Post:Society - 2/15/2009 - 4:20:18
|Society · on 2/15/2009 4:20:18 AM||218|
| Necromancers are saddled between two conflicting needs. On one hand, the era of the necromantic cults is coming to a bloody end. The mere suggestion of a cabal of necromancers brings with it the torch and the blood-soaked sword of Rutilor. Necromancers practice the art of deception, stealth, and wilderness survival above all others out of pragmatic need.
Yet necromancy is not quiet. Undead minions are anything but subtle, and necromantic spells are usually blatant for what they are. The dangerous and corruptive powers Necromancers wield are capable of infecting him body, mind, and soul if he is not careful...and in turn, can provide clear signs for Empaths, Moon Mages, and Clerics. A practicing Necromancer has only a fragile hope of hiding what he is.
Most students of necromancy (and all the smart ones) come to realize the trap they're in, and some of them lament the unfairness of their position. After all, what is the point of sacrificing your purity and social standing for power you can't actually use? To a point, they're absolutely correct: it is unfair. When the Necromancers arrayed themselves against social expectations and even their own gods, nobody promised them they'd get to win.
Still, the Great Work manages to continue in spite of it all and the Bone Elves aren't going anywhere. There are three common positions which Necromancers choose from when they confront the trap.
The most iconic is the path of the outcast. These Necromancers abandon society altogether, living in the deepest woods and most forgotten corners of the world. They revel in the power they have claimed and have, in their isolation, no reason to pretend they're anything but what they are.
This is the "default" option for most Necromancers, though it is not effortless. The outcast status these lonely woodsmen take on is not the warm, fuzzy kind that includes ample time for tea. What would you do if your bank accounts were seized, if shop keepers would rather have you burnt than sell you their wares, and Empaths recoiled at the touch of your flesh? Some Necromancers are forced to find out.
The second option is less common, but more widely feared. With enough self-control and prudence, Necromancers can integrate into society. Lacking the cunning stealth and silent powers of their criminal counterparts, these Necromancers instead rely on simple discretion. No Necromancer is forced to summon an undead minion where people can see it, or conjure magic that pollutes his soul -- that is simply the easy and lazy way out.
This path is most iconic of the Redeemed and their rejection of necromancy, though more than a few Philosophers wind up making a niche in the busy streets. These Philosophers tend to regard their situation as one of enforced ideological purity -- trading even the smallest display of necromantic power for pure study of thanatology as its own end.
The final path is the broken one, where Necromancers who cannot bear to sacrifice either power or society find themselves losing both. Some Necromancers desperately need the affection of others, yet are too clumsy to hide their discipline properly. Others wrap themselves in the mien of monsters and sociopaths, yet their insistence on ostentatious displays of evil betrays their juvenile needs. Finally, the most terrifying Necromancers are the monsters that others claim to be. They sweep across the country side bereft of their senses, feeling only the need to win blood for Maelshyve, their own delusion of divinity, or some other, nameless horror.
There's no doubt about what sort of Necromancer walks down this road, though they rarely do it with much company. The Perverse have no love nor common identity with each other, and certainly have no reason to do anything but sit back and watch when the competition exposes itself.
|This message was originally posted in The Necromancers (26) \ Necromancer Ideologies (9), by DR-ARMIFER on the play.net forums.|