Posting frequency: All day long, unless I’m taking a test, asleep or otherwise away from my devices.
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[From a letter, addressed to the archmage of an unspecified wizard academy.]
First of all I’d like to say that the allegations unjustly made against me in regard to counts of necromancy are not made in good faith and furthermore, terribly unspecific. In fact, I would go as far as to deem them slander. Have I studied dead bodies in details? Yes, indeed I have. Have I done so without prior consent of the deceased? Only in very specific cases, i.e. when the dead bodies conveniently ambled up to me in the form of undead. I think in those cases, it’s somewhat justified to study the necromancy involved, if only to find out where it originates from.
Additionally, I think it is of vital importance to reconsider the whole of my life before making any judgements about my character. Yes, I was a very sickly child indeed, and that does play a role within the events that shaped me, but not in the way you’d think.
It was Greengrass, you see, and the entire village was bustling. We were located on a busy road, so we got plenty of visitors with us to celebrate the festival. My poor health prevented me from partaking in the festivities, as I’d fallen into a brook the day before which left me with a nasty cold. I spent most of the day in and out of slumber, and only learnt of the terrible events that had come to pass the next day. You see, somehow our well had gotten poisoned. My once bustling village was now a veritable field of corpses. I must have been perhaps six summers at most. Yes, I am very intelligent, but you must admit that not even a six year old could not and would not have poisoned their entire village. Thus, the rumors that have haunted my very step since that day are completely unfounded.
The rest of it I am sure you are aware of— I was found and taken in by merchants passing by the village, who left me at the orphanage where I lived until I displayed an aptitude for studies to do with the arcane. I formally trained within the hallowed halls of your academy, scouring the library for answers to the most important question of all.
‘Doctor Fauntleroy’, I imagine you asking, ‘why not seek therapy to deal with these tragic events?’ My good sir, this is therapy. It is useful therapy. ‘But you cannot just banish Death forever! That is impossible!’ Let me remind you that the impossible is only impossible until proven possible. Nobody thought it possible to wilt nature on such a scale until Abi-Dalzim proved it possible with his Horrid Wilting spell, after all.
I mean not to return my village to life. It’s been over twenty-five Greengrass festivals after all. I can hardly remember my mother’s face— why would I resurrect her? To have an insufferable nag complain about my workspace? Yes, that mummified hand needs to be put away, I am aware, I just didn’t get to it yet. Believe me, good sir, I have had enough nagging from professors for a lifetime.
No, my goal is not to resurrect one particular being. This is not meant for myself personally. What I mean to do is to cure not just humans, not just dwarves and halflings and gnomes but everyone, even the long-lived elves from the worst illness of all— Death.
To do so, I will not kidnap unwilling participants. I will not use just any body I find. Only those who having given me their consent or were undead prior to my interferenceor in very particular cases, are simply too intriguing to ignore, will be used in my research. Necromancy in itself is not evil— it is merely a tool, after all.
I wholeheartedly believe that the cure for Death lays within the noble School of Necromancy. And thus I am sorry to inform you cannot exile me from your noble college— I am quitting myself. I feel like our paths diverge from here on out. Thank you for all your guidance, and you are very welcome for all the contributions I made over the years.
I wish you the very best. Give my apologies to the janitor for the mess I left in my former dorm. I did want to clean up the blood, but you know how it is.
Professor Bryce Fauntleroy.
(P.S. So sorry about the fire I started in Professor Filchbatter’s office. Total accident, though in my defense, he was being afucking asshole cretin.)
Google Sheet: Click!
[From a letter, addressed to the archmage of an unspecified wizard academy.]
First of all I’d like to say that the allegations unjustly made against me in regard to counts of necromancy are not made in good faith and furthermore, terribly unspecific. In fact, I would go as far as to deem them slander. Have I studied dead bodies in details? Yes, indeed I have. Have I done so without prior consent of the deceased? Only in very specific cases, i.e. when the dead bodies conveniently ambled up to me in the form of undead. I think in those cases, it’s somewhat justified to study the necromancy involved, if only to find out where it originates from.
Additionally, I think it is of vital importance to reconsider the whole of my life before making any judgements about my character. Yes, I was a very sickly child indeed, and that does play a role within the events that shaped me, but not in the way you’d think.
It was Greengrass, you see, and the entire village was bustling. We were located on a busy road, so we got plenty of visitors with us to celebrate the festival. My poor health prevented me from partaking in the festivities, as I’d fallen into a brook the day before which left me with a nasty cold. I spent most of the day in and out of slumber, and only learnt of the terrible events that had come to pass the next day. You see, somehow our well had gotten poisoned. My once bustling village was now a veritable field of corpses. I must have been perhaps six summers at most. Yes, I am very intelligent, but you must admit that not even a six year old could not and would not have poisoned their entire village. Thus, the rumors that have haunted my very step since that day are completely unfounded.
The rest of it I am sure you are aware of— I was found and taken in by merchants passing by the village, who left me at the orphanage where I lived until I displayed an aptitude for studies to do with the arcane. I formally trained within the hallowed halls of your academy, scouring the library for answers to the most important question of all.
‘Doctor Fauntleroy’, I imagine you asking, ‘why not seek therapy to deal with these tragic events?’ My good sir, this is therapy. It is useful therapy. ‘But you cannot just banish Death forever! That is impossible!’ Let me remind you that the impossible is only impossible until proven possible. Nobody thought it possible to wilt nature on such a scale until Abi-Dalzim proved it possible with his Horrid Wilting spell, after all.
I mean not to return my village to life. It’s been over twenty-five Greengrass festivals after all. I can hardly remember my mother’s face— why would I resurrect her? To have an insufferable nag complain about my workspace? Yes, that mummified hand needs to be put away, I am aware, I just didn’t get to it yet. Believe me, good sir, I have had enough nagging from professors for a lifetime.
No, my goal is not to resurrect one particular being. This is not meant for myself personally. What I mean to do is to cure not just humans, not just dwarves and halflings and gnomes but everyone, even the long-lived elves from the worst illness of all— Death.
To do so, I will not kidnap unwilling participants. I will not use just any body I find. Only those who having given me their consent or were undead prior to my interference
I wholeheartedly believe that the cure for Death lays within the noble School of Necromancy. And thus I am sorry to inform you cannot exile me from your noble college— I am quitting myself. I feel like our paths diverge from here on out. Thank you for all your guidance, and you are very welcome for all the contributions I made over the years.
I wish you the very best. Give my apologies to the janitor for the mess I left in my former dorm. I did want to clean up the blood, but you know how it is.
Professor Bryce Fauntleroy.
(P.S. So sorry about the fire I started in Professor Filchbatter’s office. Total accident, though in my defense, he was being a
