《Heather the Necromancer》2-1 Too many choices

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The sun was in its dawn position, and the sky was blue as they looted Moon's town hall. The goblins agreed to help Heather carry stuff back, and she reanimated her skeletons to carry more. Now she sat in a side room with Frank and Quinny while he worked.

She paced impatiently as Frank tapped through the options on her panel. He'd been poking at it for hours now, going through every menu, sub-menu, or setting he could find. She was nervously optimistic that there was going to be an escape button that sent her home. However, as time went by, her hope began to fade. Finally, he set the panel aside and shook his head.

“I don’t think there is anything I can do,” he said. “And I don’t think I could use the panel if you left it to me.”

“You’re sure?” she asked him.

“I can look at all the menus, but I can't change anything. I can't alter a single setting because the panel is locked to you.”

“But if I got out, maybe it would unlock?” she suggested.

“I think even if you found a way out, the panel would just vanish.”

Heather sighed and looked around the graveyard.

“Then I really am trapped here,” she said. “And now I am trapped as a banned character that people will come looking for.”

“I could remove the graveyard and go someplace else,” he suggested.

“You’re not giving up all the progress you made burying bodies for me,” Heather insisted. “I am an adult I will deal with this like an adult.”

“So you're going to stop screaming?” he asked.

She shot him an angry glance and paced the room with her arms folded.

“I am sorry you can’t go back,” Quinny said.

Heather turned about and shook her head. “I knew I was stuck here. I may not know much about this world, but even I saw the news articles that nobody ever came back. I guess I was in shock that I was chosen. I refused to accept the truth.”

“I would be upset too if I had been forced in,” Quinny admitted. “Frank and I wanted to be here. We spent time learning about the world and what we were getting into before coming in. You were thrown into something you didn't want and shouldn't have to accept.”

“Thank you for understanding, but I have to face facts. I am here for good, and I am going to deal with it. She turned to Frank and took a deep breath. “What do I have to do now?”

“I saw some menus for setting up your panel,” he said. “They seem to control how you use it. You need to look through them and see if you can find a way to protect it. I would tell you more, but I can't open those setting for some reason.” He picked it up and held it out to her, and she reluctantly took it.

She looked at the screen and tapped at a few windows.

“I suppose we should go back to the graveyard then,” she said. “Before Moon or one of the others turns up. I will look through this as we walk.”

“Are you sure you have everything you want?” Frank asked. “I think I saw some wallpaper still hanging in one of the rooms.”

Heather folded her arms and tapped a foot. “Unless you know where I can find an Ikea, you need to be quiet.”

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“Miss Heather!” Margus called from outside.

They all looked up, and Heather went to the door.

“What is it?” she asked as she opened the door.

“We got that locked room off the bedroom open,” he said. “You should come look.”

Heather glanced at Frank, who shrugged, and they followed the dwarf to the room they assumed was Moons. Heather already stripped it bare, but a doorway in the back was locked and bolted. She could see as they came in that it had been hacked open with an axe.

She stepped into the doorway and looked inside as a smile spread over her face.

“Well, this will certainly help me settle into my new life,” she said happily.

Frank stood behind her and groaned. “Oh, no!”

Heather walked through the gates of the graveyard with a new dress in her arms. Behind her walked her skeletons loaded down with baskets of clothing, plates, glasses, tableware, and other household goods.

Next in the procession were a dozen goblins carrying some chairs, a little desk, and an ornate rug that took five of them to carry. One group of four pulled a handcart they found in the village laden with stuff they fond in moons room.

Heather discovered an assortment of things she wanted as Margus hacked the large double bed to pieces. She lamented the loss of the bed but took extra blankets and linens. She took the mirror from Moon's wall as well as all her hairbrushes, soaps, scented oils, a dozen socks, and two pairs of shoes that fit snugly. She raided the vault and stole away with more bottles of cider, some wines, a dozen more colorful dresses, a lovely hat with big flowers on one side. She even found some bread and cheese, which she added to the goblins hand cart.

Behind them came Frank complaining and groaning as he and six of the big goblins carried the large wooden tub. Heather wanted to fill the tub with more goodies, but Frank refused to carry it if she made it any heavier.

She led them through the graveyard to the tower, where it was all unloaded on the ground floor.

“I should have scared you away,” Frank puffed as he and the goblins carrying the tub collapsed to the floor.

“It’s just a little tub,” Heather said with a smile.

“It’s big enough to hold three people,” he pointed out.

“Like I said, it’s little,” she replied as she looked around at her treasures.

“I want to put the rug in my bedroom,” she said as she quickly began to sort out how she wanted things placed.

Frank shook his head and waved a hand. “We can do that later. You have more important things to do first.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Did you figure out how to secure your panel? So nobody can steal it again.”

Heather smiled smugly and held the panel up with one hand.

“I looked at that as we walked back,” she said. “The last light is a menu of final options. One of them is how I want to equip my panel.”

“So, you have choices?”

Heather nodded as she stepped over an exhausted goblin. “I can make it vanish and call it back. I can turn it into a magical necklace. I can transform it into a book that nobody else can read or even remove. I can make it into a magical tattoo that goes on my wrist, and I can even make it into a little pet that follows me around.”

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“You can turn your panel into a creature?” Frank asked.

Heather held it out so he could see as she scrolled through a list of silly little animals. He studied it for a moment and rubbed his chin with the back of a long finger.

“I like the pumpkin with the vines for limbs,” he said. “Or the floating skull.”

“I like the cat with the big eyes,” she replied. She turned it back and started to scroll through the options. I know how the lights work now. The first one is all the racial options. Each additional light is for a class up to three, and the last light is the final option. You can set your panel options and some other things.”

“What other things?”

She tapped the button next to the last light and read the screen.

“I can choose my respawn time. I can set it as low as one hour or as long as one day. I can choose to set any one class as primary and gain a bonus. I can toggle how much of my experience I want to go to each class as I earn it. I can choose if I want to be anonymous or not.”

“What does that do?” Frank asked.

Heather read the tooltip. “It says if I want to allow other chosen to see that I am also chosen through their panels, or remain anonymous.”

“Remain anonymous,” Frank said. “The fewer people who can find out your secret, the better.”

“A bunch of people know already,” Heather protested. “Moon isn’t going to keep it a secret.”

“Moon is after the reward,” Frank argued. “She won't tell anybody if she thinks she can still claim it.”

“She will be back eventually,” Heather said with a shake of her head. “I suppose we will have to work to level up so she won’t be a threat.”

Umtha walked in the door with Quinny as Heather tapped away.

“Goblins go home now,” Umtha announced. “We bring apples in a day.”

“Thank you,” Heather said sweetly. “And thank you for saving me.”

“Heather save Umtha, so Umtha save Heather,” the goblin woman said. She whistled with a strange high note to the tired goblins. Slowly they got up, grumbling and stretching as they followed her out.

“So this is your tower?” Quinny asked as she looked around at the piles of stuff.

“It’s all mine,” Heather said with a smile. “Frank and I were just deciding what options I needed to pick to hide my panel.”

“Did you ever pick a third class?” he asked.

Heather tapped through the panel. “Not yet. I can’t take it unless I remain human, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.”

“You can still choose a monster race?” Quinny asked.

Heather nodded as she paced with her panel. “No offense, but I don't want to be a monster race. I do like the golden sprite, and I like some of the elven races. Oh, and I like that one with the butterfly wings, but they were tiny.”

“I think there is a class that gives you wings like that at higher levels,” Quinny said. “I was thinking of playing it.”

“What class is that?” Heather asked.

“Look up Fay shadow spirit,” she said.

Heather tapped away at the panel and smiled at the image that came up.

“Oh, I like that,” she said with a smile.

“And, it cheats the undead rules,” Quinny said.

Heather looked up at her with a raised brow. “How so?”

“Read the tenth level ability,” Quinny replied.

Heather scrolled through the list and went to the tenth level.

“Spirit of nature,” she read. “Become a spirit of the fay gaining the following special powers. Immune to disease and most poisons. Immune to mind affecting spells. Can't be put into a magical sleep. It does not need to breathe, sleep, or eat. Can only be hurt by magic or magical weapons.”

“Those are the same bonuses of being a powerful undead,” Frank said.

Quinny nodded. “It is undead. You take a spirit form that makes you undead while you're in it.”

“But not a monster race?” Heather asked.

“It’s a class,” Quinny said. “The spirit form only works in the moonlight, and you can choose to drop out of it any time.”

“Could you be a zombie fay shadow spirit?”

Quinny shook her head. “I don’t think any of the undead races can pick it. You have to be a living race to play it.”

Heather looked at it and read through more of the description. “It’s a class that gives you a monster form,” she said mostly to herself.

“A lot of classes have special forms,” Frank said. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised there is one that has an undead form.”

“The death walker is another one,” Quinny said. “They summon a strong zombie and then become a ghost controlling the zombie directly. If the zombie dies, their body becomes solid again.”

“So, they aren't undead?” Heather asked.

“The summoned zombie is, and technically so is the player while they are in ghost form, but as soon as the zombie dies or the players releases it, they poof back to a normal body.”

“I should have played that,” Frank said. “I don’t recall that being a choice.”

“They keep adding classes and races to play,” Quinny said. “I only came in three weeks ago. They added a bunch of stuff right before I came in.”

“Why did you pick a zombie?” Heather asked.

Quinny laughed. “They keep borrowing things from other games and adding them in. I figured it was only a matter of time before they added in a zombie plague. I wanted to be free to hunt the survivors hiding in the ruins of a zombie-infested world.”

Heather thought back to the movies she had seen where the world was overrun with zombies and shuddered.

“Let’s hope they don’t do that,” she replied as she poked at her panel.

“You’re a necromancer,” Quinny laughed. “They will probably obey you.”

Heather shrugged and went back to tapping.

“So what choice were you going to pick for your panel?” Frank asked.

“It seems like the most secure option is the one that makes it vanish.”

“How do you get it back?” Quinny asked.

“You use a magic word, and it reappears,” Heather replied.

“But you don’t want that one do you?” Frank asked.

“I like the idea of the pet,” she said as she started to pace again. “But I feel like I need to pick the tattoo.”

“You can make it into a tattoo?” Quinny asked.

Heather held the panel up and showed them a page full of various pictures she could pick from.

“There's a bunch of categories,” Quinny said.

“Pick the one with skulls and chains,” Frank suggested.

“No,” Heather said. “I want something pretty.”

“Pick the one that’s woven roses then.”

Heather turned it around to look at it and frowned.

“It has blood dripping from the petals.”

“I know that’s why it’s cool,” he replied.

“I don’t want anything that looks like I am a biker,” she protested.

“But you’re a necromancer,” he pointed out. “It fits your build.”

“I want something with more color that looks pretty.”

Frank sighed and looked away as Quinny strained to see the screen.

“Do they have any flowers?” Quinny asked. “I like flowers.”

Heather tapped through a few categories and then turned it around to reveal a huge assortment of flowery designs.

“The roses were flowers,” Frank quipped from the background.

“That dripped blood,” Heather said with a shake of her head. “I want something nicer.”

“I like that one with the hummingbird in it,” Quinny said.

Heather held the panel out to look at it and smiled.

“I like that one too. Oh, and this one with the butterfly!”

“You're a zombie, and you're a necromancer, and you want butterflies and hummingbirds?” Frank protested.

“Everything doesn’t need to be dark and gloomy,” Heather said.

“You’re a wizard of the undead,” he argued.

“I still want some color,” Heather said.

“My forest will be dark and gloomy,” Quinny said. “The trees have really thick branches and leaves. It blocks out the sun and casts everything in shadows and gloom.”

“See,” Frank said.

“But I am going to make a few sunny spots for flowers,” Quinny added.

“See!’ Heather shot back.

“You two are impossible,” Frank muttered.

Heather smiled and clicked through the options.

“You know I had a thought. If I pick a tattoo, anyone who knows about them will know I am chosen.”

“The same could be said of the pet, or the jewelry,” Frank pointed out.

“Then the option to make it vanish is the best one,” Quinny said.

“I really wanted the tattoo, though,” Heather sighed.

“You should pick the option that makes you happiest,” Frank suggested. “It can’t be helped if somebody knows what some of that means. Don’t let that stop you from having what you want.”

Heather smiled and scrolled down until she found a blue rose with ghostly vines over a pattern of golden lines. It had three smaller white roses arranged around the blue rose in a sort of triangle.

“I like this one,” Heather said as she held the panel out for Quinny.

Quinny squinted at it and nodded. “The gold lines make it look like your wearing some kind of bracelet.”

“Then this is the one I take,” she said with a press.

The panel in her hand glowed with golden light and then became transparent. It formed into a flashing ball that raced to her arm and made her skin itch as the pattern she selected appeared on her left wrist.

“So, how do you use it?” Quinny asked.

“I think you do this,” Heather said as she ran a finger over the rose. A ghostly display screen appeared in the air over her left arm.

“That is really neat,” Quinny said.

“Now nobody can take it,” Heather replied with a smile.

“I wish we had done that sooner,” Frank sighed. “It would have saved us so much trouble.”

“Heather slid her finger over the rose, and the ghostly panel vanished.

“I didn't know I even needed to hide it. I don't understand this world or the people who play in it. I made a lot of mistakes, but I am starting to understand it better.”

“To be honest, neither did I. It wasn't until it was stolen that I thought about it,” he admitted. “I know the world better than you, but I don't know a whole lot about the chosen. I would have warned you if I did.”

Heather nodded and looked around the room. “Well, we are home, the panel is secure, and Moon should be too low a level to be a threat. We're finally done with all the mess.”

“Now, all you need to do is pick your third class,” Frank said.

Heather sighed. “Why is there always more I have to do?”

“Then, you can pick your weapon, your new tower options, and learn your spells.”

Across the graveyard could be heard Heather's cry of frustration.

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