15th Of Ashan 718
The aberrant necromancer had been in Fosters Landing for a spell, learning a bit from her departure from the small town on her way back to the home she knew in Etzos. She wanted to explore other avenues of hunting and flaying victims, the dark sorceress had a feeling that hunting where she slept was truly an atrocious idea but the fledging was left with relatively little resources in managing her ether addiction.
Shitting where you sleep was an unpalatable idea
Smart planning would be the key to survive, and you don't want to shit where you sleep so this was the best option as Lucretia would learn the winding roads and trails of the forest.
Preparation was truly the key as she walked along the beaten dirt path. While her fallacious familiar Voila was always close around. She never did build upon her newly formed relationship with her Harvester. A recalcitrant little mockingjay the critter was, hard to read but easy to understand it's motivations.
Lucretia tightly held onto her violin case. While she was practicing her singing, trying to find her range of vocals so that they would be put to good use. But like all beginners her voice needed much work, fine tuning and adjusting. As her voices pitch from time to time would crack or hit a note off key, but Lucretia would not let such a thing dissuade her from practice.
The cultist knew her magic was weak, but followed her teachers path, illuminated by her dark wisdom shed go through the darkness of the rabbit hole to cultivate her craft at whatever cost necessary.
As her voice wove semi melodious tones nonchalantly it wasn't great and it wasn't good but there was something there that made it a smidge better then bad. Maybe if molded with practice it could develop into something wonderful.
But the cultist had no idea what she was walking into, as she was blissfully unaware.
Shitting where you sleep was an unpalatable idea
Smart planning would be the key to survive, and you don't want to shit where you sleep so this was the best option as Lucretia would learn the winding roads and trails of the forest.
Preparation was truly the key as she walked along the beaten dirt path. While her fallacious familiar Voila was always close around. She never did build upon her newly formed relationship with her Harvester. A recalcitrant little mockingjay the critter was, hard to read but easy to understand it's motivations.
Lucretia tightly held onto her violin case. While she was practicing her singing, trying to find her range of vocals so that they would be put to good use. But like all beginners her voice needed much work, fine tuning and adjusting. As her voices pitch from time to time would crack or hit a note off key, but Lucretia would not let such a thing dissuade her from practice.
The cultist knew her magic was weak, but followed her teachers path, illuminated by her dark wisdom shed go through the darkness of the rabbit hole to cultivate her craft at whatever cost necessary.
As her voice wove semi melodious tones nonchalantly it wasn't great and it wasn't good but there was something there that made it a smidge better then bad. Maybe if molded with practice it could develop into something wonderful.
But the cultist had no idea what she was walking into, as she was blissfully unaware.