Also known as:
Birdie the Redeemer, Speaker of Souls, known to everyone as It who Squawks Relentlessly, Banned by over 70 Universities, Colleges, and Libraries. Usidore the Blue knows them as Birdy the Black, and Normie Wizards know them as the Dead Wizard. Unlicensed Doctors everywhere know them as Mender of Crows and Best Friend to the Feared Skeletal Minion, Poe! Pecker of Eyeballs and Devourer of Crackers and at Least One Other Necromancer knows them as Owner of the Rogue Left Hand, Count Lefty the Third, Destroyer of Books and Flipper of the Middle Finger!
Well, Poe... Looks like this is it.
Birdy laid on the ground of the deserted forest clearing, gasping for breath as they slowly died. The ritual had gone wrong. Very wrong. But that was a risk that came with the Old Magics. They were, well, old. And unreliable. Very unreliable.
How had they gotten to this point? Birdy wondered. They'd lived their entire life as a street rat moving from large city to city with a rag-tag group of travelers. Birdie traveled across the continent from town to town, stealing, doing odd jobs, and using their magical prowess to get themself in and out of trouble. Luckily for them, Birdy never stayed long enough in one place to be caught. Though, sometimes it wasn't easy to blend in as a dark elf. A dark elf with a pet crow nonetheless. Though Birdy was too carefree- and stupid- to really care much about what others thought of them.
While traveling from city to city Birdie couldn't keep themself away from the local Mage colleges. The magical aura drew Birdy like a moth to a flame. They'd always had an interest in magic and when Birdy actually applied themself they turned out to be pretty good, too! Though, unfortunately for Birdie, the other mages didn't appreciate their... zest. Birdy was dragged away by the collar every time they'd managed to sneak their way into a college. By the time Birdy and company reached Nomad, Birdie was known by name and was not allowed within ten feet of any college.
But Birdy couldn't help it! How could someone keep all that knowledge locked up in some stupid tower and not share it?! Some people in the markets just gave away books for free! Well-maybe that was stealing. But still! Most of Birdie's belongings consisted of stole-borrowed- books, tomes, tablets; anything they could get their hands on. Birdie wanted to know more.
Birdy had an affinity for the old books; the dusty, musty, books on the back of the shelf that no one would notice if it went missing. The magic that Birdie studied was.. experimental at best. Old Magics were volatile and complicated. But the challenge didn't stop Birdy; it only spurred them on. Birdy dabbled in everything, but couldn't keep themself from necromancy. A taboo, yet completely misunderstood magic in Birdy's opinion. Though, of course, people weren't the most appreciative of the sights and smells of necromancy. But that didn't detur Birdy. They just took their magic to nearby forests where they practiced in peace.
Though, some would argue that practicing old, unstable, necromancy alone and unsupervised wasn't the best idea. Birdy found that out the hard way. One ritual gone wrong later and they found themself laying on the ground, paralyzed, and coughing up thick black sludge that was slowly suffocating them. It took hours for Birdy to finally succumb to death, Poe picking at their flesh idly as they finally let out one last pathetic gargle. Though, Birdy could finally check off knowing what death felt like from their bucket list, at least.
Get up. You're still useful you pathetic thing.
The voice rang in Birdy's ears. Wait-aren't I.. Dead? There was a weight on Birdie's chest that was suddenly lifted. Blood rushed to their face as air filled their lungs and Birdie suddenly sat up. They were coughing, gasping for air as they threw up thick black sludge. And... Was that a Lung? Did I literally just couch up a lung? Wait. That's definitely a spleen. Liver. Kidney. Oop- and there goes the heart. What is that smell? Smells like something died- oh. Birdy had died. And was... risen back to life? Birdie looked around the clearing that they'd been practicing in. It was overgrown with weeds. Poe had roosted on a nearby rock where he sat in a small nest.
Birdie was the coolest person alive. Well- dead-but-brought-back-alive. Who else could say that they'd been brought back from death?!
But what goes six feet under must come back up. And the only other person who could have done that was.... Well, shit.