Shades 007: Fuckin' Miracles

Well. There ain’t really a way to rearrange the words into a saner combination.

Today, under the sanction o’ the Great Downward Engineerin’ Company, an aspirin’ necromancer about as magical as elfshit brought a dead human back to life. And the guy ain’t no zombie or vampire or whatever corpsefuckin’ else the ever delightful Rappun Athuk makes possible. Our new friend Asa the freshly reformed bandit’s all walkin’, talkin’ and breathin’ like there ain’t no tomorrow, which for a spell was uncomfortably true for him. Karina was especially ecstatic to see her husband returned, and Javier was pleased to have his best mate alive. Barrick’s somethin’ o’ a black sheep amongst that lot, havin’ not been all that close to his comrades in banditry before we up and blundered into their lives, but he seems to have lightened up a mite.

Hopefully now the lot o’ them will take the gesture as a sign o’ good trust. Past few days musta been somethin’ wretched for them, but it weren’t no leisurely stroll in the woods on our side either. It does have a bird thinkin’ though. Accordin’ to that scrap o’ paper that bookworm Bent handed me, I’m the Lord o’ these parts. I ain’t no political weasel or lawmaker but I’d wager that means if made the effort to get that title recognized I might be able to make some changes to how petty crooks are handled.

This whole spectacle was Agamemnon’s idea, admittedly. Half-orc mongrel’s been usin’ his downtime to investigate our friend Ulmann. I don’t blame him the creepy bonefucker is almost as suspicious as ol’ Bristleback. Accordin’ to Aggs he ain’t actually as downright evil as his hobbies suggest. The man’s just terrified o’ the inevitable big sleep awaitin’ everyone on this mortal coil unfortunate enough to be born a mortal, perfectly understandable really. If guy has to poke some bones and sing some shifty chants to unlock eternal life then that ain’t really huge price to pay at all.

The service with Ulmann today marks the beginnin’ o’ a longstandin’ agreement between him and the Great Downward Engineering Company. Agamemnon has somehow coaxed the necromancer into agreein’ to offer his services at a third o’ his standard price, includin’ these amateur resurrections. As payment we’ve agreed that we’ll hand him any necromantic items we sift outta Rappun’s guts. Sure the feathers on my ass it’ll piss off any potential Great Downward recruits dabblin’ in such dark dank arts, but I ain’t gonna worry about recruits I don’t have when there’s cheap tickets outta death on offer.

So a bird earns his own roost without havin’ to even steal a copper, and a dead man lives thanks to the magic someone else ain’t got the capacity to wield. What can I say we’re made o’ fuckin’ miracles up in this godsforsaken castle. The plan tomorrow is to set foot in the Mouth o’ Doom- if I don’t write again it means some asshole don’t think their boss is worth even 1000 gold. Fair fuckin' enough I guess.