“No. But this is what you are going to get.”

Ah, shit. I heard the amusement in its voice as instead of having to read the Scroll, it simply tore it in two.

“Fuck!” I had time to say, as a whirlwind of vivimancy swirled at me out of nowhere, and grabbed me in an instant. In a second, I was whirling and plunging through the silver pool, to whatever lay beyond.

Psychopomps, damn Neutrals and their precious Balance. Of course, only having to tear a Scroll, I hadn’t been at all wary enough, so it was kind of my own damn fault...

And as I was plunging through the silver pool back to the mortal plane, there was a jerk sideways, as if something had just been redirected, and something... someone... their ties to life clearly severed, slid past me on the way to the afterlife...

Please save my baby...