Actions

Work Header

Your Necro Questions Answered

Chapter Text

Nav the Cav is a smash-hit advice column offering a sympathetic ear to cavaliers across the realm and providing knowledgeable solutions to common necromancer problems. It is published in every other issue of Deep Space Depravities.

Thank you for joining us for this week's column of Your Necro Questions Answered!


Dry_near_Dominicus writes: Dear Nav, I’m worried that my necro is dehydrated. I monitor their fluid intake assiduously and it consistently falls short of recommended targets. When I bring them water they say thank you and then they put it down and NEVER DRINK IT. I’m at my wit’s end. Please help.

Dear Dry: I’m glad you brought this up, because I’m sure many other readers are worried about their necro’s basic nutrition as well. They look underfed all the time, don’t they? What you should always remember is that in most every way, necromancers are freaks of nature with fundamentally different (some might say inferior) biology to our own. While they could and should eat and drink like normal people, there are fewer consequences for them if they don’t, so they get off on refusing to do so. One time, mine chose to pass out in a haunted basement encased in a giant bone rather than get a cup of water. Needless dramatics.

I can tell your necro is more level-headed than mine, but I’m still going to recommend a less direct approach to the water issue because if you sit there watching them, they won’t drink. Here's what I do: I leave cups of water in all the areas of our home my necro frequents, so whenever she realizes she is thirsty, there’s some water for her to sip. As far as home décor goes, it’s unsightly. How many times have I heard “Nav, stop leaving your unfinished water glasses in my study” or “Nav, why can’t you bring your dishes to the sink” but also, I often find them half-emptied so they’re doing their job. Try it out and write back to us about how it’s going, we always love to print reader’s success stories!

CannotBeStopped writes: Dear Nav, all this walk-a-half-step-behind business has lead me to notice that my necromancer has a very nice butt. Seriously, it’s perfect and I can’t stop staring at it. Should I find a way to stop? It all feels very unprofessional.

Dear Cannot: If you have been blessed with a view straight out of Cohort Booty Camp 2, the only thing you can do is enjoy it. Most necromancers look like anemic walking sticks, so if yours has some junk in the trunk (mine does not), just thank your lucky stars and take an extra long look for the rest of us.

Sleepless in Trentham writes: Dear Nav, I’ve just been given my necromancer and he looks extremely frail. Just, the noodliest noodle arms and stick legs you’ve ever seen. It looks like a strong wind will blow him over. I’m afraid to let him out of my sight lest something happen. It’s affecting my sleep. I get up throughout the night just to check on him. I can't keep living this way. What is your advice?

Dear Sleepless: First of all, congratulations on being paired with a necro, that’s a big achievement. I want you to know that you’re asking the right questions and you’re on the right track. Keeping your necromancer safe should be your top priority, but let me give you some perspective. While most necromancers can’t lift anything heavier than a large book, and only then if they’re determined, they do actually have some natural defense mechanisms. They’re secretive bastards who like to guard their house’s secrets, so if you didn’t grow up with any (you’re lucky) you might not have seen what they can do yet. Let me assure you, most of them can do freakier shit than you’ve ever imagined, like leech your soul straight out of your damn body. Worst feeling. Don’t recommend.

In conclusion, you gotta relax. Get some sleep. Your necromancer can hold off an attacker at least long enough for you to run in and help, in most cases. To make things even easier, I might recommend moving your bed into your necromancer’s room if you haven’t already; it’s pretty traditional so they shouldn’t fuss. It will spare you some trips back and forth. As most of my long-time readers know, even though it’s a controversial practice** I let my necromancer sleep right on my bed with me. If you can get to that level, good for you. It makes checking to see if they’re breathing incredibly easy.

**Some people say this is a bad idea because it encourages the necromancer to think of themselves as superior to you, making them intractable. I say it depends on the necromancer. If you’ve got mutual respect already established and you want to share covers, I say go for it.

Disappointed writes: Dear Nav. I think I got a dud necromancer, is there any chance of swapping them out?

Dear Disappointed: Oof, sorry to hear that, buddy. Unfortunately, it’s a no-takebacks situation. Once you say those four words, you’re pretty much stuck with them.

It’s not a pleasant topic to dwell on, but some necromancers do genuinely suck. They’re mean, stuck-up, selfish, or from the Eighth House (In which case they’re mean, stuck-up, AND selfish all at once. Sorry not sorry. No one reads my column on the Eighth anyway, my editor tells me.) You didn’t give me more details about why you think your necromancer is sub-par, but I would say give it a bit of time if you haven’t, and see if you can really get to know them.

You know, I was wrong about mine when I got her. If you had asked me back then, I would have told you I would rather be slowly bled to death, or dropped down a mine shaft, or crushed to pulp under an enormous rock than be her cavalier. But she turned out okay. Here's a real time quote for you readers: “Nav, what are you looking at me like that for?” She is a darling. “And what are you always scribbling about so secretively?” she asks. I told her “you,” which isn’t wrong, and she has made the best face. Imagine the expression of someone who has found a fly in their soup, but is also blushing.

Anyway, if you give it the old college try, and after all that you’re sure your necro is definitely a turd, I just have one bit of advice for you: never, never, ever let them get behind you with a sharp object. Can’t say more on that. Just trust me.

Success Story of the Week!:

Dear Nav, In your column published in the Deep Space Depravities Holiday Edition: Tittle my Jingles you had recommended that for a holiday gift I should find the oldest book I could possibly find and give it to my necromancer. I very seriously doubted that a moldy book was going to excite my necromancer, especially because she has SO MANY books already. However, since you are the expert, I went looking in the deepest and darkest places I had access to and came up with some cobwebbed, water-damaged piece of barely-legible literature. Nav, I have to tell you, she has not put that thing down since. You would have thought I had given her some rare jewel or animal, the way she handled it so admiringly. The way she looked at me changed, too, like I had surprised her into taking a closer notice of me. Things have been better between us than they ever were before. Thank you, Nav!

P.S. I love whenever you talk about your relationship with your necro! You two are so cute! I hope you’ll tell your whole story to your loyal fans one day. I imagine it's extremely romantic.


That’s all for this week’s column. If you’ve got a question for Nav the Cav, you can send a communication to our central office on Rhodes, Station 10023X1C. We look forward to hearing from you!