M.J. Markgraf
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Norman the Necromancer Chapter 165
🕑 Added 2023-12-01 13:00:09 +0000 UTC“I’m telling you, you’re wrong!” One of the scientists from the Gorfan principality yelled.
Norman sighed. The man wasn’t yelling at him, he was yelling at one of the chicken-like Fariken. That didn’t make the outburst any less annoying though. There had been almost immediate friction between the Fariken and Gorfan states. It seemed like chickens and lizards didn’t much get along, even across dimensions. Honestly, he wasn’t sure who he was rooting for in this argument. They were both insufferable people.
The Fariken scientist clucked at the insult and shouted right back. “You just believe it is wrong because your tiny lizard brain can’t comprehend what I am attempting to explain!”
The Gorfan man hissed, his tongue flickering out like a snake before he jumped on the other scientist. The two went down in a tangle of limbs, flying feathers, and ripped clothing.
Norman just rubbed his face and shook his head as two Marines rushed into the room and physically separated the two, dragging them away.
This joint research experiment had only been going on for four hours and already he had seen similar events play out three times between the two species. He was pretty sure they would separate them at some point but that hadn’t happened yet.
He decided he had enough and walked out of the theory room to look for somewhere else his skills would be of use. Honestly, he hadn’t enjoyed the theory crafting as much as he thought he would. Sure he enjoyed coming up with new spells, but his approach to spells was more practical than whatever nonsense the people in that room were talking about. A shield to cover the planet! How the hell was that supposed to work? Assuming these new landmasses even fall from the sky. Which he wasn’t sure was even the case. How would you deal with the debris after it impacts the shield? Could a shield even be strong enough to resist multiple impacts of mountain-sized clumps of rock and dirt?
And those were just the initial questions that had been raised from one theory. It was ridiculous.
Norman passed by the room where Kalia had decided to spend her time. Curious he stuck his head in and saw his wife had practically taken over the discussion as she was rapidly drawing diagrams on the large board to one side. Varten and Saliu were up there as well, lending their knowledge as the other enchanters, or artificers – as the college labeled them – were jotting down notes and asking questions. They were the doers, the magical engineers. He wished he understood enough of what they were doing so he could join them. But his skills lay elsewhere and he couldn’t sit around and be a cheerleader for his wife.
He waved at her, getting a smile in reply before he ducked back out and went to another room. Each room now had guards thanks to the tensions. They mostly ignored him as they kept their gazes straight. Their job wasn’t to prevent entry, only to break up any fights before they got out of hand. Not that these normal Marines would be able to do much if magic started flying around. Their presence did deter people from getting too rowdy though. Nobody wanted the multitudes of guards standing outside the building to come in.
The next room Norman passed made him grunt quietly in displeasure. It held Mylara, the Gorfan head scientist, Oomaku, the ooraki sovereign but most of all, there was Donovan and Vincent.
Before he could duck back out, Donovan spotted him and gave an oily smile. “Lord Norman, why don’t you join our discussion? We were just going over the practical theory on arrays. And I know that you are at least somewhat knowledgeable about them.”
Was the man trying to insult him? Or was this an attempt to get him to defend himself thus giving up valuable knowledge? Knowing Donovan, probably a bit of both. He glanced back down the hallway but there were no other rooms or areas of study that caught his attention.
Sighing internally, he stepped inside the room. Norman had always been aware that he might be forced to give up some of his knowledge when he agreed to this project. Hell, everyone present would have to give up something if they wanted to pull off the impossible.
“I know a bit,” He responded casually. “Seeing as you barely have the basics down, perhaps you do need my assistance.”
He saw Donovan’s smirk waver slightly and he knew his comment hit home.
Mylara spoke up, cutting through the tension. “We are attempting to come up with a solution to power an array that would cover the world.”
Norman frowned at that. Had that stupid shield theory gained traction? “That isn’t possible.”
“I told you that already,” Vincent responded snidely. “Why do we even need him?”
Norman just rolled his eyes. “Why are you worried about powering an array that large anyway? You would have to create one that covered the planet first. And I doubt a shield is going to work.”
“We aren’t talking about a shield, but any array we make will need to span the planet to ensure a global effect. We can’t simply leave an area exposed and hope the next collapse doesn’t just plant itself all in one area. That would be just as devastating if not more so. And we might have a way to stretch an array.” Ookamu responded.
Norman turned toward the woman with a confused look.
“The ooraki use a series of small arrays that combine to form a much larger one. It’s how we protect our major cities.”
Norman had thought of this idea in the past, but it was horribly inefficient, even worse than his city-sized array back in Ashvale. “Wouldn’t that take three times the mana to power?”
The Sovereign looked surprised that Norman knew this. “Close enough.”
It was actually a factor of Pi more mana to power an array like this but Norman didn’t think pointing out the specifics of his knowledge helped here.
“So why not just create a normal array?”
“Time and effort,” she smiled. “It would take one hundred times the effort to create a standard array of the same size.”
“So you want to create a series of small arrays instead of one giant one?” It made sense. Creating a world-spanning array would be both impossible and impractical. “But you don’t know how to power it?”
“Precisely,” Mylara responded.
Norman managed to prevent himself from scratching his face in thought. He could probably power an array of this magnitude using souls but that was not something he was willing to share. Not with these people. Not ever. But he had other alternatives.
“Why not just use a siphon?”
Vincent snorted in derision. “You think we didn’t already consider that. It would take a siphon a hundred years to gather the mana required. Maybe you should go back to your small little city while the rest of us figure out a solution. It seems that’s all you’re good at.”
Norman turned toward the man and simply stared at him. The silence in the room grew oppressive until Donovan’s son looked away. He smiled at the win and gestured toward the board. “May I?”
Oomaku waved him forward while Donovan glared daggers at him. Mylara simply watched in silence.
The whiteboard had a few scribbled notes on it but nothing of note. Norman erased it and drew a single circle in the center. “An array.”
“Obviously,” Vincent huffed. This time his father’s stern glare shut him up.
Ignoring Vincent’s childish outburst, Norman drew four smaller circles touching the main circle. Then off of those four circles, he drew three more. He continued this until the circles were only represented by single dots. Then he set the marker down.
Mylara stood up and examined the design. “A fractal?”
He wasn’t surprised she was the first to see it since biology had fractals everywhere.
“Yes. Each array connected to the main array only acts as a siphon. All that mana is then fed to the main array.” The fractal Norman drew was rather basic, and he knew there were other types like spiral fractals. But he thought this design would be the simplest to implement.
Oomaki and Donovan studied the design as well.
“It could work,” Oomaki said in thought.
“Assuming this works, it will still take years to gather the needed mana.” Norman hated to admit it, but Donovan was right. Even with an optimized layout, the spell would take years to charge. Assuming they even came up with a spell that could be implemented to save them. Everything so far was just theory.
“It’s better than a hundred years,” Norman responded.
“I don’t know why we are even entertaining this nonsense. Just power it with blood and be done with it.”
This time everyone turned to stare at Vincent.
“And who’s blood would you use, boy?” Oomaki asked.
“The jorik have the most magical blood, just use theirs.”
Norman wanted to laugh at that but a chilling voice from the doorway cut off his response. It belonged to Custodian Marlinik.
“Just try and take my blood.”
The hairs on Norman’s arms stood on end and he could feel the buildup of magical power from the Custodian. Before it could devolve into actual violence, Donovan spoke up.
“My son was just postulating. You will have to forgive him.”
“Tell him to postulate about something else. If I hear anyone else bring up using my people’s blood to power this ritual, I will assume it came from him. And I will need to educate your boy on proper manners.”
Donovan gave a tight smile and nodded. “I assure you that will not happen.”
The two continued to stare at each other for a moment longer before the feeling of magic vanished.
Norman couldn’t help but chuckle, earning a glare from father and son.
Marlinik cleared his throat. “Lord Norman, I came to speak with you if you have a moment.”
He nodded once before walking past the fuming pair of men to join Marlinik in the hallway.
The pair exited the building, walking a distance along the manicured paths before the man finally spoke. “How is my great-granddaughter?”
He was surprised by the question. “Good… You know you are welcome to come see her any time you wish.”
“If I could, I would. But the burdens of my position prevent me from leaving whenever I wish. Besides, jorik my age should have no attachments outside of the enclave. My continued absence would also make my people suspicious and even if it didn’t I suspect my offspring would realize something was off.”
“Ah,” Norman replied. “You don’t wish to tip off her mother.”
“Precisely. I’m glad you understand.”
“Actually, I don’t. Not really.”
The man gave a tight smile. “How much do you know of jorik society? Of our society?”
Norman had to think about that. It was probably more than most outsiders, but probably not much in the grand scheme of things. He told the Custodian as much.
“Parental wishes are always highly regarded in jorik society. Even more so in our enclave. We also hold great esteem for our elders. Unfortunately, some families take that esteem too far and use it to control their offspring.”
“And your granddaughter is one of those people?” Norman guessed.
The man sighed. “She wasn’t always like that. Or at least not quite so bad. But it seems like Nolia’s loss was a tipping point for her. Now she controls every aspect of her family's lives.”
“…Can’t you just tell her to stop?” He really didn’t want to get involved in jorik matters, especially familial ones, but he had to ask.
“I’m afraid not. While she would respect my opinion, she would not need to follow it as I am not her direct father. I could go to him with my concerns, but it would be ultimately up to him to decide on confronting her. And this would only alienate me further from that side of the family.”
Norman was surprised the man was being so candid with him.
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“So you will have an understanding of why I am going about things in such a roundabout manner. I know Nolia trusts you. I can sense the chu’kana she and Saliu have gifted you. As well as the other one.”
He didn’t even have his staff or that set of clothing with him. Did he have to worry about offending jorik now that he had this invisible marking on himself?”
“You can sense that?”
“All jorik can. It marks you as someone of great trust as I’m sure Nolia has explained.”
He wanted to laugh. They hadn’t told him anything until Lausu sprang the news on him.
Norman thought of something. “I can ask her to come here?”
That got the man to pause and turn to him in thought. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “No. The guards would report her.”
Speaking of guards, Norman glanced around at their silent shadows. “But Saliu is here. Won’t that be a problem?”
“No, he was from a very minor family. They wouldn’t know who he is. But they would recognize Nolia instantly. She hasn’t changed much from her time at home.”
The pair fell into silence after that, soon completing their walk back to the building.
“Do you think we have a chance to figure out a solution?” Norman asked.
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Only time will tell.”
Norman grunted at that. It wasn’t very reassuring.
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Comments
Clothman
That or he invents a flying sleigh. Pulled by undead.. Sort of reindeer -ish creatures. If you squint hard, and its misty cold, and, literally magical, demonic, sort of way. Flaming bright eyes. Ember glowing noses that dripped dull orange glowing goo. Which after a bit of flying around creating a hyper gifted zombie plague. The survivors live in terror of jingling bells. Saviour Santa bringeth gifts galore. At a price. By accident. Who could have predicted it takes longer to activate at first... Funnier still Norman is a red bear outfit.laughing in the sky, thinking of the mad stoned stoned thoughts, he used to have. As he's zipping around, dripping around glowing goo. Bells jingling as he goes. Incidentally reducing charge time. A Faustian bargain, powers, solutions, at unintended, unimagined prices. Possibly because Donovan just annoyed him, too much so he left and got bored briefly.
Clothman
And then, Norman, has a nightmare, both creating a new spell and waking extremely grumpy. Then horrified as he wraith-ifies everyone not undead or his Queen, into will-o-wisps for 10 square miles around. By accident. Some people kick the blanket off when they fight in dreams. Norman doesn't fight like that. Oops. Ummm... Sorry.... Well he also might have solved a bit of the siphon issue.. Soo, not a bad thing? Who knows how long willowisps live? Indefinite? ... And everyone is now united. With ravenous fervour. The maddness fallen for a lamppost... Merry new beer!.... Tftc :)
