AN: Well, someone left me a nasty comment on one of my chapters. What they said was completely uncalled for, and their accusations were unfounded. No, I will not say who it was, where it's at, or ask for others to voice their own opinions. Just know that I do not appreciate comments such as those. Besides, I did write a disclaimer above the prologue, so it's not exactly my fault if they disliked it, right?

Anyways, I have some news about the story. It's almost at the epilogue stage on my buffer side. "What does that mean, OWL?" Well, it means once I've written it up, there'll be two chapters a day until it's out there for everyone to read. Afterwards comes an AMA type post, where you folks get to ask me all sorts of questions, and can supply me with ideas on what you'd like to see in the next arc. Just note that I do have the final say on what'll be in there, but I would like to hear your ideas.

AFTER the AMA post. Not going to disappear on you all right now, because we're almost there.

As always, folks, thank you for reading thus far. If you have any questions, comments, or concerns, please don't hesitate to let me know.

_______________________________

"That is wonderful news, My Lord God, and would be happy to join in celebration, but I seem to be missing a body at the moment." The skull that was Brutus gave a soft sigh, as it was hoisted into the air by one of my lesser clawed hands.

"Your sarcasm is noted, Brutus; we will have to rectify this," my voice rumbled slowly, whilst my gaze swiftly glanced over the ruined field around us. A soft, melodious drifted about my person, as my clawed hands began tearing armour and weapons from the dead. It did not matter which race they belonged to, as I simply piled them all near the box that held the head of the Lich.

A few within my horde, who did not participate in the rampant revelry of the others, had noted what I was about, and supplied the pile with their own meager offerings. Though of course, I did have to command them to cease their depositing of arms and armour, as the pile had become as tall as my own chest bone. Although they were thanked for their efforts, their expressions did say they were disheartened. With a mental sigh, one that was echoed by Brutus, they were allowed to continue to deposit the items into the pile.

Many were elated by this, and continued to scour the field of blood and death in sear of more to offer my being. "They seemed to be much like children, My Lord God," spoke the Lich, who watched the others scamper off in search of "offerings".

"In a way, they still are," I affirmed, resuming the melodious tune as my three free clawed hands began to mold and shape the discarded arms and armour. Each item melted into a spherical orb, as I plied it with my energies. They were then set off to the side, as I contemplated on what to create. For you see, although my artistic skills were considerably lacking, Brutus still needed a body with which to function.

Perhaps about ten percent of the pile was used up, when I first began to mold a pair of skeletal feet. This pair was modeled after my own, albeit scaled down, and from there, I moved upwards. Creating a skeleton from within one's mind doesn't always come out perfect, not unless they have been trained to do so. Which is why I created a metallic body fashioned after my own, without the head of course.

Ah, many of you seem confused as to how I was able to do this. Well, do you remember the beginning of the tale? Where I was transported to the second world called Azzarath? The Enchanters of that world is able to create arms and armour simply by using their own energies and imaginations. Although my own 'class', as it were, was very much a unique one, I still received some knowledge about the original.

It was a strange class, to be sure. What is more, that world does not have blacksmithing, nor even the notion of the word. Why bother with such a thing, if the Enchanters of that world are able to bypass the flame, anvil, and hammer to shape various metals. Yes, even the silver and gold smiths did not exist there, for much of the same reason.

If you are curious about the Dwarven race, who are usually every world's best smiths, then you must know that they are not upon that world. Instead, they happen to be Runesmiths, whilst the Elven races are prevalent in Enchnatments. Much like the bright elves within this room, who have the most talented Enchanters upon our world, so too were the elves of Azzarath.

Ah, but I have gotten off track once more. For this, I apologise.

The body I had crafted was an iron replica of my own body, but with some mistakes here and there. Though, once the body has been claimed by the Lich, the mistakes would seemingly disappear. To you who do not understand what I mean, simply listen to my words, for all will be revealed shortly.

"M-m-m-y Lor-d G-god?" Stammered the Lich, as his own eyes stared upon the metallic body that was being supported by a few bestial creatures of my horde. It stood well above three metres in height, and mirrored much the same of my own body. Such as the primary and minor clawed hands, the enlarged clawed feet, and yes, it even had a tail. However, much like my own, that own did not move beyond keeping the body balanced.

"The body is yours, Brutus," my voice was a soft rumble, but still managed to shake the earth beneath our feet, as I settled his skull upon the neck. However, I needed to fasten his head upon it, and molded a sort of head piece that wrapped itself securely around his skull. "Now, repeat after me, Brutus, as this is very important for you to claim this body for your own."

The words I spoke to him are not ones to be repeated, as they are a trade secret amongst we who are Enchanters. Although the ones upon this world could do nothing to stop myself from repeating the words, I will not do so. Thus, you will remain forever curious. However, I will tell you it was a spell of great magnitude, and could potentially, if abused, lead to an immortal life. For this spell is called, "Mors corporis animique". This roughly translates to "The living death of the body and mind."

Yes, these words are ominous, but I assure you all, it is anything but. No, this is a ritual to combine the body and mind to an inanimate object, which allows them to move the extra appendage, or items, as though it were their own since the beginning of their birth. As to the why of its name, well, this sort of spell binds the object, or limb/s, to a person's body.

Looking into your eyes, I see you are confused, so allow me to try and explain it slowly. Let's say you had lost a limb, be it an arm or leg. This would keep you from working, earning a living to provide for your family. Well, if one were to spend a small amount, they would be able to regain that lost limb by grafting an inanimate arm to their socket. The same applies to any sort of lost digits upon your hands and feet.

Yes, it is exciting, but as with all things across all worlds, everything must have a price. Most of the time, that price is paid through the Enchanter's own magicks, but in other cases it is through pain. Unlike all other bodily pains, this one is mainly mental. There have been many cases where the recipient of a limb would claim their own minds were aflame during this process, burning even a whisper of a thought. Even after the procedure, does this pain continue to linger, stealing away all thoughts benign or otherwise, and has even caused many to seek out their own deaths. For you see, this is the living death of the body and mind, as many have called it. As such, it would be wise to think long and hard before you perform an action that could, essentially, cause a limb to become misplaced.

Brutus, on the other hand, had lost his body, and as such, had to endure far more than any others. In a word, yes, his voice did fill the air with his own screams. No, I did not warn him, and how could I? I of the past did not know what this ritualistic spell could do to someone who had lost everything below the neck. However, he was of the Undead, and I was confident in his recovery.

Yes, he did recover, but a dozen within the horde had served as a sacrifice to placate the raging body that was the Lich. This was so, because of the berserk nature the ritual had cast over his mind in payment for gaining a new body, and because I needed him immobile so that my own magicks could shock his mind back to reality. Once he returned, however, he spent much of his time begging for forgiveness, as I called the horde to my person so that I may explain to them what will happen.

Once all had gathered, or what I assumed was everyone still alive, my own being rounded on the Lich's, and forced him to his feet. "Stand and be proud, Brutus," my voice became a growl as I spoke these words, "For you are the first of many to receive such blessings." His own head merely nodded as I spoke, "You are Undead. Act like it."

Turning to the others, I did not see his reaction, but many others would tell my person it was of sorrow and hatred. Perhaps these emotions were directed towards himself, but I shall never know except for himself.

"To those who have gathered before me," I began, causing my own voice to thunder across the stilled field of death and destruction, "I thank you all for journeying thus far. Most of you, here, will continue on with the dragon-men and women, as they will be attacking the humans on their own land. However, the rest will be journeying with myself and Brutus towards our home of New Wair. For I have promised a swift return to many, and I always keep my promises.