Be Careful What You Wish For (Nalifan)

[Raj Ahten]

It's good to see that someone in this kingdom is passable at espionage. Given the normal aversion to magic around there, it is quite interesting the duke has an agent that can tell what Nalifan is up to magically.

[Imperial Overlord]

Nalifan stepped passed the household knight and into the chambers beyond. Tapestries with hunting scenes covered the wall and a deep red carpet marked with alternating patterns of yellow and black symbols covered most of the floor. Couches and chairs were arranged around a space in the middle for hosting conversations with guests and a fireplace off to the side provided heating for the suite. "Please come this way sir," said boy in his mid teens, probably a squire to one of the knights. He was lead into another room.

Duke Ericorn sat at the end of a long table. With him were a dozen of his household knights and personal retainers. The duke was a big, broad shouldered man with a hawk nose and honey-blond hair and beard. A few stray hairs of grey flecked his hair. On his right was a younger, clean shaven version of himself. Both of them wore the blue and silver of their house. On the duke's left was a rotund, middle aged man in plain robes and a pale, slender man with dark hair and beard.

The duke froze, a hard boiled egg in one hand and a spoon on the other. "Lord Nalifan, I'm pleased that you've found the time to call on me. Would you care to break your fast with us?"

"No thank you," replied the drow. "I ate earlier. I'm impressed. I didn't know your personal quarters included its own dining chamber."

"My family has had a major presence at court before there even was a palace," said Ericorn. "We stole our ancestral lands at sword and lance point, the old fashioned way." He smiled. "Marcosa here tells me that the demon you killed was very powerful and that if you were not equally powerful your sorcery would not have been able to slay it."

"He is, generally speaking, correct," replied Nalifan. "We can dance around all day with veiled references to spies and observers and unknown intentions, or we can cease wasting time which we have in limited supply and cut out the heart of the matter."

"The expression, my dear fellow, is cut to the heart of the matter," said the priest as he sprinkled a large mass of scrambled eggs with salt and pepper.

"Maybe in your tongue, but not in mine," replied Nalifan. He turned his gaze back to Ericorn. "Well?"

"Subtlety isn't your strong suite, is it?" asked the duke as he peeled off chunks of eggshell.

You have no idea, thought Nalifan. "There are times when it is useful and there are times when direct speech is more productive," replied the arch-necromancer. "Which route we take depends on you."

"Heh," said the duke as he salted his egg. A door opened and Therasa glided in, wearing only a fur lined robe. She slid around behind the duke, pausing to caress his shoulder. He eyes never left the drow. See what you're missing, she all but shouted.

Ericorn bit the egg in half and chewed. "Speak your piece," he said after a moment.

"What kind of support will you give me?" Nalifan asked.

"Anything you want, within reason," replied the duke. "Surprised? Not all of us are fools. Three kingdoms, one substantially greater than we are, fight the way we fight and were trampled by Khaduli hooves. My wife and younger children have been sent to the far north and I'm levying and training every able bodied man in my lands and no few of the women and I know it won't be enough. So what do you want?"

"A contingent of cavalry that will take my orders. Outriders and scouts as well as household knights. As many as you can bring here on short notice."

"So you can prove your boast to the king."

"I need witnesses and I need to see your people in action. That's only half of what I require."

"Oh?" said Therasa. "What else?"

"I need you to house and supply every mage that responds to my summons and I need you to get the word out."

"Arcane magic is not esteemed by many in these lands," said the duke. "Do you think whatever hedge wizards and witchmen you can gather will make much of a difference?"

"Yes," said Nalifan. But not for the reasons you think. "What is the expression? They shall be my finger on the scale, tilting the balance."

"I fear you are too optimistic, but the contents of my coffers will aid me not at all if the Khaduli win," said Duke Ericorn. "Very well. Handren."

"Yes father?"

"You shall command our contingent. The lord mage will be in command. Support him in this."

Handren rose and inclined his head to his father. "As you command, sire."

"This is my son's life I'm giving into your hands elf," said Ericorn. "Don't fail me."

"I have no intention of getting him killed, but this is war. Things don't go according to plan and people die. That's the nature of the beast. The odds of him returning home intact will be pretty good and I intend to use shaved dice, but until the knuckle bones come to rest no one can be sure of the outcome."

"Fair enough," said Ericorn. "When will you be leaving?"

"As soon as possible. The Khaduli are overdue for a lesson in fear."

[LadyTevar]

"Subtlety isn't your strong suite, is it?" asked the duke as he peeled off chunks of eggshell.

You have no idea, thought Nalifan.

This is the best quote

[Imperial Overlord]

Miranna raised her hand to the door and hesitated. When she had been younger she had dreamed of becoming an apprentice to a great mage, a dream that had come true when Varnar Gest had passed through her town on his way to Elven Court and she and several other would be students had demonstrated their feeble magics before the eyes of the great wizard. He did not forget her and returned in two years to test her and take her into his student cadre. It had been one of the happiest moments of her life.

Now she stood before the door of an even greater mage and she hesitated. Nalifan's behavior was just short of scandalous and the only reason it wasn't worse was that the court wasn't paying attention to his personal life. By the Old Father's beard she had shown up one morning and he had been lying with his whore. He had had taken his time answering the door and when he had done so he was barely dressed. The room had smelled of sex. He hadn't shown even the slightest hint of embarrassment. He was maddening.

She took a deep breath and knocked. The door opened immediately. Nalifan smiled at her, fully dressed thank the gods. "You're here," he said, stepping away from the door. "Excellent."

Miranna stepped inside, half expecting to see some kind of evidence of inhuman debauchery strewn about the floor or visible in the adjoining room. The only thing close was Shad, a black and grey tabby, yawning and rolling over in his basket next to the work table. The shelf behind the cat was full of glass jars, which mostly contained demon parts harvested from the courtyard.

A slim folio was on the table. Nalifan tapped it with his right hand. "I want you to take a look at this and tell me what you think."

She nodded and sat down. He slid the book over to her. She opened it up. The book was tall and wide, but thin. There were perhaps a dozen pages inside. She looked at the first page. "Elven spell glyphs. Simple ones."

"Please continue," said Nalifan. She turned the page, scanned it, and flipped to the next one.

"What is this? Some kind of spellbook?"

"Yes."

"My lord, with all due respect, these spell formulae are simple. Basic. We use much more effective sorceries. I know that your abilities far outstrip my own, but this material . . ."

"Excellent," said Nalifan. "That was, generally speaking, precisely the response I was hoping for. Your magic borrows heavily from the elvish tradition, which is hardly surprising, and I thought this was well within your capabilities." His lips curled into a sly smile. "The spells are simplistic. They are not the most effective or efficient ways of utilizing the energies involved. They are relatively easy to counter. All of this is true. They are also easy to learn and an adept's relative level of skill can readily be determined by which spells he or she can easily master and utilize. Get very familiar with them. Make your own copy of this book. And be ready to teach them."

"Teach?"

"Duke Ericorn is gathering every mage and charlatan he can get his hands on. I'll be away and Gest will be attending the queen which means you get the honor of sorting the gold from the brass, no that's not local, ah wheat from the chaff."

"You want me to train . . ."

"As many mages as Ericorn can gather. Using these." Nalifan tapped the book. "It'll help with the sorting and give everyone a common base of reference. You'll have to go wherever Ericorn houses them and take charge. Make sure Ericorn gives you one of his household knights. Symbol of authority and all that. Also, given what's coming, things could get ugly. Murder, riots, hysteria, all that unpleasantness associated with the citizens coming to grip with the idea that the end of their world is near."

Nalifan neglected to mention that although the bodyguard was for her benefit, it was also effectively giving Ericorn a hostage. Which the duke hadn't asked for, but considering that Nalifan was taking his son and heir into a killing field, he would probably appreciate. Not that Nalifan intended any harm to come to the boy. He would make a spectacular witness to the might and majesty of Nalifan's own magic.

The expeditionary force was gathering. There were lords among it who would become accustom to taking Nalifan's orders. He had begun gathering his mage cadre and left it in good hands. He had allies in court. Now all he had to do was win.

[Eleas]

Nalifan's behavior was just short of scandalous and the only reason it wasn't worse was that the court wasn't paying attention to his personal life. By the Old Father's beard she had shown up one morning and he had been lying with his whore. He had had taken his time answering the door and when he had done so he was barely dressed. The room had smelled of sex. He hadn't shown even the slightest hint of embarrassment. He was maddening.

Lovely chapter. Miranna seems rather taken with Nalifan, doesn't she?

[Brain_Caster]

An army off hedge wizard- and witchmen-conscripts using a simplified system of magic? Very interesting, and it might seriously change their society's perception of magic, once the war is over.

[LadyTevar]

Nalifan's behavior was just short of scandalous and the only reason it wasn't worse was that the court wasn't paying attention to his personal life. By the Old Father's beard she had shown up one morning and he had been lying with his whore. He had had taken his time answering the door and when he had done so he was barely dressed. The room had smelled of sex. He hadn't shown even the slightest hint of embarrassment. He was maddening.

Lovely chapter. Miranna seems rather taken with Nalifan, doesn't she?

Nalifan has that effect on women.

[Imperial Overlord]

Nalifan stroked the edge of Lania's jaw. The drow was wearing a heavy tunic and breeches under robe and cloak. "Watch yourself when I'm away. Don't attract any attention."

"You think I'm in danger?"

"No," the drow lied, "but, however unlikely, I could be wrong and I won't be around to do anything about it. At least not for some time. So keep your head down."

She dropped her head and turned away. "As you say, my lord."

"Good girl," said Nalifan with a smile. He gently turned her head back to face him and kissed her softly on the lips. "Don't forget to feed the cats."

He backed away and saluted her, before heading out the door and down the stairs. Flakes of snow fell lazily from the sky and formed a thin layer of white on the ground. He descended three stories and strode quickly down the hall before exiting into the courtyard where around three hundred mounted men were assembled. He approached a knot of men and women at the front.

They were armoured from neck to toe in gleaming steel plate. Axes, maces, and swords were belted at their sides or hanging from their saddles. Nalifan inclined his head. "Princess Darmira. How do you like your first command?"

"I like it very well," she said coolly. "So far you have been as good as your word." She made a hand gesture and a squire brought forth a coal black steed. Nalifan waved it away and walked beside her horse.

"I try," he replied. "The really important part of this part of the endeavour is the supply train."

"Which you went over," said Handren. "Twice."

"It's not that I don't trust you," said Nalifan, "it's that I don't know you. And both of your fathers are going to be very unhappy if you die because I failed to check the work of men whose competency is unknown to me. Be happy Handren. You impressed me and you haven't even left the palace yet."

Nalifan walked towards the palace gates and the knot of lords followed suit. Behind them came the knights and the lower born horsemen. People looking out the windows and on the battlements began to cheer. Darmira smiled and it was as if the sun had peaked through the clouds. Then her expression grew grim. Nalifan traced her eyeline. "Don't be upset," he said. "That's my fault."

"How is my father's disdain your fault?" she said acidly.

"I neglected to mention that I was taking his daughter into battle," said Nalifan. "He's probably pissed he's just learning about it now and not really able to do anything about it on such short notice without losing face. Besides, you're dead meat one way or another unless I can win."

"Do you enjoy courting danger?"

"I need generals with influence and who know how to win. That's not fighting the old way. Which means young, inexperienced, and bright enough to learn."

"Us," she said.

"New tricks, young dogs," said Nalifan. "And you're the right class to ram it down the throats of the rest."

"You're assuming victory," said Handren.

"If I lose, my problems are over," said Nalifan. "As for being worried, it takes more than the Khaduli. They're a bunch of unwashed human horse barbarians with a better than average skill set. Show me an infernal or a demilich and then I'll get worried. Well, I'll actually get worried if their chief wizard shows up, which is why I'm staying here."

"What?!"

"Trust me. I'll show up at the right time. I just need to convince their chief wizard and his very clever Nalifan detection method that I'm still here, right up until the moment I'm not. I'll be watching you. If there's trouble you can't handle, I'll show up. Until then, this army is yours."

[Imperial Overlord]

Darmira sat down on the cot in front of the brazier. "By the Mother and the Father everything aches," she said. She rubbed her hands over the fire. The heat helped bring them back to life, but now they were itching abominably. She rubbed them together more and scratched.

Her tent was small by the standards of dukes and princes. There was no personal shrine or curtained off area for concubines and retainers. It was just large enough to host a small gathering that did not mind being in close quarters with each other. She pulled her hands back and rubbed them. The infernal itching had begun to recede.

"Let me help you," said Stasia. A generous man might call the blond woman handsome. She was too strong boned and heavily built to be pretty. She s stood behind the princess and began removing the pauldron's from the her shoulder's. Stasia's braid of blond hair dangled down and brushed Darmira's face.

"That tickles."

"Sorry," said Stasia as she pulled her braid away.

"You didn't have to do this," said Darmira quietly.

"What? Follow you into battle?"

"Any of this. Train all those hours. Sparing. Warring. I know it doesn't call to you. We would still be . . . friends."

"Where you go highness, I go," said Stasia quietly. "I do not have your fire for war, but my place is at your side whether it is silk gowns or steel. My heart will follow wherever you lead."

"Stase," said Darmira as she turned towards the other woman.

"I am yours, highness. Command me."

"Stase," said Darmira, her voice full of longing. The tips of her fingers brushed the other woman's face. Stasia clenched the princess's hand.

Darmira rose and pulled the other woman close. The princess's lips brushed Stacia's ear. "I want you. Now and until the end of time."

Stasia turned her head and their lips touched in a passionate kiss. "Gods damn all armour," Stasia whispered.

"Shut up and help me out of this harness. I'll have you crying out to the gods soon enough."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hruk raised his hand to signal the rest of the band to duck down. They did, taking cover behind the snow frosted bushes. Hruk peered through the gaps in the foliage to watch the figure walking up the snow covered slope.

His face, and flat faces who ventured out like this were almost always men, was covered by a hood. He was short and slim, more a body than a man. Easy prey, as long as they didn't spook him before he got close. Flat face meat was not easy to come by these days.

It had been different in the days of the great tribes, or so the elders said. Back then the Heroes has not been confined to rocky hills and cold mountains and had hunted flat faces on the planes and warred with forest devils in the woods. They had killed their men, taken their women as brood bitches, and enslaved or eaten their children. Now Heroes killed flat face hunters and trappers along with the occasional farmer while fighting and hiding from their day stalkers.

"I want to play with him before he dies," whispered Lerka. He had eyes for her and she knew it. She was fair enough. Her skin had more grey in it than green and her jaw was long and filled with fine tusks. Her hair was confined in dark braids and her arms were muscular and marked by many scars. She would bear some Hero many strong whelps one day.

"Silence," said Gorth. He was old, passed thirty, but cunning and his muscles were still iron-hard. "He's coming right to us." He gripped his spear. "I don't like the smell of this. This is a day stalker trap."

"Exposed? With no help for miles? No," hissed Kruzak, a Hero even younger and more impetuous than Hruk. The traveller was close now, scarcely more than two dozen yards away. With a smooth motion Kruzak rose, an arrow knocked in his sturdy bow of horn and bone. He let fly, aiming low.

Nalifan was leaping aside before the orc's arrow left the bow. His hood fell as the drow easily avoided the missile. The arch-necromancer laughed and made a slicing gesture with his hands as he spoke words, his voice impossibly deep. An invisible blade sliced through Kruzak's left shoulder and continued through his body, exiting at his right hip. Blood sprayed the snow as the two pieces of the orc's body plopped on the ground.

Lerka rose with a cry and a throwing spear in her hand. The blade flew through the air towards the advancing drow. Nalifan stretched out a hand and seized it, tossed it up spinning into the air, and caught it again, ready to throw. He flicked the fingers of his left hand an intoned words of power. Lerka fell with locked muscles.

Hrusk got a good look at his foe's face. Silver hair, ruby eyes, delicate features, blacker than black skin, and pointed ears. A forest devil, although he looked like no forest devil he had ever heard of. The rest of his band was charging with him, all but Gorth. The old orc had instead run out of the thicket and up the slope.

Nalifan's right hand moved in an arc in front of the orc line. The ruby, sapphire, emerald, and topaz jewels on the bronze rings glowed like captive stars. An arc of scarlet fire erupted in the snow and rushed towards the orcs, growing as it did so. It was twice Nalifan's height as it neared Hruk. The orc had just enough time to feel his eyes start to boil and his hair ignite and then the flames washed over him. For a moment they were preserved as dark silhouettes, jerking and twitching in the sheet of flame and then the fire died.

Nalifan steeped through the cloud of scalding steam his fire spell had left in it's passage. It would take far greater heat than that to harm him. All but one of the orcs had fallen and lay twisted and blackened on the scorched ground. Nalifan hefted the spear and threw, catching the fleeing orc in the leg. He sprawled on the ground.

The arch-necromancer stepped over the dead and towards the dying. Gorth rolled over to face Nalifan. He cursed the elf. Nalifan smiled amiably. The orc pulled out a dagger, speckled with rust and snarled before he ripped the blade across his own throat. Dark blood gushed out and stained his greasy furs. Nalifan waited for him to finish dying and then approached the body.

He extended his left hand gestured while he whispered grim and secret words. Darkness seemed to congeal in the orc's blood and then rose up in a plume of unnatural shadow-smoke. Nalifan inhaled deeply and sucked in the shadow-smoke. The whites of his eyes turned oily black.

The arch-necromancer stood silent and still for a score of heartbeats and then his eyes returned to normal. "So the rangers were right. You were the ones who knew where to find one. Barring the faerie, the north is definitely the better half of the country."

[LadyTevar]

I'm amused that the Orks think of themselves as "heros"

[Raj Ahten]

Just what is Nalifan looking for? A dragon perhaps? We'll know soon enough I suppose.

[Eleas]

I'm amused that the Orks think of themselves as "heros"

Mee too. You have to admit though, they are the underdogs here.

[Enigma]

I'm amused that the Orks think of themselves as "heros"

For a brief moment I thought that IO was about to pull a M. Night Shamalamadingdong and have Nal realize that he's playing for the wrong team.

[Skyfox120]

I'm amused that the Orks think of themselves as "heros"

For a brief moment I thought that IO was about to pull a M. Night Shamalamadingdong and have Nal realize that he's playing for the wrong team.

Since generally the only team Nalifan plays for is his own team, by default he never is 'playing for the wrong team'

[Rahvin]

Nalifan is being forced by magic to fight for this "side." I'm sure that, given his own free will back, he'd annihilate half the kingdom for their violation of his very self-determination (and their insolence). Remember, if his friends find him and try to help by attacking the kingdom, Nal would actually be compelled to try to kill people he cares about - a list that is exceedingly short, and something that would hurt him badly.

There is no "right" side here. There are only desperate people resorting to unethical means to survive, and Nalifan is just the unfortunate victim.

Personally, I can't wait to see what happens when Nal breaks free (either by completing the task for which he was summoned or by his associates finding a way to release him). The words "wailing and gnashing of teeth" spring to mind.

[LadyTevar]

I think the top of Nalifan's list right now might be the Prince... just so the kingdom is rid of useless baggage.

[Imperial Overlord]

The great raven soared over the mountains, riding a thermal updraft on outstretched wings. Below him snow covered mountains formed a great chain that separated the realms of men from that of the untamed wild. Tree covered mountain slopes gave way to snow filled valleys.

A mile away a wyvern lazily circled in the air, it's sharp eyes searching the ground for prey. It's wings beat the air as it caught sight of the raven and changed coarse. It was a big brute, with scales the colour of dried blood and claws large enough to hold a horse. It's poison stinger tipped tail trailed behind it as it closed on the raven.

The great raven neither flinched nor changed course. From beneath dark eyes a dim, bestial intelligence regarded the great raven. A wyvern's senses were almost as good as those of a true dragon and their stunted intellect allowed a limited comprehension on their cousin's tongue. By the standards of men they were stupid but by the standards of beasts they were very smart indeed. It ate up the distance between it and its intended prey quickly.

Jade lightning flashed in the great raven's eyes and then flowed over his feathers. The wyvern recognized magic and altered course, turning away from a foe that could hurt it and resuming pursuit of easier prey. In some ways, it was smarter than men.

The great raven had spied his intended destination and began his descent. Before him stretched slopes that were untouched by snow and instead possessed thick grass and green trees. They lead into a valley that was bereft of snow and vegetation. It was an expense of cracked and barren ground marked by two pits of boiling mud and the pure white bones of gargantuan beasts.

As the great raven closed the skeletons were revealed to be those of immense creatures with long necks, great wings, and massive horned heads. The dragon bones jutted up from the ground like the teeth of the land, lashed clean by elements and gleaming under the weak northern sun. There were three nearly complete skeletons visible, one of such enormous size it had to have been a great wyrm that perished of old age. The raven landed between the two geysers and in front of the great wyrm skeleton. An elephant could stand beneath under its spine without touching bone.

The great raven folded his wings around him and his form flowed and contracted, the black breaking down into a mix of others colours. In a moment Nalifan stood in his place. "What a beauty you are," said the drow softly. "I will make of you such a weapon that thrones will break and nations will topple."

In the boiling mire closest to Nalifan, maybe twenty yards away, great bubble of sludge broke the surface and rose slowly. The bubble collapsed to reveal an elderly man wearing a cloak made from the skins of a dozen different animals over stained leather tunic and breaches. His hair and beard were a tangled mess of black and grey and his eyes were dark and piercing. He had a nose like a hawk and although he carried a staff there was no weakness in his movements. "Stranger," he said in clear Elvish, "you must leave this place. It is holy and under my protection."

"Druids," hissed Nalifan, under his breath. It was almost a curse. "Great will be the suffering and destruction if I cannot complete my quest," said Nalifan. "Stand aside. I have no wish to harm you, but I will not be denied."

"All things suffer and die," said the druid, "for that is the nature of things. The Balance and the Circle must be served." The druid stared at the drow for a moment. "If you can demonstrate to me that you will not violate this place with your actions, then I will permit them."

"Old man," said Nalifan, "I'm going to rape this place like an orc warband sacking a nunnery and there is nothing you can do but become another body for me to walk over. Take some solace in knowing that your precious Balance and Circle will ultimately be served by what I do here."

"So the end justifies the means, eh?"

"I don't give a flying fuck about your Balance or your Circle," said Nalifan. "Stand in the way of my road to victory and you will die. Stand aside and live. Ultimately, what I will do here will serve your cause. Your only choice is whether or not you'll be around to see it."

The druid extended his finger and shouted words. Blood red light blazed a line from his digit to Nalifan's chest. Blood coloured lighting crackled around the drow and slid down his garments, dancing and crackling as it sank into the the earth leaving a half dozen scorch marks around the drow and Nalifan completely untouched.

Nalifan pointed at the druid. "This is how you do it." He snarled words of his own and his eyes flared with ghost light as a crackling beam of ruby and ebon shot from his finger and struck the druid in the chest. The man lay unmoving and still in the mud. "Fool," said Nalifan. He turned away, back towards the great wyrm's bones and then back.

There was an opportunity here and he would take it. He walked to the edge of the boiling mire. The druid's corpse, no longer supported by his powers, had sunk beneath the surface but that was no barrier to his abilities. He took out small bag and dropped a pinch of a mixture that contained gold dust, ground bone, and powdered cinderheart flowers. He made a pair of complicated passes with his hands, shaping the energy flow, as he spoke words of power. Then he stepped back.

A mud caked hand broke the surface and then another. Slowly, clumsily the corpse of the druid pulled itself out of the boiling mire. Much of its flesh had already sloughed, leaving it a monster of bone, gristle, and mud. Nalifan smiled. "I did warn you. I name you . . . Blightmaker and you shall serve me until I have no further use for you."

The undead monster bowed before his master, but the arch-necromancer was already turning away. "Such a treasure you are," Nalifan said to the dragon bones, "and already you have given me an unexpected boon. Now to kill two more birds with the same stone."

[Brain_Caster]

Ahh, those pesky, annoying little druids. Oh, well, just one more zombie for Nalifan's undead army, right?

That druid was an idiot. Can't say I feel especially sorry for him, after all this balance-crap. And Nalifan is his typical morally ambiguous self - grey, not black or white, and I still can't decide wether it's a relatively light or dark shade of grey.

Incidentally, what's Nalifan's alignment? I'm guessing chaotic neutral, but that's mostly because everything else seems so totally wrong for him. It's like he changes alignment all over the place every few hours or so, yet somehow the character is completely consistent and believable.

[Enigma]

I wonder, if Nal cannot harm the king nor his family, does that also apply to his undead creations? Can they harm the royal family?

[Imperial Overlord]

I pick alignments based on what comes closet to describing the character's personality and with Nalifan that happens to be chaotic neutral. it best describes his individualistic outlook and his lack of constraint by law and custom, which considering what laws and customs he grew up with is not such a bad thing. He isn't malicious enough and to prone to magnanimous gestures to be classified as evil and he is too selfish, cruel, and vengeful to be good. He can be a good neighbor, a faithful friend, a savior, or a terrible enemy as the situation calls for and as he sees fit.

As for the undead, Nalifan is bound not to harm the king and that certainly means prevents him from setting his servants against the king. There are plenty of foes for them to fight. On the other hand, there are these breathing, free willed beings around him that could initiate all sorts of actions without an order from him if properly prepared or motivated. If these preparations would be pretty much identical to making allies to push through a course of action that would save the kingdom, why then he would be able or perhaps even compelled to take those steps even if he didn't wish to by the very binding that ties his hands.

Things have already been set in motion.

[LadyTevar]

I have a feeling the Druid got turned into a rather nasty version of Undead, not just a 'simple' zombie.

As for the Great Wyrm... You can tell by the way Nalifan croons to the bones he is wanting to make this one a work of Art.
Knowing Nalifan, it will be both terrifying and beautiful.

[SITB]

Imperial Overlord in your version of 'Forgotten Realms' is nercomany inherently evil, or just immoral?

Anyway, I think that's a mistake here:

He made a pair of complicated passes with his hands, shaping the energy flow, as he spoke worlds of power.

[White Haven]

Nalifan can be such an asshole sometimes, I love it.

As for speaking worlds of power...very complex vocal cords?

[LadyTevar]

To Nalifan, it is simply a powerful tool. What he does with it is what makes it moral or immoral.

In this case, to his thinking, he's going to use it to save a Kingdom. That makes it 'right'.
And even Kaeryn, the NG Priestess of Magic, would agree with him... although killing the druid guardian would have her wincing and asking if 'there wasn't a better way' to handle that.

[SITB]

I meant more on the line of is necromancy* the art of (usually) using negative energy to animate dead bodies, or is it the damning process of forever ripping a soul from the afterlife and forcing it to serve you for all eternity in decaying corpse (etc,etc..) ?

Or more to the point, is necromancy in itself an utterly repugnant field of study or just an unseemly branch of magic?


*True necromancy that is. Just casting, say, Enervation or other spells from the necromancy type doesn't count.