Gerald woke up to find Hermina lying next to him on the bed. Her deathly pale look seemed to accentuate her face in a way that Gerald didn't like as much, but he knew it was something that she couldn't control. He still found her plenty attractive, but he felt guilty even with the thought. 'She's my servant. Not a plaything.' He looked out the window and saw the light around the edges of the curtain. He covered the Vampress with the blanket, and covered her head as well. 'I can't risk losing her.' He thought. He pulled himself out of bed and rubbed his eyes. The day was probably close to noon, but there was no time to waste. Especially before the winter.
He quickly rose, and smelt himself. Shuddering at the stench that came from his armpits, he quickly resolved to have a bath, if he could find the water. Salt water baths would just hurt his skin after all, especially with multiple baths of that kind. He pulled on the magic and did change his clothes, however. He was dressed like a traveler, pulling his cloak around himself, and he then hurried out of the door and down the stairs.
Out in the daylight, he was surprised to see the entire place full of activity. Non-magi were running here and there, with their children in tow, filling in the higher class houses that were near him. Gerald smiled at them and said good afternoon to them as he passed and walked across the plaza to the town hall. Some bowed, other just replied the greeting, and even more just stared openly at their king. It was common practice Necromantic kings of old to greet their subjects every morning, not live in a castle, and to be in the battle amongst the Vampires and Lyches. But for now…
He wandered into the town hall, and found Rory directing the people around him, including one very tired looking Vampire who was acting as a scribe. "My Lord!" Rory said, seeing him enter and bowing. "My lord, I hope you have rested well." Gerald said yes and the man continued. "Well, my Lord, I have been directing the people to move further up the hill for their protection. There is a possibility, at least according to Master Northrup here," He nodded to the Vampire, "that the Everseekers could track us to this new location."
"Very wise." Gerald replied with a smile. "Are you sure that you wouldn't rather be king than me?" Rory shook his head, and Gerald muttered under his breath. "Worth a try."
"My king, please don't jest about this. Take your role seriously. We will be absolutely taking ours seriously after all." He then turned and looked at the tired Vampire. "Northrup here is pretty tired, but he's been helping me write things down."
"Can you not write?"
"No, my lord. It's something that we forgot to train our children on almost one hundred years ago, though my father self-taught himself and was attempting to teach my kids."
"Then you should learn." Gerald replied. "In fact, I wish I had the resources to teach every person in the city of Portal to read, write, and do basic math."
"True, but we should discuss the biggest problems that we have."
"I'm assuming that it is water and food?"
"And firewood." The non-magi responded. "Most of the homes up here have stoves, and ones without we can add stoves too soon enough, but we'll need firewood to keep us from freezing to death."
Gerald thought for a moment, and Rory Davith was patient in waiting for an answer. "How close is the nearest forest?"
"About a day's journey by foot. I sent men to find that out earlier this morning." The Necromancer smiled and nodded his approval. "I hope you told them to get some seeds as well, if the trees have them."
"I… I did not." Rory admitted. "My apologies for failing you."
"No failure done." Gerald responded, his smile wide. "You didn't have any idea about it. My thought is that we should redesign the city over the coming years and include a grove of trees for the people to enjoy up near the middle district." He looked at the tired Vampire. "Northrup, you can go sleep."
"Thank you!" The Vampire stated, obviously exhausted, before walking over to one of the darker corners of the room, laying down, and suddenly joining the deathly sleep of his people.
The Necromancer felt his power, and was sad that it was only about three-quarters of its normal amount. 'Well, I did let Hermina feed on me.' He thought, consolingly. 'And it has been a busy week.' "Rory… thank you so much for your hard work."
"It is nothing, my king." The man assured him.
"I'm not a king yet." Gerald said with a grin. "And I wish that I never was going to be."
"But you will. Would you prefer 'my prince' instead?"
"Gods no!" Gerald replied with a laugh. "I would prefer to simply be normal Gerald, son of Gor, son of Gorbash however."
"Great men must rise for great times." Rory Davith replied. "At least that's what dad always says."
"Said…" The Necromancer corrected, sadly. "I… I have some bad news…"
Overall, Rory handled the initial reaction well, but the tears were welling in his eyes before the end.
"So… the disfigured and black skeleton… it was my father?" The Necromancer nodded. Rory took a deep breath. "My Lord… can I-"
"Yes." Gerald interjected, patting the man on the shoulder. "Go do what you need to do, after you show me to the graves of the magi who died."
Rory looked at him, wiping away a tear. "Of course."
The bodies were buried near one of the walls, and Gerald was pleased to see that they had been taken with the city. Gerald raised many of them with a raise of his hand. The skeletons rose from the freshly turned over dirt, pulling themselves out of the ground, some with pieces of clothing still attached. They stood tall in the afternoon sun. "Thank you Rory. You are excused."
"What… what are you going to do with them?" Rory Davith asked, his eyes curious, but sad.
"The people will need help getting everything set up." The Necromancer acknowledged, "And these are soldiers and servants who will never tire, rebel, and will not age for a long time." He smiled as around 200 Skeletons got up. 'Now I'm curious.' He felt for the skeletons back at the old location. What he found was that only around 10 were still alive, and they were quickly being killed off, '3… 2… 1…' They were gone. Only the skeletal commander that had been raised in the southern provinces remained, and it was moving further south to the old crypts as he had directed. The Zombies he had raised as well were all scattered again, sleeping under the soil, except for a few still causing chaos for the Everseekers who were left behind. (He was happy to sense that there were less of those than before) He cut off his connection with them, worrying about it possibly being traced back to the new location. He focused more on the Skeletons again, and raised one of them to the rank of a Skeleton commander. The commander got on one knee, and the others did the same. "What is your desire?" It asked, its skeletal voice calm.
"Help the people of this town in whatever they stand in need of." He ordered. "Aid them in all tasks, if they so desire, but be at the southern gates for guard duty at dusk."
The skeletal commander didn't even wait. He just rose, repeated the order to the other skeletons, and then they all went their separate ways. Rory watched them all go, before turning, saying goodbye to the Necromancer, and walking away. He had some bad news to tell his brothers and their families…
Gerald frowned after him and thanked the gods, inwardly, for him. He may still not be allowed to worship, but he could give credit where credit was due. The Davith family would continue to serve, even despite the large gap in years since a Necromancer had ruled over the city of Portal.
He walked back to the town hall, and hoped and prayed that they had a map inside, so he could begin to prepare the city for some renovations…