#Necromancy

[reallyinkyhands]

[gothtransandroid]

Normalize coating skeletons in indestructable metals so your army doesnt get wrecked by a single barbarian with a greatclub.

[stonegearstudios]

Inventing Necromancy but just to interrogate old cookbook authors about what the hell their measurements actually were, and what you do in the parts they don't cover cause "everyone knows how to cook this"

[kaminaepicwin]

Questions on Necromancy

[the-melancholy-man]

I just want to see more necromancy in the world idk

[gbee333]

Nico Di Angelo design!

:3 I didn’t rlly design this since it was mainly just him in my style but lol

Again.. more doodles (ik super surprising) :,) I didn’t have time to do a full body (ignore top right plz that’s an abomination I was so sleep deprived I didn’t wanna fix it.)

Bottom left was drawn by my lovely twin :) (they don’t have tumbler lol)

Both me and them had some art block that day so it’s not tttop notch stuff but it’ssss enough I’d say :)

(PLZ IK MY HANDWRITING IS HORRIDNESS DONT BULLY ME💔😭😭)

[lorkhanagendaposting]

The informants are telling me that laughing maniacally atop my tower as blasphemous sorcery floods the land in decay, is not socialist praxis.

[astra-ravana]

Bone Deep Divination

This is just going to be a quick post explaining curiomancy/osteomancy, showing my curiomancy set, and providing some tips so that you can make your own set.

Curiomancy is the art of divination through small, symbolic objects—anything from a key to a coin, a feather, or a seashell. Osteomancy, its bony cousin, uses bones—animal, occasionally human, ethically sourced—to glean insight from the way they fall or relate to one another. Both practices are intuitive, tactile, and highly personalized, making them stand out from more rigid systems like tarot or runes.

Keep a journal or list to log your piece meanings.

My curiomancy set took me about three years to complete. Each item was individually chosen based on my own, personal association with that object. What makes curiomancy and osteomancy deeply personal is that you build your own set. You choose what each item means, or better yet, let the item tell you. A plastic spider could represent opportunity. A wheat-back penny might speak of money, luck, or something worth remembering. Over time, your collection becomes a living language—one only you truly speak.

I keep a special cloth with my kit that I use to read with. It has a custom sigil on the back.

Creating your own set connects you directly to your practice. It forces you to observe patterns, develop symbolism, and work with intuition over preset meanings. That makes it wildly potent. This is your cosmology, not someone else’s.

Tips for Selecting Bones or Curios:

• Let them call to you. You’ll know when a piece belongs in your set—it’ll catch your eye, feel odd in your hand, or tug at your gut.

• Start small. Don’t aim for 30 pieces right away. Begin with 7–13 and let the rest come organically.

• Ethical sourcing matters. For bones, find remains in nature or purchase from reputable sellers. Know the animal if you can; its spirit may linger.

• Balance the energies. Mix light and dark, organic and artificial. You’re not building a pretty set—you’re building a tool that mirrors the world.

• Keep a record. Write down meanings as they emerge, but allow them to shift over time. Like bones, meaning is alive until it's not.

• Do practice readings to learn how your pieces interact with one another and the surface/spread. I read my bones in a spiral, others may use quadrants or a custom map.

Both curiomancy and osteomancy are less about the pieces and more about the story they tell together—an evolving mythos whispered by wood, metal, plastic, glass, and bone. This ancient divination form is still as relevant and potent today as it has ever been.

[kane-roman]

Since I get to put much more words in these posts I'm gonna start info dumping about my OCs.

First is Kane-Roman, the guy in my pfp. In my campaign setting, he is the guy who invented necromancy. Born with the unusual ability to speak with the dead, he made it his lifelong goal to create a place for souls to go when they die (instead of the alternative of fading into nothingness).

Kane-Roman worked with another mage, Elvron, to try and develop resurrection magic (Elvron was born with the abilities to regenerate and control the elements). With the powers of regeneration and soul manipulation combined, cracking true resurrection was within reach.

A divide grew between them when Kane-Roman discovered a way to allow souls back into their former bodies; the animation of skeletons and zombies. Elvron deemed it unnatural and sought to stop Kane-Roman at all costs, eventually leading to Kane-Roman's death.

Through death, Kane-Roman was able to properly observe the seams of reality in which ghosts resided. Using his residual energy to wedge them open, he allowed souls to travel to the outer planes upon their death, creating an afterlife.

Years after his death, corrupt mages got a hold of Kane-Roman's research. With the goal of immortality, these mages twisted his necromancy to subjugate souls; forcing them into their previous bodies and siphoning the necromantic energy that draws them to the afterlife. A magic born to aid the dead, instead turned into one to abuse them and make a mockery of life itself.

[gravekeeper-anna]

Daily Writing Challenge (May 2025)

Day 6 / May 30

Negative / Relic

@daily-writing-challenge

The Silverlight estate had long fallen since the day the dead came and marched a blighted path through Eversong, a ruined eidolon of the rich walls and lives that once inhabited it. The once golden fountain that crowned its welcoming courtyard was all that really retained shape now, dilapidated walls sunk or crumbled in on themselves, leaving only foundational doorways.

Still, its last survivor came to visit each week, bound to guilt and the urge to reclaim what had been lost. Alinora craved an opportunity of worth that would give her name precedence to Silvermoon again, as well as her lost family. Something to lift her out of servitude to another House, and rebuild her into a seat of nobility she once belonged to.

For years, she had tried but could never cross the entry hall’s threshold into the estate proper. A heavy fear kept Alinora from passing too far into broken doorframes. She could hear voices, as if wailing from the depths of hell. The walls shuddered when she would walk too close, as if they sought to crumble around her and bury the last living Silverlight within.

She knew little about the supernatural beyond charms and incense, but Alinora could feel the evil of the place in her bones, and it would not be abated by her or any prayer of the Light. She was a woman of very little means now, unable to afford much in the way of help. Convincing her employers to intervene would surely tip them off into what she meant to do. With all her luck, anything found by seedier peoples she'd involved would rob her of what remained of the estate, if anything remained at all.

But there was one she had heard rumors of, a figure that regularly haunted Tirasfal, one that would charge her no coin for a successful exorcism. A personage of strange ways, as she heard it. The Forsaken were always of a…unique disposition and demeanor. And as her eyes caught sight of the one they named the “Gravekeeper” appearing in approach from around the dark lake she waited at, Alinora felt a dreadful regret build in her stomach to have called on the haunting personage in the first place.

Riding what seemed to be a formidable destrier animated only by the framing of its own bones, the Gravekeeper was an uncanny ghost of flesh that was guided by it in the clutch of a saddle. Garbed in grey-blue funerary lace that contrasted deeply with the near unearthly glow of pale skin, Alinora reflexively held in her breath as the Keeper’s sights took her in, swallowed by the lantern light of her gaze. She felt an entire cemetery had visited upon her within those eyes, and readied her a coffin.

“You are the Lady Silverlight?” The sepulchral voice asked, a formal echo that could almost be gentle. Shadowy hair drifted from the crown of dead flowers atop the Keeper’s head, defying gravity.

“Y-yes - I–” Alinora answered after a long bout of struggling silence, staring upward at her mounted “savior”. The blood elf curtsied awkwardly. “I am Mis–Lady Silverlight. Yes.” She could no longer be called by such titles, but it felt right coming from the dead woman’s vocals, strange as it all was.

The Gravekeeper slid away from the saddle fluidly, her black skirts billowing like a fog about her willowy form. A soft scrape of metal heralded the sight of a great relic of a spade, clutched at her side. Alinora felt the blessing of being able to breathe again as the spectral eyes moved past her to the hollowed out estate itself. The Keeper's head tilted slowly until it reached an odd, unnerving angle in the viewing, deeply interested.

“I see…” she replied, a murmur, a whisper. A whisper that seemed to be echoed in slight, mimicked intonations around her, though Alinora could see nothing of where they came from. For a moment, she thought she was to go mad again with nothing but a swell of whispers, but it was a sound that died quickly as the Keeper took her steps toward the estate.

“Well then. I do quite think you have some visitors,” the Lady Keeper spoke with perhaps more creeping humor than one should have in such a harrowing haunt. “Stay there, dear girl,” she instructed Alinora with a suddenly frigid demand that seemed to freeze her feet to the spot. And then, without much more of another word, the Gravekeeper invited herself into the barely held framing that was the entrance of the estate.

Minutes passed, and the estate seemed to build from its disturbingly negative whispers, to disjointed groans, to angered shrieks belting from its darkest spaces. Alinora cringed, gasped as she heard shatterings from within, watched topsoil tremble, watched eerie blue light swell within broken walls. Her entire body tightened as she witnessed the remains of the Silverlight estate seem to heave as if it housed ghostly lungs, and let out a dreaded rattle, as if its very innards were expelling its last, threatening promise of unholy retribution. Just as Alinora thought she might turn and run for the city, the estate went silent, dead silent. The Gravekeeper emerged from the great doorway she entered through, right before it collapsed behind her. She seemed...entirely unphased.

What was more, the Keeper had went in alone, but with her every step outward, things unspoken broke through the ruined soil of the estate, collections of bones reanimated to walk again, and collect around her. Some skulls twisted on their levitating spines as they clicked into place, terrifyingly turning empty sockets on Alinora herself. None said a word. In her soundless fear, Alinora could only formulate the basic assumption that they had no muscle, no vocal chords to grind words with.

“Your estate is now safe for your…hmm, digging,” the Keeper spoke, her eyes much more interested in her skeletal crowd than Alinora herself. “I would suggest bringing a rather strong shovel.” A hint of a smile drifted on the Keeper’s bruised, deadened lips.

“A shovel….?” Alinora echoed in barely heard refrain, the terror waning in the face of some sort of success, yet moving to the utter confusion on where to begin next. “But…I thought? What…what should I do then?” Her mind numbed over with what had just transpired and no real understanding of it. The fallen noble realized she had no idea what she was expecting.

The Gravekeeper seemed to tilt her head, as if listening to something on the silent air that she was deaf to. “Is it not obvious, my dear?” The lantern light eyes fell distinctly on Alinora now, and the voice that came from her seemed to echo with others. Familiar echoes that chased her own as her words drifted past the seat of her own lips. “Remember them. And do it better than you have. Or I'm afraid they'll just have to come back.”

With that, the Gravekeeper lead her new skeletal friends away to a promise of new purpose, new unlife, their last living relative none the wiser.

[divomria]

"And so it is made clear to me, as it should be to us all: That magic which fuels itself by harming others, by the letting of blood, is hated by the Maker."

[adizzyninja]

Thinking over The Locked Tomb books and I love how clear it is that Thanergy, the magical death fuel for necromancy, is an inherently unsustainable energy. It’s meant to be this transitory little spark, a quick byproduct of the transition to death. Analogous to the way an actual fire burns out.

But it’s being artificially extended and induced in the entire solar system by one guy whose massive distaste for change is keeping everything held together and alive even when it totally shouldn’t be.

Just really appreciate how “necromancy as a rejection of change” is apparent in even the basic foundations of how the magic works.

[thelotusrabbit]

DpxDc #13

Infinite lives glitch

The body on the ground looked so small.

Nightwing couldn't keep his gaze away.

Maybe it was the fact that the teenager was about Damian's age, or that he kinda looked like him, but something inside him twisted.

He felt the need to see his family again, to make sure they were alright.

He lifted his eyes off of it, as he heard steps coming from behind. A young girl, dressed in a complete goth outfit, looked between him and the body on the floor.

Dick was ready to try and calm her down, to take her away from the situation. Seeing a corpse wasn't easy for him, let alone a civilian.

The girl just sighed.

"Don't freak out"

That really sounded like something he should say.

Instead, the girl just walked up to the corpse and knelt next to it, taking out chalk from her purse and starting to draw a circle on the ground.

"He always does this, don't worry. Nothing a bit of necromancy can't solve"

---------------------------------------------

Or: Danny just dies a lot, so the team just learned how to track and resurrect him

[laurasimonsdaughter]

Came back wrong this, came back monstrous that

What if they came back loving? What if they came back in love. What if the necromancy worked and you cheated death and it's everything you've ever wanted, but now they love you in a way they never did before and you cannot know if that is because they finally know the lengths you are willing to go for them, or because something in this deathless magic bound their soul to yours to guide them home and it left them no. choice.

[squirrellysketches]

Day 24: Necromancy