Role

Chapter 5

"Fools! Incompetents!", Galathaniel Cordatus raged as he hurled a sealed jar
containing the embalmed head of a xvart against the far wall. With a crash the
jar shattered, its contents splattered against cold stone. It had narrowly
missed a row of portraits, the sullen faces of the objects of his fury.

Three failed Becomings and one sudden and unexpected retirement. He'd outlived
them all, the three Provincials and one Record Keeper. Seraxan, Karnver,
Kovich, Quthrunal... while the Empire's two Warlocks had succeeded. The elf
mage quivered inwardly, drawing a deep breath as he remembered himself - who
he was and what he stood for.

Light! They'd signed his Registry for Peace with the Fortress, yes, all except
Kovich? Seraxan? Galathaniel's face was pale, his brows furrowed. He'd valued
them, his necromantic colleagues of the so-called Dark. He'd worked to redeem
them for the Light, even as he laboured - fighting through revulsion and
contempt - to piece together their collective Knowledge of the Arts
Necromantic.

To what end? He sank wearily into an ornate, high-backed chair, his slender
hands curled tightly into clenched fists at his lap. Towards the
rehabilitation of that particular one of the Five Magicks. Towards surpassing
the arcane mastery of his kin Trothon, and gifting to all Thera a reborn
School of Ethical Necromancy!

Invocation, Transmutation, Conjuration and the Changeling School. None of
these four were inherently evil. Why then was Necromancy unique in that
regard? To be sure, there is something primally distasteful about trafficking
in corpses and carcasses. But was there not also a great good in prolonging
life, in restoring that which has expired?

He'd read with interest the writings of the ancient Magistrate Neferefre who
attends his Lady's Library. He'd spoken at length with diverse practitioners,
including the one called Itzenxilaatl. What if, he'd postulated, necromancers
forswore their vile practice of committing murder to procure corpses? What if
they kept to only reanimating the corpses of those dead to natural causes, and
with informed consent?

What if, what if instead of imbuing those corpses with Negative Energy, his
nouveau necromancers were able to tap a plane of Positive Energy, and infuse
that instead into test subjects? Yes, there was much work to be done, but he
could not do it alone - why did they abandon him? He squeezed his eyes shut,
fighting back a tear of frustration, after staring long at their portraits
upon the wall.

Outside a storm raged, the flash of lightning and peal of thunder at once
visible and audible through barred windows. It was a dark and stormy night
without. Within, the Student of Conscience's hand hovered over a copy of
Neferefre's texts... then brushed them aside for now. Clearing mind and
calming heart, he started to hum tunelessly as he reached instead for a copy
of Alisani Sanaai's 'Moral Versions of the Law'.