Year 331, Twelfth Age
Leaffall, Day 23
Dear Diary,
I decided I needed to work with some friendlier ghosts while I'm polishing my skills and increasing my power, so I took Grandma Butterblossom out to dinner last night. She was my father's mother, and an accomplished wizard in her own right, and she's only been dead for three years so it was pretty easy to bring her back.
Diary, it was wonderful. I know, I know: I'm mastering the arts of death and bending the darkest forces to my will, so I'm not supposed to feel sentimental about the living, or even the recently-living. I know. But Grandma Butterblossom was always good to me, and it was really nice to see her again. She seemed really happy to see me, and she didn't object to calling me Grimbad Willowisp. She didn't even quirk her mouth when she said it, the way the kids at school do when they bother to use my name at all.
She's a ghost, so she didn't really eat; but it turns out that she could sort of sip from a bowl of soup and a cup of tea, and get the experience of the flavors. I told her about the rest of the family, and school, and my studies, and it was just so nice (there's that word again) to have someone to talk to about all this stuff. Besides you, I mean.
Plus, she had some advice for the situation with Mrs. Puffblossom, and some general advice on honing my powers. Necromancy wasn't really her thing -- she was more of a generalist -- but she was still a wizard and her ideas were really helpful.
I have to tell you, Diary, this was the best night I've had in a long time. And when we were done, we went back to the graveyard and she let me put her back down. So everything's fine, at least for the moment. At least as long as my dad never finds out.
Showing posts with label Grimbad Willowisp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Grimbad Willowisp. Show all posts
Monday, March 5, 2018
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
Dear Diary: Still Missing
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Leaffall, Day 17
Dear Diary,
I saw Mrs. Puffblossom last night. She was spying on the house again, just like usual. Except... well, Diary, the thing is... Mrs. Puffblossom has been missing since the ghost possessed her. So it's not really Mrs. Puffblossom watching the house. It's the ghost.
I'm worried, Diary. I mean, bad enough that I called up a ghost strong enough to possess zombies and other people, but... now it's watching me. It wants something, and I don't know what.
I need to get the ghost out of Mrs. Puffblossom and dismiss it properly. It's not just for my own safety... but, I mean, it's not because I much care what happens to Mrs. Puffblossom, either. She's a nasty, gossiping old biddy and it's her own fault for trying to spy on us. But... if I'm going to be a necromancer, a real necromancer, this has to be how things work: the undead do as I command. I can't call them up and then have them running loose, or thinking that they're in charge.
So I'm going to do this. I'm going to figure out a way to track down this ghost, and I'm going to send it back beyond the Veil. Either that, or I'm going to bind it to a tree.
Leaffall, Day 17
Dear Diary,
I saw Mrs. Puffblossom last night. She was spying on the house again, just like usual. Except... well, Diary, the thing is... Mrs. Puffblossom has been missing since the ghost possessed her. So it's not really Mrs. Puffblossom watching the house. It's the ghost.
I'm worried, Diary. I mean, bad enough that I called up a ghost strong enough to possess zombies and other people, but... now it's watching me. It wants something, and I don't know what.
I need to get the ghost out of Mrs. Puffblossom and dismiss it properly. It's not just for my own safety... but, I mean, it's not because I much care what happens to Mrs. Puffblossom, either. She's a nasty, gossiping old biddy and it's her own fault for trying to spy on us. But... if I'm going to be a necromancer, a real necromancer, this has to be how things work: the undead do as I command. I can't call them up and then have them running loose, or thinking that they're in charge.
So I'm going to do this. I'm going to figure out a way to track down this ghost, and I'm going to send it back beyond the Veil. Either that, or I'm going to bind it to a tree.
Monday, October 9, 2017
Dear Diary: Camping
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Leaffall, Day 9
Deary Diary,
Well, I'm back. Dad decided that the whole family needed to go camping. Didn't even give us time to pack, just threw a few things in the cart and drove us out of town. And for NO REASON. The zombies were almost done cleaning up the house by the time Mom got home, and he didn't even stay around long enough to hear about Mrs. Fluffblossom next door.
Okay, so... I tried to summon a ghost back on Friday, and she trashed the house. Stupid ghost. So I called up a few zombies to help me clean up, which would have been fine except apparently the ghost wasn't gone yet. So the ghost kind of possessed one of my zombies and took off with it. In it. Whatever. And, of course, it staggered right past Mrs. Fluffblossom, who was probably trying to get close enough to see what all the noise had been without actually looking like she was spying on us. (She totally was, though.) So Mrs. Puffblossom starts screaming, and then the ghost steps out of the zombie and into her. So now the zombie is just standing out there on the sidewalk, and Possessed Mrs. Puffblossom goes racing off into town.
...And then Mom gets home and finds zombies cleaning her house. "Her" house, like none of the rest of us live there, right? But everything's pretty well put together, so mainly Mom's just yelling at me to get the zombies out of there, and then Gladwin walks in. She just looks around, says, "Huh," and then goes to her room and closes the door. Mom finally sits down at the kitchen table, and the zombies are finishing the last bits of cleanup, and that's when Dad walks in, looks around, and says: "Everybody in the cart. We're going camping."
Which... I can't even. Two days, Diary. Two days, in the woods, with my family. My face is sunburned, the back of my neck is one giant bug bite composed of many smaller bug bites, my ankles are itchy, my feet are sore, and my best black-and-red robe is torn up and stained with dirt and grass. They didn't even let me bring Fluffy, the one person in the family who might have actually enjoyed it. It's a good thing she doesn't need to eat, 'cause they just left her in the back yard. No crystal ball to watch my shows on, no mystic tomes to read. "Family time," Dad kept saying with a kind of manic gleam in his eye. "It'll be good for us. Get in the cart." So we're out there in the forest with nothing more than the clothes on our back, a deck of cards that's missing the Queen of Flames and the Jack of Shadows, and Mom keeps trying to get us to sing.
Necromancers don't sing, Diary.
Necromancers. Do. Not. Sing.
Not even if you tell them that they don't get to have cider with the rest of the family unless they sing. Not even then.
Then dad spends the rest of the time trying to get me to go out hunting with him. "Learn how to survive in the wild, son. There are roots and berries all through these woods, and if we can catch a couple of squirrels we'll have stew!" Yeah, no. I know Dad was a big deal in the outriders in his youth, and I know he wishes I could be more like him, but I'm not. And I've got more important things on my mind. I'd honestly prefer to just sit around the campsite and watch Gladwin play unwinnable games of solitaire.
Anyway, he finally did pack everything back up and take us back home, but... well, my weekend's gone, Diary.
The only upside was that I forgot to excant the zombies, so the house was really clean when we got back.
Leaffall, Day 9
Deary Diary,
Well, I'm back. Dad decided that the whole family needed to go camping. Didn't even give us time to pack, just threw a few things in the cart and drove us out of town. And for NO REASON. The zombies were almost done cleaning up the house by the time Mom got home, and he didn't even stay around long enough to hear about Mrs. Fluffblossom next door.
Okay, so... I tried to summon a ghost back on Friday, and she trashed the house. Stupid ghost. So I called up a few zombies to help me clean up, which would have been fine except apparently the ghost wasn't gone yet. So the ghost kind of possessed one of my zombies and took off with it. In it. Whatever. And, of course, it staggered right past Mrs. Fluffblossom, who was probably trying to get close enough to see what all the noise had been without actually looking like she was spying on us. (She totally was, though.) So Mrs. Puffblossom starts screaming, and then the ghost steps out of the zombie and into her. So now the zombie is just standing out there on the sidewalk, and Possessed Mrs. Puffblossom goes racing off into town.
...And then Mom gets home and finds zombies cleaning her house. "Her" house, like none of the rest of us live there, right? But everything's pretty well put together, so mainly Mom's just yelling at me to get the zombies out of there, and then Gladwin walks in. She just looks around, says, "Huh," and then goes to her room and closes the door. Mom finally sits down at the kitchen table, and the zombies are finishing the last bits of cleanup, and that's when Dad walks in, looks around, and says: "Everybody in the cart. We're going camping."
Which... I can't even. Two days, Diary. Two days, in the woods, with my family. My face is sunburned, the back of my neck is one giant bug bite composed of many smaller bug bites, my ankles are itchy, my feet are sore, and my best black-and-red robe is torn up and stained with dirt and grass. They didn't even let me bring Fluffy, the one person in the family who might have actually enjoyed it. It's a good thing she doesn't need to eat, 'cause they just left her in the back yard. No crystal ball to watch my shows on, no mystic tomes to read. "Family time," Dad kept saying with a kind of manic gleam in his eye. "It'll be good for us. Get in the cart." So we're out there in the forest with nothing more than the clothes on our back, a deck of cards that's missing the Queen of Flames and the Jack of Shadows, and Mom keeps trying to get us to sing.
Necromancers don't sing, Diary.
Necromancers. Do. Not. Sing.
Not even if you tell them that they don't get to have cider with the rest of the family unless they sing. Not even then.
Then dad spends the rest of the time trying to get me to go out hunting with him. "Learn how to survive in the wild, son. There are roots and berries all through these woods, and if we can catch a couple of squirrels we'll have stew!" Yeah, no. I know Dad was a big deal in the outriders in his youth, and I know he wishes I could be more like him, but I'm not. And I've got more important things on my mind. I'd honestly prefer to just sit around the campsite and watch Gladwin play unwinnable games of solitaire.
Anyway, he finally did pack everything back up and take us back home, but... well, my weekend's gone, Diary.
The only upside was that I forgot to excant the zombies, so the house was really clean when we got back.
Friday, October 6, 2017
Dear Diary: Poltergeist
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Leaffall, Day 5
Dear Diary,
Well, I'm in trouble again. And this time, I have to admit that it's actually kind of my fault.
I'm still trying to figure out how to summon ghosts. Well, actually... summoning them isn't the hard part. Keeping them around is harder, and binding them to my service is much harder. So the one I summoned last night, pretty much at random? Well, she hung around. Mainly, she hung around smashing stuff.
She trashed the house. Yeah. The whole house. While I was skipping school. And I really need to get it cleaned up before my parents get home. That gives me a few hours, but... I'd better get started. I'll let you know how it turns out.
Leaffall, Day 5
Dear Diary,
Well, I'm in trouble again. And this time, I have to admit that it's actually kind of my fault.
I'm still trying to figure out how to summon ghosts. Well, actually... summoning them isn't the hard part. Keeping them around is harder, and binding them to my service is much harder. So the one I summoned last night, pretty much at random? Well, she hung around. Mainly, she hung around smashing stuff.
She trashed the house. Yeah. The whole house. While I was skipping school. And I really need to get it cleaned up before my parents get home. That gives me a few hours, but... I'd better get started. I'll let you know how it turns out.
Thursday, September 21, 2017
Dear Diary: Cutting Class
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Fading, Day 21
Dear Diary,
Mopeybeard's father brought him up to town today, so I skipped school to go hang out with them. Mopeybeard's dad didn't look too pleased about that. I think maybe he brought Mopeybeard during the week because he knew I'd be in school then. But he didn't say anything, he just glowered at me. So I hung around, and Mopeybeard made friends with Fluffy, and we actually had kind of a good time. I mean, we got to wander around the big market, and watch Mopeybeard's dad bargain with clothiers and rug-merchants and an alchemist. Apparently he sells the products of his forge up here, then buys stuff like that and takes it back down to resell in the Underhalls. I'll bet it works really well, too.
Anyway, after a while he let us wander off. Mopeybeard set up on a corner, singing and playing his lute, and actually got a bit of a crowd. (Even if they did keep saying things like, "Do you know anything more cheerful?") He sings really well, for a dwarf who's still too young to drink. And even if most of my people didn't properly appreciate him singing about how depressing it is to live in the dark all with a bunch of dwarves who spend all their time working, I really enjoyed it.
Then Mopeybeard's father came back and collected him again, so I went home. Mopeybeard would love to have me come visit, but I can't see in the dark (yet) and anyway there's no way my parents are going to approve a visit to the Underhalls. So I'm stuck here in Sunvalley, at least until I graduate. Or grow powerful enough to travel the roads of the dead. There's a thought. Anyway, it's going to be a while, however it finally works out.
When I got home, my dad gave me a long look, and then just said: "You owe Miss Gentlerain a page describing what you learned at the market today." Which tells me two things: first, that the illusion I tried to set so everyone would think I'd been at school all day didn't work. And second, that apparently the school just decided to go with it. I gotta say, that does make everybody's life easier. Which, since we're all treading ineluctably towards our inevitable deaths, seems like a pretty sensible idea.
Good night, diary. Tomorrow we'll try to summon a ghost again.
Fading, Day 21
Dear Diary,
Mopeybeard's father brought him up to town today, so I skipped school to go hang out with them. Mopeybeard's dad didn't look too pleased about that. I think maybe he brought Mopeybeard during the week because he knew I'd be in school then. But he didn't say anything, he just glowered at me. So I hung around, and Mopeybeard made friends with Fluffy, and we actually had kind of a good time. I mean, we got to wander around the big market, and watch Mopeybeard's dad bargain with clothiers and rug-merchants and an alchemist. Apparently he sells the products of his forge up here, then buys stuff like that and takes it back down to resell in the Underhalls. I'll bet it works really well, too.
Anyway, after a while he let us wander off. Mopeybeard set up on a corner, singing and playing his lute, and actually got a bit of a crowd. (Even if they did keep saying things like, "Do you know anything more cheerful?") He sings really well, for a dwarf who's still too young to drink. And even if most of my people didn't properly appreciate him singing about how depressing it is to live in the dark all with a bunch of dwarves who spend all their time working, I really enjoyed it.
Then Mopeybeard's father came back and collected him again, so I went home. Mopeybeard would love to have me come visit, but I can't see in the dark (yet) and anyway there's no way my parents are going to approve a visit to the Underhalls. So I'm stuck here in Sunvalley, at least until I graduate. Or grow powerful enough to travel the roads of the dead. There's a thought. Anyway, it's going to be a while, however it finally works out.
When I got home, my dad gave me a long look, and then just said: "You owe Miss Gentlerain a page describing what you learned at the market today." Which tells me two things: first, that the illusion I tried to set so everyone would think I'd been at school all day didn't work. And second, that apparently the school just decided to go with it. I gotta say, that does make everybody's life easier. Which, since we're all treading ineluctably towards our inevitable deaths, seems like a pretty sensible idea.
Good night, diary. Tomorrow we'll try to summon a ghost again.
Sunday, September 17, 2017
Dear Diary: Harder Than It Looks
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Fading, Day 17
Just a quick note, Diary: summoning ghosts? Waaaay harder than it looks. I mean, I managed to imbue my last zombie with a spark of actual creative intelligence; I didn't think a ghost would be much harder than that.
Turns out that ghosts are hard to conjure, and a lot harder to conjure in a way where they'll actually be able to hang around for more than a couple of moments.
Oh, well. All part of the research. I'll get it done sooner or later, hopefully before Midterms.
Fading, Day 17
Just a quick note, Diary: summoning ghosts? Waaaay harder than it looks. I mean, I managed to imbue my last zombie with a spark of actual creative intelligence; I didn't think a ghost would be much harder than that.
Turns out that ghosts are hard to conjure, and a lot harder to conjure in a way where they'll actually be able to hang around for more than a couple of moments.
Oh, well. All part of the research. I'll get it done sooner or later, hopefully before Midterms.
Thursday, September 14, 2017
Dear Diary: Pets Are Therapeutic
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Fading, Day 14
Dear diary,
So Mom thinks I ought to get a puppy, "like a normal boy". Yeah, she actually said that.
But it turned out to be a good idea.
I mean, yeah, Fluffy is another zombie and now my mom won't let her into the house. (Have I mentioned that adults make no sense? Adults make no sense.) But she's cute, she's obedient, and she's completely loyal to me. I need to get my own place so she can sleep on the bed with me at night.
Gladwin (That's my sister. Not sure if I mentioned her name before.) thinks it's weird that I'd rather have a dead dog than a live one, but once I pointed out that Fluffy doesn't pee on everything and won't dig up the yard unless I tell her to, she was a lot more reasonable about it. And my dad just shook his head and looked sad.
No, Mom's the real problem, even though this whole thing was her idea. I wish she could just be proud of me, for once.
Fading, Day 14
Dear diary,
So Mom thinks I ought to get a puppy, "like a normal boy". Yeah, she actually said that.
But it turned out to be a good idea.
I mean, yeah, Fluffy is another zombie and now my mom won't let her into the house. (Have I mentioned that adults make no sense? Adults make no sense.) But she's cute, she's obedient, and she's completely loyal to me. I need to get my own place so she can sleep on the bed with me at night.
Gladwin (That's my sister. Not sure if I mentioned her name before.) thinks it's weird that I'd rather have a dead dog than a live one, but once I pointed out that Fluffy doesn't pee on everything and won't dig up the yard unless I tell her to, she was a lot more reasonable about it. And my dad just shook his head and looked sad.
No, Mom's the real problem, even though this whole thing was her idea. I wish she could just be proud of me, for once.
Thursday, September 7, 2017
Dear Diary: Cooking Class
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Highsun, Day 28
Dear diary,
Well, that was a disaster. They didn't even let me finish the rest of my school day. In-school suspension... and then, a full suspension when
I guess I should start at the beginning, Diary. That's usually how these things are done. So...
I made myself an undead servitor to help me pass Cooking class. It was an incredible success, not that you'd know it from the way everyone reacted. I found the grave of Elvar Glorion, the greatest Halfling chef ever to live in Warmspring, and called him back. I got the full body. I mean, he was still dead, of course, but he wasn't even decayed -- just a little emaciated. And more importantly, I conjured back that critical spark of his spirit, that allowed his reanimated corpse to cook!
Nobody even seemed to notice, at first. Laurel Twinblossom asked me if I'd brought my uncle to school, but that was about it. But then, while he was cooking, Disbell Windhorn got close enough to really look at his face and started yelling about how I had a dead guy in the classroom. Okay, yeah, he wasn't wrong, but did he really need to freak out like that? And then Mrs. Dawnpetal fainted, and somebody ran off to tell the principal, and... it didn't get any better from there.
At first, Principal Brightstream was threatening me with legal action for having a corpse around food preparation. I pointed out that the corpse was properly raised and therefore completely preserved against decay -- no self-respecting necromancer is going to create zombies that actually rot -- but he just kept repeating "A corpse. Around food." Then I pointed out that the corpse was also a famous chef, but apparently that doesn't make any difference. Then I wondered out loud what it would do to the reputation of the school if people learned that we had corpses roaming the halls and preparing second breakfasts, and finally Principal Brightstream decided that maybe we'd better not mention this to anyone. Which, y'know what? Fine. Whatever.
Unfortunately, Secretary Brightbottom had already whispered my dad. So halfway through my day of in-school suspension, he shows up demanding to know what's going on and what I've done this time. And since I refuse to return Chef Glorion to the earth, the principal decides that maybe I need more time with my dad, and changes my in-school suspension to three days of regular suspension! Which makes no sense. I mean, if I'd released him there they'd just have had to clean up a corpse in the detention hall, plus I'd still be failing Cooking class. Adults make no sense, diary. I'm just going to go back and underline that.
ADULTS MAKE NO SENSE.
It's fine. I'm fine. I'll just have to try something else. Not with Chef Glorion; he's done his best for me.
No, next time I'm just going to get a ghost instead.
Highsun, Day 28
Dear diary,
Well, that was a disaster. They didn't even let me finish the rest of my school day. In-school suspension... and then, a full suspension when
I guess I should start at the beginning, Diary. That's usually how these things are done. So...
I made myself an undead servitor to help me pass Cooking class. It was an incredible success, not that you'd know it from the way everyone reacted. I found the grave of Elvar Glorion, the greatest Halfling chef ever to live in Warmspring, and called him back. I got the full body. I mean, he was still dead, of course, but he wasn't even decayed -- just a little emaciated. And more importantly, I conjured back that critical spark of his spirit, that allowed his reanimated corpse to cook!
Nobody even seemed to notice, at first. Laurel Twinblossom asked me if I'd brought my uncle to school, but that was about it. But then, while he was cooking, Disbell Windhorn got close enough to really look at his face and started yelling about how I had a dead guy in the classroom. Okay, yeah, he wasn't wrong, but did he really need to freak out like that? And then Mrs. Dawnpetal fainted, and somebody ran off to tell the principal, and... it didn't get any better from there.
At first, Principal Brightstream was threatening me with legal action for having a corpse around food preparation. I pointed out that the corpse was properly raised and therefore completely preserved against decay -- no self-respecting necromancer is going to create zombies that actually rot -- but he just kept repeating "A corpse. Around food." Then I pointed out that the corpse was also a famous chef, but apparently that doesn't make any difference. Then I wondered out loud what it would do to the reputation of the school if people learned that we had corpses roaming the halls and preparing second breakfasts, and finally Principal Brightstream decided that maybe we'd better not mention this to anyone. Which, y'know what? Fine. Whatever.
Unfortunately, Secretary Brightbottom had already whispered my dad. So halfway through my day of in-school suspension, he shows up demanding to know what's going on and what I've done this time. And since I refuse to return Chef Glorion to the earth, the principal decides that maybe I need more time with my dad, and changes my in-school suspension to three days of regular suspension! Which makes no sense. I mean, if I'd released him there they'd just have had to clean up a corpse in the detention hall, plus I'd still be failing Cooking class. Adults make no sense, diary. I'm just going to go back and underline that.
ADULTS MAKE NO SENSE.
It's fine. I'm fine. I'll just have to try something else. Not with Chef Glorion; he's done his best for me.
No, next time I'm just going to get a ghost instead.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Dear Diary: School Is No Place For A Necromancer
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Highsun, Day 21
Dear diary,
My father's mad at me again. It's school, of course. My report scroll came home.
Okay, so I'm behind in Advanced Treasure Counting and I'm failing Cooking. Oh, and Coach is threatening to hold me back if I don't at least start hitting the targets when we practice throwing. I mean, yeah. I guess I can see why he'd be mad. But it's not like asked to go to school.
"You're the smartest kid in your class! You could do this easily if you'd just apply yourself!" Well, yeah, but that's sort of my point. Cooking and Treasure Counting? My intellect and my time could be spent on far more important things. There are ancient books out there, just full of forbidden knowledge and waiting for me unlock their secrets. Instead, I'm staring at a pan full of scrambled eggs and wondering if I could reanimate them into some sort of oregano-flavored undead slime-monster.
But when I try to explain about how nothing we're learning in school is truly important, Dad just gets this look on his face like... like he really wants to start screaming at me but doesn't think it'll do any good. He won't listen.
I give up.
I guess I could start hitting things for Coach. I mean, I hate him. All he does is shout a lot and lecture us on how important sports are and how they Prepare You For Life. (Can you imagine, diary? I'm trying to explore the fathomless secrets of Death itself, he thinks sports will prepare me for life?) But I could do it. And the treasure stuff is pretty easy, when I pay attention. Some of the stuff with the interest and the economics is even kind of interesting.
But there's no way I'm ever going to be a decent cook. Maybe I could create some kind of undead servitor to do my cooking projects for me? There's an idea.
Later, dear diary. I have to go do research.
Highsun, Day 21
Dear diary,
My father's mad at me again. It's school, of course. My report scroll came home.
Okay, so I'm behind in Advanced Treasure Counting and I'm failing Cooking. Oh, and Coach is threatening to hold me back if I don't at least start hitting the targets when we practice throwing. I mean, yeah. I guess I can see why he'd be mad. But it's not like asked to go to school.
"You're the smartest kid in your class! You could do this easily if you'd just apply yourself!" Well, yeah, but that's sort of my point. Cooking and Treasure Counting? My intellect and my time could be spent on far more important things. There are ancient books out there, just full of forbidden knowledge and waiting for me unlock their secrets. Instead, I'm staring at a pan full of scrambled eggs and wondering if I could reanimate them into some sort of oregano-flavored undead slime-monster.
But when I try to explain about how nothing we're learning in school is truly important, Dad just gets this look on his face like... like he really wants to start screaming at me but doesn't think it'll do any good. He won't listen.
I give up.
I guess I could start hitting things for Coach. I mean, I hate him. All he does is shout a lot and lecture us on how important sports are and how they Prepare You For Life. (Can you imagine, diary? I'm trying to explore the fathomless secrets of Death itself, he thinks sports will prepare me for life?) But I could do it. And the treasure stuff is pretty easy, when I pay attention. Some of the stuff with the interest and the economics is even kind of interesting.
But there's no way I'm ever going to be a decent cook. Maybe I could create some kind of undead servitor to do my cooking projects for me? There's an idea.
Later, dear diary. I have to go do research.
Thursday, August 24, 2017
The Ballad of Grimbad Willowisp, Halfling Necromancer
Year 331, Twelfth Age
Highsun, Day 14
Dear diary,
It's been three months since I took the name Grimbad Willowisp and swore myself to the study of darkness and death, and my parents are still in denial about it. My mother keeps telling the neighbors that I'm studying to be a wizard, which I guess is sort of true. But she can't even bring herself to say the word "necromancer", even though I've done everything I can to make it obvious: black robes with red trim, black eyeliner, grim expressions... Seriously, she can't think she's fooling anybody, can she?
And my father's even worse. He's started making a point of calling me by my full birth-name, Grinbroad Willowsend. I tried telling him that my name is Grimbad Willowisp now, but he just shook his head and said, "No it isn't." Can you believe it, diary? Neither could I. I became Grimbad Willowisp when I became a necromancer, but just try telling my dad that.
My sister is just as bad, but at least she keeps the other kids off me. After Merrybloom Rosewine made fun of my clothing and then mysteriously lost her homework on the way to school for three days straight, everybody leaves me alone. That's fine with me. And it's not like I don't have friends. I mean, yeah, Mopeybeard is a dwarf, but he's really good with his lute and his songs about how his father doesn't understand him and he just doesn't fit in in the Deep Halls make me feel like maybe I'm not the only one, you know?
They just don't get it. We spend our lives speeding towards death. How can you ignore that? How can you not want to know everything there is to know about it? But they don't. They're too busy worrying about what's for lunch. They'll never understand me.
It's just you and me, diary. And Mopeybeard, when his father brings him up to town.
Yeah.
Highsun, Day 14
Dear diary,
It's been three months since I took the name Grimbad Willowisp and swore myself to the study of darkness and death, and my parents are still in denial about it. My mother keeps telling the neighbors that I'm studying to be a wizard, which I guess is sort of true. But she can't even bring herself to say the word "necromancer", even though I've done everything I can to make it obvious: black robes with red trim, black eyeliner, grim expressions... Seriously, she can't think she's fooling anybody, can she?
And my father's even worse. He's started making a point of calling me by my full birth-name, Grinbroad Willowsend. I tried telling him that my name is Grimbad Willowisp now, but he just shook his head and said, "No it isn't." Can you believe it, diary? Neither could I. I became Grimbad Willowisp when I became a necromancer, but just try telling my dad that.
My sister is just as bad, but at least she keeps the other kids off me. After Merrybloom Rosewine made fun of my clothing and then mysteriously lost her homework on the way to school for three days straight, everybody leaves me alone. That's fine with me. And it's not like I don't have friends. I mean, yeah, Mopeybeard is a dwarf, but he's really good with his lute and his songs about how his father doesn't understand him and he just doesn't fit in in the Deep Halls make me feel like maybe I'm not the only one, you know?
They just don't get it. We spend our lives speeding towards death. How can you ignore that? How can you not want to know everything there is to know about it? But they don't. They're too busy worrying about what's for lunch. They'll never understand me.
It's just you and me, diary. And Mopeybeard, when his father brings him up to town.
Yeah.
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