A taste of the dark arts.

Surrounded by bones and a few rats, the equation was simple. The magic that raised you would in time run out. You had to get out of here fast before your body shriveled even more and you were reduced to a lifeless husk.

You were looking at the pile of bones at the bottom of the pit in search of anything useful but didn't find much. Bones and rusted weapons, a few rats that were unfortunate enough to be trapped in with you gave you a small respite, adding a few grains of sand to you hourglass.

You had your holding bag but you had set most of your possessions in your small room in the tower. Picking the dark sword that seemed the only useful item in here you were suddenly assaulted by a torrent of knowledge and memories.

Plants, animals, peoples dying from a simple touch to satiate you. Rotting flesh moving again after dark utterances. Bones animated without sinews or muscles. Mortals bending the knee in front of your power, out of fear for the smartest or possessed by your will for the weakest.

You would have puked if you had anything in your belly, or were still in a living body.

You remembered things you never lived, things about the ritual. A mage standing in a circle of hooded figures, words older than anything you knew, the blades, the blood, **** and Resurrection.

You knew about spells, runes and ritual that had been forbidden in the Empire since its founding. In that dark knowledge was the key to escape this pit.

You had an idea, it was insane and wouldn't last long, it would also drain most of what energy you had left. Using the sword you took apart a few of the skeletons and tore shreds of your ragged clothes. You made a harness from ribs and bits of your clock that would support your weight. You had fashioned six long arms that made you look like a giant slider out of bones and bits of metal. The whole thing was gross and it took you hours to engrave the small runes on each bone to make it work.

After a long incantation and the ritual smashing of seven skull the arms took life and using their long reach began to climb the well by stretching themselves from side to side and lifting your harness.

In little time you were climbing over the edge of the old well, crawling on the ash covered ground just in time to see your contraption turn to dust, the runes having drained all that was left of the life that once inhabited those bones time took its toll on them.

The sun was falling and you had to quickly find something to feed you before you were too weak for your escape to matter.

You saw your reflection into a puddle of rainwater you were shocked at your looks. Your light brown hair had turned grey and your youthful features had left place to a gaunt appearance that could only fit a dead or dying man. By luck you had not left any part of you anatomy, ears, nose, eyes and all had been left alone by the rats and other scavenger creatures.

The skin of your right hand was livelier than the rest of your body. It was the one you used to cast the spell that had drained the vermin of their life ****, maybe if you were fully fed you would have a chance to look alive again, maybe more lifeforce could even make you feel things other than the cold that had stuck with you since your awakening.

Checking around and focusing your sight you sensed a strange feeling to the south, and another one much stronger but a lot farther to the east.

After a few moments you noticed the grunts and shouts that came from the south, the loud voices and crude language could come only from one type of creatures.

ORCS!

And they were not alone as you heard the cries for help of a woman in the same direction.

You had to choose. Going back towards human lands opposite of both signals, go investigate the orcs nearby or go look what this strong feeling was far east.