Zion - LotNM Character Prologue (Anya Fanewatcher)

Story by comidacomida on SoFurry

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Zion - Path of the Moon Mother Prologue, Anya Fanewatcher

Brother Lafred helped Caretaker Whein move the heavy stone slab that blocked the staircase leading down into the crypt; Anya simply watched, and listened. Caretaker Whein had been working in the graveyard for weeks and all of the strange happenings, according to him, always seemed to originate from the crypt.

"See? What'd I tell you?" the Caretaker noted in victory, pointing out the streaks of blood on the stone steps leading down to the catacombs, "Someone's been here." the old hyena crossed his arms as if the statement were the final word in an argument. If he thought that were the case then Anya realized he was sorely mistaken.

"Not someONE..." Anya spoke up, "...someTHING."

"Undead?" Brother Lafred asked immediately, the boar's snout twitching.

"I cannot say." the priestess responded to the priest. What she didn't further explain was that it wasn't that she didn't know, rather, it was because she preferred not to answer. Brother Lafred nodded without getting the clarification-- most unfortunate for him. Even less fortunate was the fact that he was closest to the stairway.

"Alright... Caretaker," Brother Lafred glanced back toward the hyena, "see if you can find a--AAAAAAAAHHH!!" the boar's exclamation of surprise and alarm turned into a squeal of complete and utter pain as a skeletal paw emerged from his back, having been pushed through his entire bulk from the front. Its digits splayed out like a grappling hook latching onto a firm surface and in the blink of an eye, Brother Lafred was pulled into the darkness within the catacombs, disappearing from view.

"Moon Goddess preserve us..." Caretaker Whein whimpered, ears falling flat on either side of his head. Anya almost smiled when she saw him take a well-advised step back.

"Stay here." Anya ordered, and, with nothing more to be said, she descended the steps. Further away in the darkness she could hear the cries, squeals, and screams of Brother Lafred. The fact that he was still alive explained much; she would be dealing with ghouls-- Anya greatly enjoyed dealing with ghouls.

Of all the lesser undead, ghouls were the least common. Anya had the opportunity to combat them only on rare occasions but she was unconcerned; most battles with corporal undead followed a basic six step policy that the jackal priestess knew by heart-- she did, after all, create it.

Step one: find a source of power. The jackal's bare feet touched the stone steps and the fresh, warm blood that covered them. Feeling the resonating fear and pain flow through her like a blast of cold air in the summer, Anya realized that Brother Lafred had assisted with step one. She knelt down and brushed a paw across the blood. Bringing it to her muzzle, the priestess gingerly sniffed at the sanguine fluid; she could smell his agony and let it infuse all of her senses as the power of it imbued her already significant magical reserves.

Step two: even the battlefield. The senses of the undead were not those of mortals. Undead were capable of seeing without light, smelling without breath, and, functioning with limited or no use of organs. While Anya did not care about the second two aspects of undeath, the lack of light within the catacombs presented her with a problem. Willing the mana to flow through her, the jackal supplemented her keen eyesight with a simple enchantment, allowing her to see far better in the dark than anyone without such magical augmentation.

Step three: never expect to get the first strike. With timed precision and reaction bordering on precognition, Anya threw herself against the stone wall of the tunnel. Ghouls, she knew, always aimed for the heart which meant that, assuming you side-stepped in the right direction, it was easier to avoid the surprise attack. Reaching out her right paw, the priestess latched onto the rotting flesh of the undead ocelot's wrist.

Step four: make your first strike the last strike. Drawing upon the swirling cloud of agony that still flowed freely in the tunnel, Anya pulled at the tangled, miswoven skein of the ghoul's essence-- life energy that should have frayed and pulled apart long before she touched it. Tendrils of black essence began to tear itself from the undead's broken body and, before Anya was done, they had completely disbursed, leaving nothing but an empty husk of the no longer moving feline at her feet.

Step five: identify the flow of power and unweave it. Step five was the most complicated of all of the steps because of the variety of powers involved with the raising of the dead. In the case of the catacombs, however, Anya was highly disappointed that the woven energy involved in the risen dead was naturally occurring-- nothing brought her more joy than destroying necromancers and twisted Thaumaturgists... but she would have to make due.

Summoning the Word of Tah'aveen and using what she had learned through her Focus magics, the Priestess sent a powerful pulse of divine energy throughout the tunnels. She didn't have to hear the sound of a half dozen bodies collapsing to know that the Goddess' will had been done. Five steps complete, Anya continued through the tunnels following the sounds of the whimpering boar until she discovered Brother Lafred on the ground, prone, in a pool of his own blood.

"Sister Anya..." he moaned, blood on his snout, "help me..." he groaned, "I... I'm dying..."

The jackal shook her head, "No, Brother... you're not dying." she slowly rolled him onto his back, "You're already dead."

"No..." he groaned, wheezing as he was situated on his back, "I... I can be healed..." he attested, "fetch a healer... quickly."

Anya shook her head again, "You've been struck through the heart, Brother. The ghoul's aim was good."

"I'm not dead!" he squealed, fidgeting as Anya opened his robe. She grabbed a pawful of the boar's hair and hefted his head so he could look down at his own chest. Her other paw glowed a pale white to allow him to see the gaping hole, "Merciful Goddess..." he gurgled.

"You see?" she inquired, laying his head back down, "You're dead."

"I..." he wheezed, gasping for breath, "I don't feel dead... what... what is happening?"

Anya slowly began to disrobe, "You are changing, Brother Lafred... you've been cursed with unlife and, in a few minutes, your lower-mind will conquer your higher thoughts, and you will rise as a wight."

"A wight?" he gurgled, eyes wide, "No! I will not be of the undead! I will not!" he began struggling, but he did so weakly.

"You cannot fight it, Brother Lafred," Anya explained, rising up as her clothing cascaded to the ground at her feet. She stood with one foot on either side of the prone boar, the light from her paw illuminating her slim, seductive form, "Like many things your body does, this is beyond your control." she knelt down, her glowing paw going to his bare chest while her other one slid down beneath her to touch something else.

"I--" his eyes went wide, "Sister Anya--!"

"You see?" she asked as his flesh responded, "If you were alive there is no way you would have enough blood for a response."

"What are you--?" he gasped, and then gagged as his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Freeing you, Brother Lafred... I am setting you free."

"How could--" he choked on his own tongue, spasming as Anya began to work her magic.

"Step six..." the jackal murmured as she moved her hips against the unresponsive form of the boar, "Cleanse any remaining corruption." She drew her paws across her own bare breasts, moaning as she felt her spells begin to take hold, drawing her into a euphoria of empowerment... and other sensations.

It took Anya Fanewatcher less than two minutes to siphon out all of the energy of the fallen priest. She did not bother looking at the drawn, emaciated features of the hollowed skeleton that had once been Brother Lafred, rather, she reveled in the energy imbuing her-- the powers that would have animated the boar's body if she had let it instead amplified her own might. Redressing, the priestess went to tell the Caretaker of her victory over undeath. The hunt could not have been more timely-- she knew that she would need the added power in the days ahead.