Finch

Forever afraid of attack, Finch seems small for all her size. Perhaps this is why she has so small and secretive a familiar - or perhaps there is another reason. Why is Finch so meek a Necroservus?

This was an amazing round of DFL. Every entry was absolutely wonderful and some of these were incredibly hard to pick between - you all clearly put a lot of effort in and it really shows. Many thanks also to @Delotha for their hard work in keeping tabs on everyone's entries and making sure everything was posted properly.

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@Bxy26 - You've won Finch! The idea of her meekness prompting her to be largely passed over - her only stubbornness being in refusal of service - until she's taken under the wing of a Fae Necroservus of all creatures is just wonderful. The reason for her fear and the promise of mentorship starts sad and ends so wholesome!

Necrotober 2021 Day 2: Fear

Finch held her whiskers stiffly, jolting at every shuffling sound. So few Necromancers entered the Archives that she doubted she'd see one, and yet...this was the Council Hub. The place was swarming with Necros. And that, as always, included other Imperials.

She shuddered. Her master was trying his hardest, but she still could not shake the fear she had of her breed. That was why he had sent her into the archives--alone--looking for a particular treatise on pathological phobias. Such diseases of the heart and mind were not those of a Necromancer to control, but you never knew what you might find in the archives.

She tripped over something. For just a moment, she'd been focused on the dusty shelves, and now there came a growl in response. It seemed to go on and on, growing in intensity and volume until the shelves rattled. Someone on the next aisle over turned their head, glaring at her between the shelves. His eyes flamed in the darkness, and her knees turned to water as she recognized the largest and most feared of all Necromancer Imperials.

ConTam was in the library, and she had just stepped on his tail.

In her mind, if even a quarter of the tales of his madness were true, he was already half an Emperor. Forgetting about her mission, she gave a small yeep and bolted. Leaping over shelves and sending other smaller Necros sprawling in her haste, she half ran, half flew toward the exit.

She could hear ConTam's roar behind her, if not the words. There was nothing in her mind except escape. She bolted out the door, sending her poor Fae master tumbling head over heels in midair.

"FINCH." His tone could not change, but his volume certainly could.

"Y-y-y-y-yes, master?"

"What on Sorneith--" ConTam's roar was much closer now. "Oh frostbreath. You would have to run into him. I'd better go explain."

Finch shivered next to the wall. She hated her fear. She hated the irrationality of it, the crippling instability, and the fact that it meant that she, a giant Imperial, was cowering out here while her poor dear master, as tiny, old, and feeble as he was, had to face down one of the most powerful Mancers on the Council. She tried, really she did--but at least everyone else was afraid of ConTam, too, not just her. She took a tiny grain of comfort in that.

But Alden is not afraid of ConTam. The thought made her guilty and disappointed in herself all over again. Her fear displeased the Mother. It was what had made her what she was, a Servus...and it was what stifled even her ability to serve. She hated herself for that.