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The Human From a Dungeon 95
🕑 Added 2025-03-17 12:31:59 +0000 UTCChapter 95
Volus
Adventurer Level: N/A
Elf – Kirkenan
"Larie?" Nick asked, dumbfounded.
The human's familiarity with the creature helped my heart settle a little, but not by much. Nir and Irl were also taken aback, but they didn't seem to recognize the abomination. I knew what stood before us, though, the epitome of misguided mortal ambition and a testament to the depravity that lurks within us all.
My master had allowed me the use of his library whenever I finished my daily duties earlier than expected. Of the vast number of books contained within, only one tome dared to depict the terrible nature of a lich. Even that tome only spoke in allegory and metaphor so as to protect its reader from the true horrors involved.
"Surprised to see me?" Lord VysImiro chuckled. "Yulk recommended me to High Chief Ulurmak."
"Well, that doesn't surprise me," Nick sighed. "You agreed, though?"
"Of course. I possess a great deal of knowledge and experience that would benefit a great many," the lich nodded somberly. "High Chief Ulurmak sent a very respectful delegation who made certain to point this out to me. They effectively guilted me into it."
A mortal that wishes to become a lich must subject several victims to extensive tortures and extract specific humors from what little blood remains. The process of this extraction is always fatal, releasing each of the poor victims from their mangled mortal shell. The lich then uses these humors to craft a potion that allows them to escape the notice of the Higher Ones while they take the next step toward their own damnation.
The tome that I read did not specify the number of victims required, but it implied that it was over one hundred. It also implied that the next step in the process requires twice that number of victims, all of whom had to be children or infants. Anything capable of such terrible acts would be crushed under the weight of their guilt, were they able to feel even a smidge of empathy. So how can this thing be guilted into something? Could this creature be something other than a lich?
"What about the kobolds?" Nick asked.
"They've achieved a semblance of self-sufficiency. Simeeth, the kobold you're familiar with, has a rather surprising knack for leadership. With some clear and concise instructions, they should be able to thrive without me for quite some time," the lich explained, then laughed. "I can only hope that my instructions were clear and concise enough. Now, please take your seats."
Nick nodded and unceremoniously plopped himself into one of the chairs. The orcs and I shared a glance and reluctantly followed suit. Our teacher was likely an abomination, but there was little I could do about it. Attacking it would spell my doom, regardless of whether or not I was successful in destroying it, which was quite unlikely. Plus, what if it wasn't actually a lich?
"Thank you for your prompt attendance," it said with a nod. "My name is Larie VysImiro, Lord of the Fallen and King of the Kobolds."
With the pronouncement of his title, several facts came together within my mind. VysImiro, as in HOUSE VysImiro, the noble house founded by the great magus Imlor VysImiro the Grand. The most famous gnome to ever live! Larie VysImiro, his son, was one of the greatest healers to ever grace the mortal realm!
But... It can't be the same Larie VysImiro. A lich can live in perpetuity, but how could someone with such legendary kindness and compassion become such a monstrosity? And how could it dare to show its face here in such a state? Is it counting upon our own kindness and ignorance to avoid punishment for its misdeeds? Or was the great Larie VysImiro cursed somehow, and simply resembles a lich?
"I'm afraid that due to the customs of the Unified Chiefdoms, you must refer to me as Lord VysImiro," it explained. "Of course, I won't do anything if you call me something else, but..."
The lich trailed off and looked pointedly at the muscular elf sitting behind us. She smiled at our glances with a hint of maliciousness. I noticed the emblem of the Pumos Trade Union pinned to her shirt. A trade union enforcer?
Despite her chosen trade, I felt a sort of kinship with her. Like me, she was an elf surrounded by orcs and worked in a male-dominated field. I wondered if she had felt as much pressure from them during her career as I had in my own. Probably, but whilst I must utilize passive aggression and my wits, she probably just punches anyone that gets too mouthy. Must be cathartic.
"In this class I will be teaching you everything that I know about the art of healing," Lord VysImiro explained. "However, before we begin our lesson I feel that my current state of being needs to be addressed. I am a lich."
My heart pounded at the confirmation. An obscenity stood before us, intending to teach us the sacrosanct art of healing? What in the hells was happening here? Has the High Chief lost his mind? The color drained from Nir's face, but Irl cautiously raised his hand.
"Yes?" Lord VysImiro asked.
"W-well, Lord, uh..." Irl stammered. "What's a lich?"
"I appreciate the question. It takes courage to reveal one's ignorance and attempt to correct it," it paused for a moment, as if to gather its words. "A lich is the atrocious result of an utterly disgraceful attempt to violate the natural order of life and achieve immortality."
He practically spat the words, and the venom in his tone shocked me. Where was this anger coming from? Is he ashamed of what he has done? Nir and I shared a quick expression of confusion with each other, but Nick noticed.
"Lord VysImiro didn't choose to become a lich," Nick explained. "It was forced upon him by-."
"Nick, though speaking out of turn, is correct," our teacher interrupted. "The story of how I was turned into what I am is a matter for another time, though. We have precious little time together, and plenty to lear-"
I raised my hand, cutting him off. His attention turned to me, and I stared into the void that his eyes should rest in.
"Yes?" he asked.
"I'm sorry Lord VysImiro, but I have to know," I said, gathering my courage. "You seem to acknowledge that your existence is an affront to all that is good and right, but... Well, why haven't you..."
I trailed off, too afraid to finish the question. Silence filled the classroom as my classmates stared at me in shock. The only one who had seemed to expect the question was the lich.
"Tried to end my existence?" Lord VysImiro finished my question, then sighed. "I hardly see how that's any of your business, but if you must know, I have. Unfortunately, a lich cannot kill itself. I can do nothing that may harm my phylacteries, not even reveal their locations, and damaging my own physical form will only result in my own revival."
"But-"
"That's quite enough," the elf behind me angrily interrupted. "Lord VysImiro, please start your lesson."
The lich stared at me for a moment, its skull utterly devoid of expression, then played with some papers at its desk. It then stood and began to lecture us on the art of healing. I received some rather unkind glances from my classmates that caused me to blush, but before long they were enraptured by the lesson.
I tried to pay attention as Lord VysImiro explained the basic concepts of healing spells, but my thoughts were racing. How could one be forced into lichdom? Even so, why would the High Chief choose them to teach something so sacrosanct? Finally, why am I the only one who seems to be upset by this development?
Perhaps I had taken after my master too much. For almost a decade now, I'd served as the butler of Lord Alvintis Maxim, Patriarch of the Maxim clan. I'd often been told that his views on right and wrong were much too black and white, but they had always made sense to me.
His views on morality were the entire reason I was able to attend this school in the first place. Ever since I revealed my desire to learn magic to him as a young girl, he'd been lamenting how unfair it is to keep me as his butler. He had even queried several mages over the years, hoping to find me a sufficient tutor. They were all either too busy or too greedy, though. When High Chief Ulurmak had requested that Lord Maxim invest in this school, my master agreed on the condition that I be accepted.
It was a very kind gesture, one which I am utterly unworthy of, but it came with a catch. The Maxim Clan is no longer in a position in which to be charitable. Once I achieve competency in magic, I'll return to my master and act as his head of security and advisor of the arcane until my retirement. It's an arrangement that I'm more than happy with, of course, but Lord Maxim still lamented its necessity.
The previous head of security had fled her post to elope with Lord Maxim's youngest daughter. A lesser mer would have had bounty hunters on her tail for her audacity, but he simply wished the young couple well and chose me to fill the position. Things had lined up almost perfectly, in fact.
I wondered what my master would do in my position, and decided to write him and ask. He will be able to judge the situation better than I ever could. If I'm right to feel this way, he'll explain what I should do about it. If I'm in the wrong, he'll explain why in such a way that will alleviate my ill-feelings. Satisfied with my decision, I turned my attention back to the lich and noticed that he was staring at me.
"Young elf, I realize that you must have a lot on your mind, but it will be difficult to catch up if you lose focus," Lord VysImiro said.
"Y-Young?" I stuttered, dumbfounded.
The lich tilted its head at me, seemingly confused, then seemed to have a revelation.
"Ah, my apologies. You must be older than I take you for and unused to being called young," he chuckled. "In my defense, though, you are much, much younger than I am."
"How old are you?" Irl asked.
"Come now, that's hardly relevant to the lesson at hand."
"Oh, yeah. Sorry, milord, I was just curious."
"Understandable. Truth be told, I am unsure. I have spent quite a long time underground, you see. In dungeons it is difficult to keep track of whether it is day or night, so I quickly lost track of such things. The calendar has changed, as well, so I would have to find a historian to help me figure it out. Frankly, it isn't worth the effort. Suffice it to say that I'm more than a lifetime older than all of you put together."
"So you'd be bones anyway?"
Everyone in the class gave Irl an exasperated expression.
"Oh, uh... Sorry, milord," Irl said, rubbing his neck.
Lord VysImiro gave Irl a pointed look, then continued his lesson. He explained that the efficacy of healing depends greatly upon the caster's knowledge of anatomy and physiology. Then, for Irl's benefit, he explained what anatomy and physiology meant.
"Like other forms of magic, if one knows exactly what the spell should be doing, the spell will do it better," he said. "By better, I mean both faster and more thoroughly. Let's have an example. Who can tell me what a liver does?"
I reluctantly raised my hand.
"Yes?"
"The liver balances one's humors, does it not?" I asked.
"That is correct," the lich nodded happily as Nick raised his hand. "Oh, we have another answer! Go ahead, Nick."
"Balancing the humors is a fair summary, but I have learned several of its specific functions, if you're interested," Nick said, a little shyness seeping into his voice.
"Of course, go ahead."
Nick then explained that one's liver processes all of the blood that leaves one's digestive system. It does several things during its processing, such as regulate amino acids, convert sugar into a form that's easier to store, removing bacteria from the blood, converting ammonia to urea, as well as produce proteins, cholesterol, and bile. Lord VysImiro, Nir, and I were absolutely enraptured by his explanations. Irl was, predictably, confused.
Lord VysImiro asked Nick to explain what each of these byproducts were, and the human did his best to do so. He noted that the class in which he learned this information was considered rudimentary by his society's standards, but I had already retrieved my journal and began taking meticulous notes. It occurred to me that one likely had to perform some rather ethically questionable research to learn information like this, but I decided to let it be. It was possible that my reaction toward Lord VysImiro had already made a fool of me, and it's best to only do that once a day if one can help it.
"Very good, Nick," Lord VysImiro nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you for your insight. Now for the example question. If your patient was stabbed in the liver, who's healing would be the most effective? The human's or the elf's?"
Irl raised his hand before everyone else, and the lich gestured to him.
"Well, Volus had a good answer but I think Nick's beat hers," he said. "Plus, he's already a pretty powerful mage. His healing's probably top-notch."
"Good," Lord VysImiro's skull seemed to smile. "You're correct in both regards, actually. Having an intricate knowledge regarding the functions of the body will save you from having to cast your healing spells multiple times, but if you have a large reserve of magic you'll be able to counteract your ignorance. Having both will allow you to heal more people and cast more intricate healing spells."
Nick raised his hand.
"Yes, Nick?"
"Do you know anything about being able to continuously cast Minor Heal, Lar- Lord VysImiro?"
"Continuously cast? As opposed to casting multiple times in quick succession?"
"Yes."
"I've never heard of such a thing," the lich tilted its skull. "Care to elaborate?"
"I- uh... I don't think I can," Nick said, rubbing his neck. "Not without Yu- Mister Alta."
Lord VysImiro opened his jaw to reply, but the bell rang before he could say anything.
"Ah, well, perhaps we should have an after-school meeting, then," he laughed. "Can I have a volunteer retrieve Mister Alta, please?"
I quickly raised my hand, hoping to be able to attend this meeting. Nick seemed to have quite a lot of knowledge, and I couldn't help but want every last bit of it.
"Thank you for volunteering," Lord VysImiro nodded at me. "As for the rest of you, I will see you tomorrow. You're dismissed."
Ignoring the curious looks from Irl and Nir, I gathered my things and rushed to Mister Alta's classroom. I found him at his desk, writing something on a long scroll of paper.
"Oh, yes?" he asked. "How can I help you?"
"Hello, Mister Alta, apologies for the interruption. Lord VysImiro and Nick are having a meeting that requires your attendance, sir," I explained. "It's about healing magic."
"I see... Okay, lead the way."
Mister Alta stood from his desk and followed me out of the classroom. His gait was slower than mine, and I recognized the signs of a serious spinal injury. My younger brother had suffered such a fate, though his injury didn't heal quite as well as Mister Alta's had.
I tempered my curiosity, though. Such an injury is oftentimes a sore subject, and harming my relationship with a teacher over something I didn't need to know was a decidedly bad idea. I kept my mouth shut until we reached Lord VysImiro's classroom. As we entered, I noticed that the bodyguard had also left.
"Lord VysImiro," Mister Alta said with a small bow. "How can I help you?"
"Well, Nick brought up a rather interesting topic of conversation and insisted that you be present before it is discussed any further," the lich replied. "I hope you don't mind."
"Perish the thought. What, may I ask, is this regarding?"
"The continuous casting of healing spells."
"I suspected as much," Mister Alta chuckled. "We had decided to keep it a secret while some researchers looked further into the matter, but they're well on their way by now. Whilst it likely wouldn't be wise to declare that Nick is the one that made the discovery, there's no longer any need to keep it fully under wraps."
I carefully pulled out my journal to take notes, doing my best not to disturb the meeting. Mister Alta noticed and chuckled, but Lord VysImiro and Nick were focused on the topic at hand. Nick explained how he learned Minor Heal while trying to save a comrade during a bandit attack. However, he had held the spell instead of casting it multiple times and had used all of his magic reserve, passing out as a result.
"I have never heard of such an occurrence," Lord VysImiro said. "Neither a case of someone stumbling into healing magic, nor someone extending their cast of said magic. Were you able to save your friend?"
The concern in the question caught me off-guard. A being as old as Lord VysImiro worrying about someone he didn't know in the face of knowledge that he had yet to obtain about a subject that was undeniably his passion? It would seem that the legends regarding his demeanor were true. I made a mental note to include this in my correspondence with my master.
"He made it," Nick said. "It was pretty close, though."
"Abdominal wounds can be rather serious, I'm glad your friend survived," Lord VysImiro nodded.
The discussion returned to the subject at hand. Lord VysImiro admitted that he was intrigued, and decided that at least part of the class should be spent exploring the possibilities of continuous casting. Mister Alta made a joke about how nonchalant he was being, but Lord VysImiro countered by pointing out that he already knew several spells that had apparently been lost to time.
"To me, this happens to be yet another task on a quite long list," the lich chuckled. "I'll ponder on how we shall approach this while you take your rest."
With that, the meeting ended and we went our separate ways. I rushed across the street to the inn, barely remembering to have dinner. After scarfing my food, I rushed to my room and wrote a letter to my master, hoping for guidance.
Is someone that has been forced into being an abomination free of the stain regarding their creation? Should I just ignore the fact that Lord VysImiro is a lich? If not, what can I do about it?
Lord Maxim will know.
Comments
Ben Bass
TYFTC! I love the perspective from Volous, they already feel like a fully fleshed out character, and are already feeling conflicted about Larie with just the little information they have. I think Lord Maxim saw an opportunity to benefit from the deal, having a student in at the ground floor and also being a benefactor could definitely help out his businesses in the long run.
Aerowarrier
I wanna see how Olmira and Larie interact with each other. I feel like she’ll understand him better than most
Michael Halpern
possibly, or desperate.
David Ellis
Lord Maxim is a swindler
Michael Halpern
Even the fae whom normally despise undead seem to recognize Larie as something they can tolerate,
