The Ars Falcis Spellbook


Fundamental NecromancyVampiric NecromancyEidolonic NecromancyThanatoic NecromancyTranscarnate Necromancy



This particularly lengthy segment of the Ars Falcis is dedicated to covering in detail the techniques and methods of many paths of necromancy; it is broken into five segments that will load as a single large page; please be patient. As stated before, this should not be construed as an exhaustive compendium. It is merely a guide for the seeking necromancer. These spellcrafting concepts are presented as foundations which many necromancers may appreciate both as a list of ideas and also as a record of confirmed spell techniques that may be adopted and modified as necessary to suit one's own needs. What exactly this "spellbook" is should be clarified from the outset: this is not meant to be a quick and dirty guide for people with no understanding of basic occult concepts to simply pick up and become archnecromancers in a day. It must be emphasised that this compilation will be nothing but empty words for one who does not already have a fairly firm grasp on occult concepts and also has done some exploration into the practical aspects of necromancy. This page is a partial list of ideas, techniques, necromantic subdivisions, skills, and practical study recommendations. There are no "blight mine enemies" or "call of geists" spells here, though the tools to create one are certainly present. Only wisdom can turn this knowledge into something other than inert writing.

Though these categories of necromantic progression are not necessarily an absolute gradient system for necromancers to follow, there are different types of skills involved in exploiting these different facets of necromantic spellcraft which are ordered to tentatively represent what is commonly considered a progressive menu of advancement for the disciple of decay. As such, "fundamental necromancy" has been presented first as a primer for the necromantic magus to comprehend before moving on to "vampiric necromancy", and suchlike until the final stage of "transcarnate necromancy", which is usually considered to be the ultimate achievement within this art. It is recommended that these divisions be explored in succession, though circumstances may well dictate an alternate regimen for whatever reason.

Best of luck in your necromantic studies.

Fundamental Necromancy: Some skills in the realm of necromancy are considered foundational. Without these skills the name 'necromancy' itself would lose all meaning and become another art entirely. Fundamental necromancy skills are often transferrable to the other necromantic subdivisions in much the same way that addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division are skills that are used even in the most advanced and detailed forms of mathematics. These skills will be ordered in their perceived difficulty based on a working knowledge of the learning experiences of various necromancers though it is possible that any of these can be taken in any order with equal or greater success depending on the interests and motivations of the individual. Among the first aspects of fundamental necromancy is the desire to know the condition of the soul and to sense the condition of the world beyond this simple corporeal template we foolishly call "reality". The universe as we know it, for the manifestation of patterns that it is, is also layered. Our ability to manipulate the closest layers cause effects on this level as well. The reiki healer, to assess illness, is often rumoured to not even ask what the illness one is being treated for is. They use their sensitivity to the ethereal level to diagnose where the malady is and likewise to remove the complication and to then repair the area of trouble by realigning the body so life force can once again flow. This same soul-reading technique employed by the reiki practitioners is also used as a foundational starting point for the necromancer. The most common method used to become sensitive to the condition of the soul is to attempt to read one's own state. The individual surely knows how their own body feels with regard to illness, pains, weaknesses, and even something as simple as cramps or fatigue, and can learn to correlate these associated bodily grievances with an ethereal state. Whatever method is chosen in the end, the goal is for the necromancer to become sensitive to the condition of the body and associate this decaying feeling with an intuitive equivalent usually coined "death essence" so that it can be spontaneously reproduced at any given moment. This defines one of the first things that most necromancers suggest to those wishing to delve into the art for the purpose of causing decay and remains one of the staple methods of initially learning to be sensitive to the correct ethereal energy.

Once capable of identifying this force there is always the question of how one is meant to study it since intuition is sometimes considered an inefficient way to learn magic. I do not agree with this statement, yet there is a trick that necromancers can use to accelerate their learning. The following deceit is one of the many shortcuts and cheats used by the dark arts which have earned them such a malevolent reputation but it is still an easier way to go about studying than starting from scratch: many necromancers find it expedient to pick up a chart of the various Chinese acupuncture meridians in the body and, with a bit of ingenuity, attempt to retrograde the information provided by many alternative healers until information designed for bodily restoration has been essentially corrupted to become a quick-start guide for necromancy with far less effort than mapping out the life channels of the body from the beginning. This corruption process applies not only to life meridian maps but also to any information originally designed to heal through the use of life magics or manipulation of the biological structure in any sense. Examples of such invertible information are sources such as pranayama, reiki, qi gong, acupuncture, dim mak, accupressure, breathism, kundalini, chakras, nadis, anatomy (brain, nervous system, organ systems, circulation, neurology, etc), medicine, exergy, tai chi, yoga, ayurveda, shiatsu, arhatic meditation, tantric sex, sex magic, and other occult or biological forms which enhance or investigate the body or qi/numen/prana/life force/vital essence (et cetera).

It can truly be said that the art of necromancy, more so that many other forms of occultism, is highly intuitive. Based largely on the use of the five senses, deduction, and the "sixth sense", necromancy spells of all sorts rely heavily on the lucidity of the practitioner to understand what constitutes necromantic power. Responses from spirits are often "felt" rather than seen though this is not to say that visual manifestation of apparitions is by any means unheard of. Many times responses from certain spirits are based on the sense of touch, a shift in ambient temperature, physical disturbances such as might be attributed to the poltergeist, changes in the behaviour of other nearby living things such as humans and animals, or even a sense of "tension" in the air to denote that the necromancer's ethereal cries have been heeded by the dead. Travel through the netherworld is also largely an intuitive process which relies on sustained and correct interpretation of the impulses the nether will give. Related to netherworld travel is also the basic necromantic skill of contacting the realm of the dead where they are. This realm is traditionally assumed to have two locations: the first is either literally under the earth and the second view is that it is simply a layer of this world. In most necromantic forms the former theory is favoured stating that the realm of the human dead (leaving open the possibility for other similar realms) is restricted to the approximate boundaries of earth. The usual exercises performed by a necromancer to attempt to attain a sensitivity to the dead are such seemingly morbid activities as visiting graveyards, funerals, places of mourning, or places associated in some way with spectral haunting or decay. Within this realm it is assumed these places are often the residence of the recently dead before they pass on to the netherworld. In some rare instances they are thought to linger on earth to become what we would call a ghost. With these notions about the activities of the spirit post mortem the necromancer attempts to become familiar with the power of death by coming into contact with it at the most likely physical junctures. Many report feeling "something different" in such places. That very feeling of ethereal tension or otherworldly power is what the necromancer attempts to touch so as to be able to remember its feeling and spontaneously be able to identify it again in any given location. Once identified by this manner, the power of the dead can be called upon through practice in manipulating one's own soul and of detecting the presence of wandering spirits. Moreover, spirits aside, identifying and being familiar with this power allows one to directly manipulate it since the soul of the living necromancer is theoretically every bit as capable as the soul of the disembodied.

To achieve this state of disembodiment while still in the realm of the living, the concept of soul must be remembered. We are not bound to flesh and bone. We exist as something beyond the physical (though not necessarily as something greater, which would be a debate for religionists rather than necromancers).

In this sense it can be considered a fair assumption to state that necromancy is a developed skill rather than a static and lifeless series of ritualistic incantations (forgive the pun). The mechanics of different necromantic skills, once isolated and identified, are often cut cleanly into instructions or concise notes which are still referred to as "spells" though this should never be taken to necessarily denote that this means that there is any universal formula which can be used between practitioners or given to the unlearned as a metaphysical manipulation sequence. What would probably be the most fair definition for the nature of written necromantic spells is any given set of instructions designed by the individual for personal use in recreating a certain effect, much more like an ideological or symbolic set of instructions prepared as a personal reminder of methods successfully used in the past rather than rote commandments. Also, the inscription of precise and accurate spells is usually given more weight in necromancy than in other arts simply due to the nature of the spells in general. They are often aimed at unravelling the health or well-being of another living creature, which can be a prohibitive factor if one is in the habit of having to refine spells constantly through recasting. Obviously, there is a point at which the quantity and quality of available targets will start to wear thin if every necromancer were to treat the world as their own personal laboratory. For this reason it is far more common in necromancy to spend copious amounts of time pondering the mechanics of a spell, the effects, the effort required, the method to be used to induce a given effect, and other related factors than it would be in many other arts. The wiccan tradition is a fine example of the antithesis of necromantic study in this case. The wiccan "spells" that one might find floating around on the internet or in even more authoritative wiccan texts, such as the consistently unscrupulous Llewellyn texts available, are often nothing more than a spoken slapdash haiku to the Lord and Lady which could be generated by any youngster in a matter of minutes. Conversely, the necromancer does not necessarily have a patron deity to cry out to (though some often adopt one nonetheless) and relies instead on personal skill to produce precisely the effect they want. This desired effect is sometimes given into the care of a spirit, which carries the same risks of misinterpretation and clashing agendas as any other summoning or deity interaction might, and sometimes the necromancer takes care of a matter personally to ensure there are no mistakes. There is no stone-etched rule concerning preference and each practitioner tends to either balance the two options or picks one exclusively.

As far as spells which one might consider "fundamental" to necromancy, there are a few which cross semantic boundaries absolutely. As mentioned earlier, the skill of sensing the ethereal level is a basic skill for necromancers to hone. Without some kind of knowledge about the state of the world of the dead or being able to manipulate it there is no death magic. The names for this skill vary, yet it can be generally assumed that speaking of "Awareness" in the necromantic sense will not be an alien thing among practitioners. This same concept has been adopted by a great many occult groups and takes form in the name "enlightened", "awakened", "illuminated" and arguably the phrase "having second-sight" can also denote this principle in action under other systems. Some codify this into a proper spell, yet many would rather leave the mechanics of such a fundamental ability as a matter of heuristics rather than forthright explication. This awareness of death also gives rise to the direct attraction of attempting to manipulate that which we know of as the death essence. Exploring the realm of the dead and borrowing from its power through personal interaction is one of the boons associated with every form of necromancy that exists. The awareness of death in the metaphysical sense leads directly to other skills which are necessary for the proper development of necromancy. Among these is sensitivity to the presence of disembodied spirits, the condition of spirits still tied to the body which reside in the living flesh, the ability to detect thanatoic power or related netherworld entities, and the ability as an adept to detect even another necromancy spell as it is being cast. Of course though, as the popular infomercial caveat states, "individual results may vary."

The necromantic trance state is brought about by the quieting of one's body and mind to allow for uninterrupted interface with the movements of the death essence. To begin this process is not difficult but to perfect it is deemed a great feat. Quieting one's mind, for the necromancer's purpose, usually begins by also silencing the impulses of the body. Allow the mind to forget about the body and the normal mind-chatter that goes on in any regular circumstance. Many necromancers begin their training in this meditative state by lying down in a comfortable position to allow for total relaxation without having to retain positions or focus in any way on the needs of the body. For obvious reasons, it is not wise to attempt this as a pre-sleep ritual since, more often than not, sleep will overtake the weary mind before catharsis does. The body is a mechanical construction capable of caring for itself for limited spans of time. The purpose of these exercises is to free the mind and prime it for conditions favourable for magic. The body can be ignored. Many necromancers use a visualisation process, which I personally do not endorse, to imagine the limbs becoming numb. Imagination aside, prolonged and focused attempts to allow the body to lay perfectly lifeless will result in the slowing of the heart, self-induced lethargy of the limbs, and eventually this lifelessness will spread to the rest of the body. The goal is total relaxation while retaining one's mental clarity. The body, through this process, will eventually leave the limbs in a numb state to fully rest. At this point, the extremities become meaningless. After a bit of time the limbs will feel not only relaxed, but genuinely dead as though the hands of a thousand souls were grasping them and squeezing the life from them. At this point, concentration can now be moved from the entirety of the body to only the head, torso, and midrift. Using a similar process of lifeless relaxation, allow the midrift and groin to also be overcome with thanatoic paralysis. This is a natural preparation the body uses when shutting down for sleep, yet if one is inducing it artificially the mind does not necessary lay to rest as well. The mechanical benefit of this method is that the body is made quiet, piece by piece, until it is no longer a burden. The mind, which is to be understood as an expression of the soul for necromantic purposes (as opposed to the brain which is merely a carnal interface), and thus capable of moving and sensing with the death essences. Crudely put, this exercise is a simple discipline of self-control and training of the body for cases where it may have otherwise been a distraction. In addition to simply being able to consciously allow the body go numb through perfect rest, which is a step in the right direction by its own merit, there is the much more difficult control method to lower the pulse and rate of breathing which is similar to pranayama yoga. The body does not need as much oxygen as we breath in if is truly at rest. It can be forced to rest by forcing the body to slow down the rate of breathing. Unlike simple practices in holding one's breath however the purpose is to overcome the feeling of panic that the body will go through while not having enough air. Breathing out, rather than holding air in, is the key to effectively lowering the senses; it is, of course, absolutely essential that at least minimal vital signs remain. Controlling one's own breath, which is easily done consciously, can allow the strong-willed to reduce the interferences the mortal body will present and allow the mind to do as it pleases. The slow and persistent attempt to fight the panic urge and allow the body to succumb to thanatoic paralysis will most definitely allow the practitioner to have a foretaste of the mind set required to perform the most powerful of necromantic magics by allowing clarity that few ever achieve; this is our necromantic gnosis.

If performed properly with the correct goals being achieved at successive steps of progress, the thanatoic trance will eventually become an irrelevant practice which can be discarded in favour of intuitively sensing changing in the matrices of death which surround us. For the sake of having a checklist of things to study before moving on from practices of fundamental necromancy, this score has been compiled to set landmarks for the aspiring necromancer. This checklist will be made for every Falcian discipline to aid the practitioner. Please note that it is very likely that these skills will never be perfected to air-tight accuracy. They are only general indicators:

  1. Transcendental Meditation -- Intuitively, do you 'know' what death essence feels like? Not simply a bodily reaction or imagined sensation, but are you attuned to the movements of the power of death on command?
  2. Thanatoic Sensitivity -- Do you have the ability to 'know' when death is nearby? Does a sick person intuitively seems any different than a healthy one? There should be a difference, but, once again, it is not the product of an over-active imagination.
  3. Information Corruption -- Is information that has been adapted from life arts still coherent for necromantic purposes? Is the information still useful once corrupted?
  4. Eidolonic Sensitivity -- Can you sense the presence of intelligences of the netherworld? Spirits of the dead and netherworld geists of all kinds traverse this world as well. Have you trained necromantic intuition to the point that these things can be felt spontaneously?
  5. Vampiric Sensitivity -- Do you positively sense a strong correlation between the condition of the ethereal body and the material body? Does a change in the condition of the soul of someone nearby set your necromantic abilities ablaze?
  6. Lichform Sensitivity -- Can you affect your own health or sense changes in your own health status without relying on physical signs? Are you "in touch" with the ethereal movements around you?

If the answer to any of these questions is "no", it is tentatively advised that, in the best interest of the practitioner, one should not proceed until the answer changes to a confident "yes". The list is likely most easily mastered in the order it is presented. Also, there should be a very noticeable trend in that list: sensitivity. The single most important thing to be able to do when starting to develop necromantic skills is undoubtedly to comprehend what is happening. Just as one always learns how to read before writing, so the necromancer necessarily must know how to comprehend before making changes. Certainty of one's skill is achieved by sensitivity training of various flavours which the necromancer necessarily must self-style to gain the greatest degree of accuracy in predictions and communications with the netherworld.

Generally speaking, one foundationally secure in fundamental necromancy should be able to display most of the stereotypical characteristics ascribed to necromancy. It is the ability to communicate with the realm of the dead in such a way as to not lose focus or neglect that which most would consider incidental. Often manifesting as the art of mediumism, sensing omens of death in others, and feeling the onset of spells or other works of magic that in any way manipulate the life force. Indeed, many do not stray far from simply refining fundamental necromantic abilities and are quite content to develop their sensitivities rather than continue on a dubious and reportedly arduous journey into other branches. The choice, as always, is the practitioner's; the practice is best molded to one's needs rather than making personal adjustments to suit the art; it works for you, not vice versa.

Vampiric Necromancy: Vampiric spells within the necromantic tradition are focused on the nature of life exchange. The vampiric necromancer aims at understanding the mechanics of the soul which might allow them to 'consume' the power of another through lecherous use of their infernal powers. As denoted by the use of the term "vampiric necromancer", many use this variety of necromantic spell as a subdivision specialty in its own right in the same way as other branches of necromancy are used. Vampiric necromancy focuses, as other forms, on the exchanges of the soul with the realm of the dead yet the peculiar aspect of vampiric necromancy is that it is designed as a means for the necromancer to use their own power to sway others and to leech from them. This sentiment is seen even in the modern occult term "psychic vampire" which implies that certain individuals exist which consciously or subconsciously "feed" from the psychic emanations of others. The term "vampiric" itself only symbolises a parasitic relationship between caster and host. Instead of psychic emanations being the target, necromantic vampirism concerns itself with the relation between death and the potential for life exchange between living beings. The views on how this is achieved vary greatly. In some cases the language used to describe the sapping of life from victim to necromancer resembles that which would be used to describe fluid exchanges. The soul, in some cases, is loosely treated as a thing which exists almost as a form of meta-matter on another level which somehow interacts with and sustains the physical body on this level. Using more specific terminology, "life force" is discussed using much of the same language that energy physics might use and treats the soul as a phenomenon rather than a thing with mass, though this is occasionally not the best language set to use. Generally speaking however, this tends to be the favoured language set used to discuss life exchange to avoid confusions which arise due to the nature of causality.

It is very important to note a few things before truly beginning to discuss the nature of vampiric necromancy. The term "vampiric" is sorely abused in modern meta-occult jargon and has come to connote everything from full-blown actual mythological Bram Stoker vampires, "real" vampire cults (...), psychic leeching, and almost any other act which robs any thing from any source without replacing it or to the detriment of the source. The term "vampiric necromancy" is not one which ever necromancer will use though most will understand what is being referred to even if they are not studied in the subject. For this reason alone the term 'vampiric necromancy' will be used. As mentioned however, it carries an enormous amount of philosophical baggage which should not be inferred but undoubtedly will be by those who become easily stalled by semantics. "Vampiric Necromancy" does not refer to any of the following: vampires a la Bram Stoker, blood-drinking humans who call themselves "vampirists", the so-called "sanguinarian vampires" "psychic vampires" as mentioned in the Satanic Bible (or elsewhere), blood-play enthusiast gothics who gather in vampire clubs on weekends (or any other day), or any of the "clip-on fangs" groupies, and magicians whose rites include blood consumption or christening. No specific social group is to be considered the source of this information. They tend to believe there is something intrinsically biologically or metaphysically different about themselves or that they are demons in human bodies and thus veer into wild, exotic, irresponsible forms of spiritual ultraterrestriogensis. One may draw their own conclusions about the validity of any of the groups which call themselves vampiric yet vampiric necromancy uses the term only for the ideological reference, not to imply in any way that there are "real" vampires walking this world or that blood or psychism plays any role in vampiric necromancy. It is indeed a shame to see how the presence of the word "vampiric" tends to carry so many negative and childish connotations yet it must be acknowledged that they do exist. The internet being what it is, the fact must be reiterated that there is no reason at all to believe that vampiric necromancy as portrayed here has anything to do with mythological vampires or vampirism nor that it is in any way connected to the "vampire" subcultures that have developed, both mystical and mundane.

Vampiric necromancy concerns itself with affecting the matrix of soul that usually coincides with the material body. The precise nature of this connection is not known though its malleability has been well established by the practice of siphoning life between individuals through the use of vampiric necromancy. Even in ancient Native American traditions there arose the idea of the "wendigo", which was a demon-like spirit which possesses the body of a warrior who eats the flesh of his fallen foes. By consuming the flesh, as the theory states, one is said to gain the strengths of their defeated adversary while also slipping more deeply into the grasp of the possessing bloodthirsty spirit. And, of course, the Levitical laws and Slavic vampire myths only contribute to the notion that life is a transferrable quality. Notwithstanding that it is unadvisable to consume the flesh of other humans, nor that vampiric necromancy does not require this, the point remains that soul transfer has been a subject of interest in many mystic cultures. The theory as it stands tends to be somewhat similar to the idea of touching a strong magnet to a weak magnet. The weak one invariably realigns with the strong one and vice versa such that there is an equilibrium found between the two strengths of magnet. In much the same way, on a metaphorical level, the operations of vampiric necromancy attempt to create a synergy between two souls which will result in a siphon from the weakness of the caster and the strength of the target. Vampiric necromancy is also the gate through which a pseudo-restorative form of necromancy can be utilised.

Though sometimes the necromancer prefers to retain a lich state, such as might be necessary for some feats of eidolonic necromancy (discussed later) and for all feats of transcarnate necromancy (also discussed later), there are opportune times for the necromancer to make use of the ability to synergise with the life force of another which makes itself most readily apparent when considering the art of vampiric necromancy. Unfortunately, the details of this practice are often marred beyond recognition and subsequently tossed about carelessly by vampire groupies. For the necromancer however, there is a degree of clarity regarding such an operation that mystifies the majority. Vampiric necromancy's power hinges on the idea that the soul and body are correlated entities and that one can not avoid affecting the other any time there is change. Arguably, both are in a state of perpetual change which must be monitored and controlled to avoid losing control over one's necromantic body.

To start, one must understand the nature of vampiric operations and then attempt to manipulate these circumstantial variables such that they are working in favour of sustaining the practitioner rather than utterly draining them as most necromantic forms, and indeed as any type of magic is known to do. Mages of all types very frequently report the drain that sustained practice will produce on the psyche; it is this effect that the vampiric necromancer seeks to avoid, to a greater extent, and, to a lesser degree, also wishes to impose upon another in their stead. The vampiric rites begin by creating an established and personally verifiable link between the practitioner and another life-bearing target. Sensing the condition of both souls is vital, but should be a skill the necromancer already has a firm ability to perform. Part yourself from the body, as an initial step. The body is merely a material shell that is mostly capable of caring for itself, in the greater sense, while the soul of the vampiric necromancer seeks to parasitically borrow from the essence of another. To do this requires liberty of the soul to work in accordance with the body in a lesser lich state which allows the practitioner to correlate the condition of the soul with the condition of the body. This is achieved by a waking necromantic trance, which should already be understood in theory before being attempted. The crux of the matter is that the human necromancer is indeed a living and breathing creature which is full of life and that, by touching death through necromancy, the likelihood of coming away from the experiences unscathed is remote. The solution which vampiric necromancy presents is to feed from the soul of another. This is often considered sinister, unscrupulous, evil, or all of the above by many different types of magician, leading to a somewhat less than admirable reputation for vampiric necromancers. Nonetheless, some choose to practice this art. The soul is considered a matrix which rests as the ethereal mirror of the body but which is most obviously not comprised of the same materials as the corporeal frame. Like the corporeal body though, the ethereal body (being the soul) has properties reminiscent of the material body; to bring this idea to a point, the vampiric exchange of life energy is similar to the concept of a blood transfusion.

The soul is a particularly well-congealed formation which will not readily break apart without prompting from outside forces of one sort or another, which does complicate matters to a certain extent for one inclined to leech life from a target. The problem this presents is that the necromancer can not simply approach a target and start sapping vitality from anyone they please in an instant. The soul must be worn down by a disjunction process which is initiated by the practitioner upon the target and which does not relent until the target's soul has been worn down to the point of losing a fair degree of its initial integrity. Somewhat like breaking an egg, the soul will retain its form (more or less) unless it is tampered with. The goal of the vampiric necromancer is to abrade the target's soul until it becomes malleable. Upon completing this softening process, which may manifest as any of a wide variety of different forms of unrest in the one who has been violated in this manner, the soul is then ready to be harvested. Finding voids in one's own soul and then attempting to induce a waking necromantic trance state, separate the soul from your own body and attempt to overlay it with the target. As the theory goes, the absorption of the life force of the target temporarily weakens the necromancer due to the effort of partially separating body and soul, yet when the separated portion of the caster's soul returns from its assault on the softened and partially damaged soul of the target, its condition is generally better than it was before being separated.

Of course, the most damning factor of using vampiric necromancy of this particular sort is that its successful application depends entirely on the ability to first correctly assess the condition of the target soul. If the condition of the targeted soul was in worse shape than the condition of the practitioners soul, the spell will effectively reverse its intended purpose and cause harm to the necromancer. Assumably, this is not the reason one would practice this particular strain of necromancy and great care should be taken to avoid this kind of backfire effect at all costs. Only a correct assessment of the soul of one who is in a better condition than the necromancer and performing the rest of the spell properly can ensure that it benefits the one who has gone through the trouble of casting a vampiric spell in the first place. In general, one can begin simply by a physical comparison between one's self and the target. The soul and the body are not unrelated systems. As such, simply observing the condition of a corporeal body gives at least some vague and utterly shallow idea of what the condition of the soul might be. This is not, as inferred, a very reliable measure, but it is a precursory examination method nonetheless. The true strength of discernment lies in the ability to sense the condition of a soul by taking note of the image they cast in the nether realm. Is their shade a vibrant one or is it weak? Practice in honing one's sensitivity to the death is the only way to perfect the art of soul analysis.

Ethereal parasitism is hardly the only skill the realm of vampiric necromancy utilizes, however. Another of the most noteworthy skills that will be discussed more briefly is the allure of vampiric ensnarement. Shortly put, ensnarement is the ability to overlay the soul of the necromancer with the soul of the target for the purpose of attempting to influence their actions and thoughts. Mobility of the soul is a skill one usually learns early in their practices as a necromancer even while attempting to become sensitive to the powers of death. The soul is not entirely bound to the material body and can be largely separated from the corporeal shell to travel freely in the realm of the dead. The soul is the most essential consciousness which naturally resides in an ethereal state adjacent to the level of death. When it is allowed to traverse (do not mistake the use of the third-person "it" to imply that the usage of "your mind/soul" would be any less appropriate) the body remains at rest if there is not enough consciousness to coordinate it. For the purpose of vampiric ensnarement though, a total severance of the soul from the body is not necessary or advised. Instead, the use of a partial waking detachment which may result in the same distant feeling as remote viewing, astral viewing, bilocation, or other similar tricks might induce. Likewise, as many telepaths, empaths, or diviners might suggest, there can be strong impulses to obey the one who has been connected to rather than to have them obey you. Remembering that the one being affected has the advantage, since they are the ones with whole and concentrated souls during these spells, and it is the caster who is reaching to affect them. Skill can overcome this obstacle where force will not, but it will take time and effort. When speaking of vampiric necromancy to other necromancers, this is often referred to as "casting your shade" at the target to overlay their own and thus vicariously control them if you have the concentration and will to do so.

As a side note on the application of vampiric necromancy, there are also variants which take a more sensual approach in application and attempt to exploit the vital essence put in motion through sexual union. The same techniques previously mentioned still apply, but the vampiric necromancer attempts to exploit the claimed vulnerability of a target soul while aroused, throughout copulation, and during the deceleration period afterwards.

It is probably fair to note that the ability to overlay and interact between two souls is the defining ability of vampiric necromancy. This particular branch of study -- examining the potential exchanges between souls -- is what classifies a spell as "vampiric" or not. There is a certain amount of debate over this topic but, for the purposes of this text, this definition is inclusive enough to be functional.

  1. Assessment -- Is the ability to discern the condition of a soul as being in better or worse condition than your own an established skill? Are the results after attempting a drain consistent with the assessments made beforehand?
  2. Vampiric Transfer -- Do attempts to affect the soul of another through manipulation of the powers of death yield results? Are results that are achieved consistent with predictions made based on the condition of the soul prior to intervention?
  3. Emulsification -- Is the abradement of the soul of a target a familiar matter? Can this skill be routinely performed with a reasonably high success rate? Not all souls will succumb to such assault, but the results on the target should manifest on the corporeal level within a day of a successful attempt.
  4. Ethereal Overlap -- Are you capable of controlling your own soul's movements to the point that separating it from the body while still moving around reasonably normally (if not totally so) is possible?
  5. Vampiric Siphoning -- Are the shards retrieved from the target soul properly integrated by the time you have reconstituted your own soul? When performing this parasitic act, can concentration be maintained until the entire operation is completed?
  6. Ensnarement -- Is the overlaying of one soul upon another a manageable task? Is the initial confusion of not only separating your own soul, but of also synergising it with a foreign soul suppressible?

Vampiric necromancy is obviously not without its own form of drawbacks. There is the constant danger that one has misread their target and has inadvertently been damaged. Moreover, ensnarements run the risk of causing confusion or bewilderment in the caster, which is never favourable during the actual performance of a spell. In general, it is safe to say that this particular branch of necromancy is the most seldom used or refined due to the dubious rewards of practice and the potential complications that can and do arise from misuse or failed attempts. Sought by few, and mastered by fewer still, vampiric necromancy is an elusive facet of soul manipulation.

Eidolonic Necromancy: The name "eidolonic Necromancy" comes from the use of the Greek word "eidolon", which is an apparition of the netherworld, both in necro-demonic or spiritual form. The term "eidolon" is even tossed about in various occult circles to mean any kind of spiritual form at all. For our purposes here however, the term "eidolon" will be taken to mean any form of necromantic creation or servant geist which also goes by the name "undead" or "ghost". The study of the necromantic undeads and eidolons is undoubtedly considered one of the most surreal aspects of this art. Real information on this fantastic facet is usually scarce, to say the least. Deep within the recesses of lore and mythology lies an answer for the astute practitioner which may allow interactions with those recently departed spirits or, more commonly, to arrange the conditions necessary for the dead to appear to have returned, in one form or another.

As a preface to the practice of spirit interactions, which have been the traditional utilitarian core of the practice of necromancy, it is most likely a wise diversion to examine a few tenets of eidolonic necromancy which must be understood before attempting to delve into this particular facet of the necromantic traditions. The first of the caveats held both by ancient and modern necromancers is that the fact that one is dead does not make them any smarter. One's soul does not instantly gain the Seer's knowledge simply by virtue of being dead. The process of dying is often seen rather as a reduction in the potential knowledge that a soul once had due to the shock which the inexperienced would receive of being instantly thrown into discarnation. Having such a radical shift in surrounding and reality is quite likely a disorienting and potentially damaging experience for the dead. Our own earthly comfort is taken for granted as the standard fare across all levels of reality, though this should not be the case. Consider the spirits potentially damaged; as lesser forms of what they were, their knowledge, and especially coherence, will only decrease if they are unable to cope with the total transition from life to death. The term "shade of the dead" can be taken figuratively as well as metaphorically, in this sense, to connote that the dead are merely a shard of their formerly glorious bodily form because most were unable to handle the transition from life to death. Also, the realm of the dead is generally not considered a particularly friendly place for the soul to set itself at rest, though it is not known to be exceptionally hostile either, with the exception of religious myths concerning hell or similar realms. As was inferred earlier, the transition from life to death can often result in the loss of information, memory, and many key personality traits that made a person what we might recognize them as while they were still embodied. This is the effect the Gnostics described as "drinking from Eridanus". In essence, it is the loss of memory and personality due to the shock of the transition to death or of adapting to life in the realm of the dead itself. Yet another consideration for those interested in dealing with spirits is the potential utility (or lack thereof) for information exchange. Many complications arise when attempting to use spirits as a source of knowledge.

The first of these complications is the problem of transferring of knowledge itself. A spirit will be unable to vocalise their intentions or desires. As such, the onus is on the practitioner to be sensitive enough to the intuitive impulses of the realm of the dead to accurately receive and convey desires in a quasi-empathic manner. Also, in the role of interrogator, the necromancer must learn to "ask" the correct questions if they are to receive meaningful answers. Interpreting non sequitur statements is very difficult in such a situation where the five primary senses are not applicable. The second complication which may arise when using spirits is determining how to use their knowledge. Unfortunately, far too many would-be necromancers assume that death, for some reason, makes a spirit profoundly knowledgeable and able to see the future with some kind of clarity not afforded to the living. There is no reason to believe that the dead have any more knowledge about life after their death than they had before their death, however, and, as such, one should not assume that spirits are to be called for the purpose of foretelling the future. Their primary purpose, now and always, has been to discern the nature of their experiences past and nothing more, which is the nature of the third stumbling block concerning the retrieval of a spirit from the netherworld. Necromancy as a divination form allows the spirits of the dead to once again commune with the caster, but there is no reason to suppose that they have special knowledge of the future or of lives they have not been involved with. In this sense, shades of the dead are dimmed and stagnant mirrors of their former glory which will have likely faded greatly. Such trivialities as the spirit's favourite colour, birthday, or their age at the time of death are very likely to have been lost in the torrential transition from one reality to the next. This is not true in absolutely every case, but many of the minute details of a life are often lost forever upon the death. Or, more correctly, it appears that these details have been lost to the best knowledge of those who have had extensive experience in such matters. There may in theory be a way to retrieve such details with pinpoint accuracy, but if such a method does exist it is not yet known to modern necromancers. As we see in many of the historical legends and fables connected with ghosts, the lesser details have unequivocally been ignored in favour of speaking of those things which were important at the time of the spirit's death. This particular notion is mirrored most poignantly in the necromancer's traditional role as a psychopomp to lay to rest souls which were disturbed at the time of their death. The general dilemma was extricated from unsettled spirits, the difficulty was resolved by the necromancer, the spirit was informed, and it was once again at peace to pass beyond the veil.

These are simply practical considerations when attempting to speak with the dead. Not every spirit is available at every moment, and not all of them are coherent, even if available. Furthermore, there is no indication that the dead know of the future, that they remember all of the past, or that their memory of even the past events they participated in is infallible. In short, it can simply be said that, dead or alive, humans are humans.

Keeping in mind the types of "zombies" that concern those interested in necromancy, the most curious aspect of necromantic practice emerges. Not only are these different types of servitor of vastly different origins, but all have unique methods of being made manifest on the material plane. In the case of ghosts, for example, the necromancer's most common role in the ancient world was that of a psychopomp. Being able to communicate with those creatures and intelligences which reside on the realm of the dead gave the necromancer a unique position in the spectrum of mystic proficiencies which made (and makes) this art the ideal discipline for ridding spirits of their unrest by communicating with them to resolve the issues of their unrest. Conversely, the necromancer's ability to commune with geists also made the art of necromancy ideal for those wishing to roust geists from their rest to perform last tasks for the geist's interests or for the sake of the necromancer. The question then remains, "how does one begin communication between spirits?" Traditional and contemporary practices diverge, at this point, into a variety of methods depending on the aims of the necromancer.

The first and most simple form of communication with the spirits of the dead or with other spirits from the realm of the dead (the necrodaemons) bases itself out of the theories behind the fundamental skill of inducing the necromantic trance state; dreaming, interestingly enough, is one of the most commonly used methods by necromancers in ancient Greek and Rome and also by the contemporary necromancer to received visions from the realm of the dead. It was said that sleeping relaxes the body and mind to the point that there is enough of a common level with the dead to hear their calls. Sleep is a time of renewal for the body, but to achieve this renewal it has to release the tensions of the day and becomes somewhat corpse-like in appearance and function to revive, which is a prime state for necromantic interaction. The state of perfect corporeal quietness which sleep induces allows the mind to become unfettered by the clamour of the body and brain, which is the initial state considered useful for the necromancer to start to work with if using dreams as a preparation for interface with the dead. In terms of interesting research items for those studying the methods of eidolonic necromancy, lucid dreaming tends to be a favoured topic. The point of lucid dreaming is to take control of one's dreams and move freely through them, which allows for interface with the visions observed. As such, it is considered a useful skill, at times. Regardless of whether a dream is lucid or not though, the general tenet is that one who is in a deep slumber will be able to take advantage of their physical state by allowing the mind to take centre focus. Others have opted for more proactive measures to deal with eidolonic interfaces, however.

The second method typically used to communicate with the dead is overt summoning. Methods of performing this have varied enormously throughout the ages. In some instances, it is literally thought that to simply give a verbal call for the spirit is sufficient to establish communication with it. And then, of course, there is the other end of the spectrum of complexity which would have a necromancer drawing circles, making sacrifices, and using swords to tame a spirit into apparition. The preparations and rites used to call a spirit from their abode can not be fully accounted for, yet it should be emphasised that there has been a plethora of methods used to call forth spirits; all of which are "traditional". The Greeks tended to favour visitation of sites of death to recall those that perished at such places (often offering blood sacrifices as a coaxing method) or to simulate death through sleep or trance. In medieval necromantic variants, which were very heavily tainted by Christianity, there is an unfortunate reversion to the sword and circle methods which would seek to confine spirits by virtue of the "inherent power" of names of god and the divinity of numbers and shapes. The fact remains that they were used though, and had limited success.

The most common method used to entice a spirit is to attempt to call for them in a spiritual sense. Rather than laying offerings, which may be missed, or relying on dreams, which may not occur, the necromancer's most common method of retrieving a spirit from the realm of the dead is to call for them on the thanatoic level. Through this action we see the particularly strong emphasis that necromancy places on the use of the sixth sense and the intuitive nature of magical impulses rather than reliance on the five senses or variants thereof as a form of feedback. Spirits are not usually "seen", in the physical or metaphysical sense, but are rather understood to be there; felt, as a unique urge or subliminal impulse, to be present and responding to the cries of those that would wish to speak with them. Upon the arrival of a spirit, very often there are physical manifestations that paranormal investigators would use to detect the presence of a ghost, such as a sharp change in temperature, the sensation of being touched, of being watched, hearing something, or perhaps a full visual manifestation. Once again, a common communication medium, such as the necromantic trance state, is by far preferable. To utter a name is one method, but the more common one is to intuitively emanate the essence of the spirit. When speaking to people normally, even those with no magical inclinations at all acknowledge that there is a certain unique ambience about each person one encounters and interacts with that is not . To mentally reconstruct this ambience as a call sign for the spirit in question assures that there is no confusion.

The last and most radical of methods used to communicate with the spiritual realm is bodily possession. In this act of ultimate harmony between the spirit and the necromancer, the necromancer sacrifices their own body as a medium for communication by allowing the spirit to vampirically overlay itself with the necromancer and channel directly through the new host body. Most necromancers report the inability to fully recall what transpired while they were possessed by a spirit, and thus they first ask the spirit to write down what needs to be said for later review. Alternatively, if the possession is being performed for another, the necromancer's own body is used as a vessel to speak the required message. The general idea behind voluntary possession is that the necromancer clears their mind with the intention of creating a viable puppet of their own body for the inhabiting spirit and simply summons them until the binding tie between souls is so great that they act as one.

Eidolonic necromancy also carries the connotation of being able to create geists though. There are many forms of "zombie" mentioned throughout the history of necromancy. The idea of physical reanimation of the dead itself has only died out within the last one hundred years or so, which has significantly impacted the philosophy of the necromancer. In general, the resurrections which make necromancy so famous are either the summoning of a geist, as has been discussed, and the creation of an immaterial egregore or artificial servitor. The basis for the emergence and survival of this idea has been the tendency in occultism to speak of thought-forms. Essentially, the servitor is considered a hallucination which is induced by the artful use of psychological trickery, spellcraft, and exploitation of fears. The combination of these three elements allows the necromancer to take advantage of the common terrors of humanity and use them to hir own ends.

What defines a "common terror" though? The answer to this is a simple evolutionary bit of deductive logic: we fear pain and the unknown. Experiments and tortures involving sensory deprivation show quite clearly that humans are biologically reliant on the ability to comprehend our surroundings. As for the unknown -- this is the very core of the human fear of death and darkness. It is ingrained in us at the evolutionary level to desire self-preservation, through nerves and through hunger. Our psychological fears include heights, loud noises, and that which is not understood. These are simple biological mechanisms which have helped the human race survive as long as it has in an adverse environment. These fears can also be exploited.

In short, it can be said that eidolonic necromancy is the subset ability within the discipline of necromancy in general to interact with spirits and potentially even to create forms which elicit specific synesthetic responses from a target to emulate the perception of the living dead. The focus, in this case, is on the ability to fluently communicate in an ideological or empathic sense with those things that are essentially beyond the use of the five material senses. This fact makes that communication a difficult concept to grasp for the majority, yet it has been in the practical repertoire of necromancers for millennia.

  1. Lucid Dreaming -- If you have chosen to use this method of interaction, have you had enough success in controlling the nature of your dreamscape? Does the lucid dreaming method render visions which are meaningful or are they simply dreams?
  2. Interpretation -- Are the impulses received from those denizens of the realm of the dead apparent and intelligible correspondences? Are these messages characteristic of the spirit in question?
  3. Communication -- When you communicate with a spiritual embodiment, is it clear that you are being understood by them? Are you capable of giving impulses and thoughts which are coherent to those of the netherworld?
  4. Possession -- If you have chosen to use this method of interaction, do you have enough skill at summoning spirits to continue to do so until one resides in you? Is your concentration sufficient to undertake this task?

The eidolonic path is the most technical of the necromantic disciplines due to the nature of the information being presented to a practitioner. Not only are impulses to be grossly manipulated, but also to be refined in such a way that one is to discern meaningful communication from it. This is by far the most popular form of necromancy, but also one that often goes unappreciated simply for the fact that there is a necessary interaction with the realm of the dead and the spirits thereof. If one can overcome the fear of death, the effects of death likewise become essentially trivial and great rewards can be earned through the application of the powers of eidolonic necromancy.

Thanatoic Necromancy: Within the subdivision of thanatoic necromancy is found the more famous aspects of necromancy which include death hexes and spells to induce frailties and illnesses of all sorts. It should be noted that the capacity for destruction is most often less than forthright death. Thanatoic necromancy is a study of the interactions which draw one closer to death and focuses on the knowledge to replicate this effect. Though this particular facet of necromancy is quite often seen as a quick ethereal outlet for the would-be teen hexcrafter to maliciously rain mystic angst upon his or her foes, the more subtle reflections of this art provide a way for the wise necromancer to use their necromantic prognostic powers to bring swift balance rather than to cause mayhem. This respect for balance is the reason that necromancy was not outlawed in ancient Greece and Rome. Rather than becoming a bane to society, the necromancers understood that all things, including life and death, exist in a certain balance that should never be disrupted to either extreme lest a situation spirals wildly out of control and into a state of chaos before being able to recover (yet this disruptive domino effect can have its own uses in the right circumstances). The necromancer has always been considered an arcane foreigner, and sometimes as a harbinger of sorrow, but not necessarily a destructive plague on society. The internal checks and balances of the system, so to speak, have traditionally kept the practitioner from being overly destructive. The system which prevents necromantic power lording is the reactivity of necromancy to the mentality of the practitioner. It is not so much inherently destructive as much as it is a balanced and inherently reactive system which degrades the degrader and leaves relatively untarnished the dabbler. This must be considered to be the case over a greater span of time however, since we can quickly see from any number of tales about the use of necromantic power that the reactivity of the art over the long term is less a problem (though certainly not a non-issue) for the cautious users although the short-term effects blanketly touch all who would intimately utilize the powers of death.

For those interested in creating effects which permeate both body and soul, necromancy does have its own brand of benefits available for the vindicative practitioner. As seen by the ancient necromantic tradition of hex tablets, the sallowing of practitioners ancient and modern, and the modern effects attributed to necromancy by practitioners including physical ailment and spectral visions, necromancy is not entirely a benign art if one chooses to explore certain aspects of it which are certainly equipped to influence this level of reality. Necromancy has a history not separated from the induction of baneful effects and, as such, has acquired a rather insidious reputation for the casting of malignant hexes and curses of maleficence. Notwithstanding public opinion, many choose to continue this fine tradition with hopes of passing the body and soul of their enemies through the fires of hades itself.

So how does one "hex" another? It is a legitimate and logical question which, unfortunately, necessarily precipitates an elaborate and complicated answer. To begin understanding the nature of necromantic hexcraft we must first understand the nature of life and death as completely as possible. Due to this fact, the overt attempt to "cast a curse" is often considered the sole baliwick of more experienced necromancers. Though other divisions of necromancy are baneful to the practitioner, target, or both, these potentially harmful skills are rarely used for the sole purpose of damaging the targeted person while sparing the health of the caster; this is the explicit aim of thanatoic necromancy though.

To begin with a thantoic hex we must identify a few key components which, when combined, would comprise a completed hex. The first of these components, without question, hearkens back to one of the fundamental necromantic skills: thantoic sensitivity. This skill, developed so early in a necromancer's practice, becomes vital when attempting to construct and cast curses. The realm of the dead, in essence, is just one of the many levels of one's perceptual reality and is correlated in many ways to all other dimensions or facets of reality which are accessible to the practitioner. When we consider the nature of the body as it is seen on the material level, as a construct of flesh and bone, it is always important to realize that what we are observing is only one of many "layers" of reality which comprise our perceptual reality. The dimensions of reality are not static, but always in a state of dynamic malleability coinciding in motion to all other adjacent levels of reality like successive waves of water pushing each other along in synchronous rolling movements. To affect the body ethereal is to affect the body material, and vice versa. The extent to which these interactions change the world tends to be relatively minimal though, feeding off chance and twisting circumstance to manifest a desired outcome, so it is rarely in the best interest of a sole necromancer to attempt to use a hex to wildly affect a target, or even to kill them, since such things fall well outside the realm of chance manipulation.

The second component to a thanatoic necromancy hex is the identification and assessment of the condition of the body ethereal. As was mentioned, the body ethereal (soul) is the projected replica of the material body which exists in synergy with the realm of the dead as well as a few other realms occultists have identified, such as the ethereal itself and, to some, the astral and twilight. For the purposes of the necromancer, we need not be concerned with manifestations on other levels and can safely focus on the effects and exchanges between the soul and the body solely from the perspective of the netherworld. The second part of a thanatoic hex, as one might expect, is also non-invasive. Indeed, the last thing one would wish to do is to attempt to cast a spell before having all the required information to maximize efficacy present. Some become frustrated with the tedium of having to identify a target's etheric condition, preparing themselves to interact through the realm of the dead, observing circumstantial factors related to the casting, and other such diagnostic procedures, yet it is always in the best interest of the caster to ensure that the majority of factors are working in their favour rather than being maligned to a spell or simply not working for or against its fruition. Patience is essential, or, perhaps more accurately, persistence, if one wishes to learn rather than hit and miss while attempting to construct a viable hex.

The condition of the soul is perhaps one of the most critical components of creating a worthwhile hex, since it is at this juncture that one finally decides what kind of hex is mostly like to take effect. It must be kept in mind that magic is the ability to entice chance to work in the favour of the desires of the magician. What practical application does this have for the necromancer? Well, for one, it partially dictates the type of spells that are likely to work. A person with a known heart condition, for example, is much more likely to fall prey to a spell designed to induce arrhythmia or other palpitations than a person who has a healthy heart. The lungs, the kidneys, or whatever organ is ultimately targeted is best tampered with if there is already a higher chance of malfunction than there would be in a totally healthy target. Allergies, surgeries, and other such information all play a role in creating a hex which will be most probable to manifest. This is not to say that complications can not be created from scratch, but it is very rarely in the interests of the occultist (or anyone else, for that matter) to pick the hardest possible route to achieve a desired effect.

The body ethereal will show blockages, malignancies, and other abnormalities which may or may not be rooted in the condition of the physical body, or may or may not be rooted in the metaphysical, yet the presence of one necessarily entails a deformity in the other to some extent which therefore makes identification of the original source of the problem much more of a non-issue. In essence, at this juncture, the goal is to use the developed ability to 'read' the condition of the ethereal body, including its malignancies, deficiencies, and deformities, to consider the most likely illness to attempt to induce. Of course, there may be any number of exploits which are all equally viable. To discern between these options is to decide how severe the curse should be by considering the impact that a successful hex would have on the target. Those involved in hexing should be strongly cautioned against half-hearted casting though! For one, there is obviously no guarantee that the spell work even if properly cast. Secondly, even if successful, there is no guarantee that it will be in any way noticeable. Conversely though, and most importantly, there is no fail-safe to ensure that the spell will always work as it was intended to when it does take effect, meaning that a spell which was not intended to be much more than an itch has every potential to ultimately be lethal to the recipient. The nature of magic itself forces the necromancer to accept the fact that there is always a possibility that something can go drastically wrong from the time a spell is cast to the time it reaches full maturity of effect, and that the aftermath of an effect does not immediately dither into nothingness after the necromancer has long forgotten about their stricken target. However, I will digress no more.

To cause the actual effect there are a number of methods which are frequently employed by the necromantic hexcrafter. The use of these is simply a matter of preference depending on how one has shaped their practice and which skills were given the most attention. The first of these is a vampiric method of soul-casting where one dislocates from their body through the necromantic trance state, finds their target's ethereal form, and directly interfaces with it to arrange for harmful results to ensue. The second of these is to communicate with a spirit of the netherworld -- geist or sprite -- and entreat its aid to cause the required damage. In ancient Greek necromancy, it should be noted, this was by far the most favoured method of all. Should a spirit require assistance finding or causing the required harm, they must be able to relay that information if the necromancer has enough skill to be performing a hex in the first place. In this sense, the necromancer acts as a thanatoic field general commanding his legion of nefarious spirits. The third method is to harness the power of the nether itself and direct it in much the same way as most other spellcasters would. This power goes by many names, but has primarily carried the title "death essence" in the modern western world. Introduced in copious quantities to malign the ethereal body, death essence is the quintessence of the netherworld itself. Its application potentials should become readily apparent shortly after beginning necromancy so it will be assumed that no explanation is needed.

It absolutely must be kept in mind that few things in life happen without some kind of repercussion, however. To avoid the greater part of complications which can arise from attempting to cast a curse, it is in the best interest of the spellcaster to invest some time in divination. Hasty decisions causing hasty errors as they do, taking some time to plan and prepare for every curse is always advisable. This is not to say one can not cast a curse on the spur of a moment, but that it is usually not the most wise option. Necromantic hexcrafting is largely a matter of gathering information about as many relevant factors as possible concerning the target and the potential effects a successful (or unsuccessful) curse would have on the target and those around him or her. The effects of a curse attempt do not stop with the manifestation of the curse itself, as was alluded to earlier, but rather continues to seep, in various ways, into the lives of those around the target as well. If a loved one were injured, it would affect the family, and the family's grief continues to affect those social networks to which they are connected, and so on and so forth. Things of this nature should not be ignored (although they may be considered an acceptable risk). A divination through speaking with spirits familiar with curses and the situation in general, such as a netherworld sprite or spirit, is usually the suggested method of divining the effects of a curse, though the traditional runestone or tarot methods also make for a respectable alternative. Necromancers traditionally made use of haruspicers (those priests who would read omens from the entrails of a slain animal) to decide how they would proceed.

In general it could be said that thanatoic necromancy is the finely analytical and technical subdivision of the necromantic arts which aims specifically at causing damage -- sometimes even very precise types of damage -- to a specific target at a time and in a manner which is dictated solely by the necromancer. The technical purity of this art, breaking hexcraft down into a set system of examinations and planned corruptions, makes direct hexing an art reserved for the particularly skilled magi. The emphasis for this necromantic skill is the ability to accurately gauge the condition of the soul of another, to correlate any ethereal 'injuries' to the material health of the individual, and then to choose a means to exploit one or more of the discovered chinks and attempt to amply its effect on the target.

  1. Harnessing Death Essence -- Are you able to guide the fluctuations of the powers of death? Does the power of the netherworld appear to be something you are capable of reliably manipulating?
  2. The Body Ethereal -- Are you capable of reading and exploiting the weaknesses of the metaphysical form of another? Does the material body empirically reflect the damages imposed upon its ethereal mirror?
  3. The Body Material -- Is there a clear and established link between the material body and the soul made manifest? Have you studied the interactions between the two realms and their potential effects on one another?
  4. Indirect Analysis -- Do effects which manifest on either the metaphysical or physical planes have a relationship that can be understood? Has the challenge of reliably linking secondary effects to primary ones been overcome?
  5. Expeditious Effect -- Does it take a week for your spell to take effect or does it take a few hours? The goal, certainly, is to be able to control the precise moment and strength at which a spell takes effect.
  6. Anatomy and Physiology -- To study the exchanges of the material body is to have a masked glimpse at the innermost mechanics of the soul as well. Is your understanding of the functions of the human anatomy sufficient to create effects based on manipulating the functions of the material body?

By intuitively heightening one's awareness of the netherworld its interactions with the material level become apparent. This ability to sense and correlate is an extremely important one for those interested in constructing hexes. Magic, in this sense, is the ability to discern patterns in life that most would allow to go unrecognised. A spell is the triggering of these otherwise hidden facets of causation which truly places the necromancer in a position of great power if they are diligent seekers into the nature of reality. The observant, meticulous, and wise necromancer will always hold a great power which has historically given this art a dreadful and awesome air of authority and terror.

Transcarnate Necromancy: The study of transcarnation, in necromancy, is a matter of blurring the lines between life and death. The enchantment of the body is a skill which relies heavily on intuitive transmogrification of the flesh into something less (more?) than what it was. Transcarnation is sought after by many diligent necromancers because of the tendency for those hovering between life and death to be more sensitive to the interactions that take place between the netherworld and the material world. Even the anecdotal accounts of those who have endured a near-death experience often report seeing spirits, knowing of the presence of soul, and also, in some cases, sense the presence of death itself either as a sensation or as an anthropomorphism. There are also other types of accounts by those in the nursing and health care profession who have attested to being able to "feel" death in a room where one has recently died or by those interested in divining using objects of the recently departed. These phenomenon are indicative of the powers that exist which allow the skillful necromancer to manipulate their own soul, and indeed their own body, to become sensitive to the netherworld and to furthermore precipitate events from that level which will manifest as changes to the self.

The transformation to lich form represents the pinnacle achievement of any necromancer since it is, in essence, as close as one can come to being perfectly attuned to the realm of the dead without actually being a true denizen of that dimension through bodily death. Short of physical death itself, the lich state is the closest affinity to the netherworld that one can possibly achieve while still connected to a physical body. The spiritual lich form is considered such a coveted state of being that many necromancers would willingly sacrifice large portions of their life span to achieve such a thing. The attraction lies in a few facets, but is ultimately reduced to one of the single most coveted goals of all major forms of necromancy: to allow the soul to survive the death experience with the mind intact.

The purpose of the lich state, on its highest level, is to know. It is the transcendent knowledge of the levels of human consciousness and being able to straddle these levels simultaneously to produce an effect similar to what has been called "gnosis" by various sects and magical orders, yet the necromancer does not also maintain the utter arrogance to think that necromantic lichform's variant of gnosis is actually an absolute knowledge. It is simply the most perfect state of self made manifest to the self by the self through the systematic shedding of common confusing corporeal elements and instead seeking to achieve bilateral existence in both the material mundane world and also the metaphysical netherworld. There are a few ways in which necromancers have traditionally attempted to achieve the lich state, which will be discussed in turn.

The first and most radical method of achieving the lich state is through the use of drugs and dietary changes. Similar to the vision quest of a shaman, necromancers have occasionally taken it upon themselves to discipline, master, and then release their own body to the extent that it seems to simply fade away, leaving nothing but the aware and raw thanatoic consciousness. This is considered a radical method because many have not been so tame in their approach as the traditional shaman and have made use of many different types of chemical and regimen as aids. This seems like an attractive option, at first glance, for those that would like a quick and dirty solution to achieve lichform in record time with minimal effort, yet it should be kept in mind that this is very much a synthetic approach and carries a great deal of risk both to the body and also simply of causing a vile and pitiful state of self-induced illusion due to inadvertently increasing the amount of 'corporeal noise' which the lich state is aimed at dissolving. Nevertheless, some have chosen to use a synthetic route to achieve bodily dissolution and have routinely and aggressively made use of hallucinogens, narcotics, poisons, smoking, drinking, starvation, sleep deprivation, catatonic trances, bloodletting, and other forms of physically and mentally taxing deconstruction methods on their own body. (Obligatory Legal Warning: It absolutely must be noted now that none of these methods are necessarily condoned and that quite often there is a legal, psychological, interpersonal, and financial risk involved in using any these methods or their variants, not to mention the obvious risk to health. No responsibility can or will be taken for those that use this information as a justification for misconduct of any sort. It is known to be a suicidal method which is typically considered psychologically abnormal and often requires lawbreaking and spending a great deal of time and money to destroy the body and thus can not be condoned. This is presented only for academic purposes.)

These methods are certainly not unique to necromancy, per se, as a great many eastern methods and modern western methods within the realm of the occult have also used similar means, and most notably hallucinogens and catatonic postures, to achieve a heightened awareness. The most notable spin that necromancy has given to these techniques, and that which makes them necromantic specifically, is the aggressive and self-destructive zeal with which certain necromancers have used these methods. The purpose is not to simply enjoy the experiences or to achieve an epiphany and then return to normal life, but rather to punish the body with a fanatic barrage of hazardous techniques and substances until it is no longer strong enough to interfere with the matters of the soul. This artificial catharsis is meant to reduce the noise the material world presents by reducing the ability of the material body to accept these interruptions. With the body stupefied and the brain less active, the mind is allowed to note the subtle nuances of the realm of the dead and how it interacts with the corporeal realm.

Notably, in the necromantic world view, the brain and the mind are considered two different patterned phenomenon. The brain is simply the neural circuitry which allows the body to interface with the corporeal world. It is fantastically complex in its own right, yet does not, to the necromancer, represent the sum total of that which we commonly call the "true self". It is a physical thing which coordinates the physical body. Damaging the brain hinders one's mechanical ability to express emotion and thought in the material world, yet does nothing to destroy the mind. The mind is the closest semblance of a true self possible which naturally attunes itself to the material world due to the prepared matrix it is tethered to upon birth. The presence of a body ready to be used is too opportune for the mind to not default to when introduced to corporeal reality, yet it is amply clear to the necromancer that this default set of sensory delights is not the only set that exists. There are multiple levels available for exploration, yet the necromancer, for reasons often unique to the individual practitioner, has chosen to primarily explore the realm of the dead.

To begin this exploration the necromancer has to learn to stop relying on the five physical senses of touch, taste, smell, sight, and hearing as their sole means of receiving information. Perhaps due to the human condition, and our desperation to relate all things to terms which cater and correlate to the five material senses, necromancers will often speak of "seeing" ghosts, "smelling" death, "feeling" the chill of death, "hearing" voices of the dead, "tasting" fear or grief, and similar things which are, in essence, knowingly false comparisons made by analogy out of necessity for the sake of comprehension. The necromancer knows full well these things transcend the physical, yet our only way to relate necromantic experiences to our peers is often to simply make analogies based on the familiar five senses. Be wary of reading necromantic material for this reason; take care to not fall into the trap of literally understanding comparison and analogies. Instead, consider that the mind is an entity almost independent of the material world (yet related in ways that no necromancer fully understands) which is being fed information it can translate from any of a thousand realms and information sets.

Releasing the mind from the trappings of the material world, as opposed to the synthetic methods mentioned earlier, is an arduous task. The necromancer must first understand their goals, plot a method which will achieve these goals, then set to a unbroken regimen of concentration which is continually buffered by sheer willpower and discipline to achieve these set goals through the planned method. The goal of lichform is to transcend the physical world by attuning to the realm of the dead, as was stated earlier. The most common mechanism used to achieve this end can be synthetic regressions of the body, or selective progressive dismantling of the body. Selective dismantling is the traditional way of achieving this state, and is guaranteed to be permanent, assumably barring exceptional circumstances, but is also far more taxing on the mind and requires a great deal of time and effort.

Dismantling the senses in favour of increasing thanatoic sensitivity is less of a feat than it is a way of life. To begin the lichform transformation is the beginning of a new way of life rather than simply being an experience to walk away from. It is the sharing of information equally between the spirit and material worlds which makes a necromancer completely aware of occurrences on both planes.

To become an embodiment of the living and dead worlds requires the necromancer to remember. Too often seen as nostalgic doddering, reminiscing on past experiences is the key to achieving perpetual lichform. In this way the adept necromancer becomes somewhat of a mystic autobiographer; without introspection and analysis of past successes, intertwining death with life is impossible. The almost comedic irony of the lich state is that it is, in essence, only a most advanced and integrated form of all those rudimentary essential elements which have been previously developed. It is not as much of a new skill as it is the ability to simultaneously and perpetually engage the majority of skills that have already been accomplished. Much like drugs with superadditive properties, the history of one's own successes, when crystallised as a complete life regimen, will become more than a simple sum of component parts.

To not only second guess, but also to anticipate as well as react to events will separate the actions of a lich from the actions of a regular necromancer. While the term "undead" refers to the dead which have mythologically, figuratively, or ideologically achieved a semblance of life, a necromancer who has successfully attained the state of lichform could be said to be in a state of "unlife". While still living, such a necromancer has learned to adapt to the impulses of the realm of the dead and necessarily relies on the veracity of these impulses because of the accuracy of their interpretation of thanatoic intuitive senses. Having tasted of the precognitive powers death has to offer, drawing solely on the physical senses and deduction for information quickly becomes tedious, trite, and wearisome. Once competent in reading information from the realm of the dead and also comparing and contrasting these events with material occurrences, reliance shifts from the material to the ethereal.

The first major step in becoming a lich, beyond generic instructions, is to replace the sense of sight. Primary among the senses, as much as 60% of the brain is dedicated to vision. It is the most pervasive of all the senses and also the newest acquired sense in evolutionary history for the human species. For being so relatively new it certainly has become the single most dominant sense, often overriding other senses and taking our attention away from those things without a visually perceptible facet. This is the first major challenge an aspirant lich will face on the road to transcarnation. The necromancer must learn, first and foremost, that seeing is not believing, nor is seeing necessarily even important. Defeating the senses by systematic dismantlement and reintegration with impulses of the netherworld is the key. It is tempting to associate the mechanics of necromancy directly to the five corporeal senses, though this trap is avoidable by keeping in mind the fact that we were born into a material world and have been conditioned by society to acknowledge nothing that does not fit into the schematics of "proper" academia. As such, it is tempting to say that we "see" spirits, or "smell" death, though these things are merely mental correlations to that which is familiar. If that were the end of it though, such associations would be considered a natural adaptation. Unfortunately, this is not the case.

Stripping down the qualitative value of a necromantic omen or urge by feeding it to the desire to liken everything to sensory terms is utterly detrimental to progress. It would be like trying to condense the power of Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven to "a talking bird perched on a statue". Sadly enough, such barbarian butchery is often used by posers and passed off as "necromantic study" but the finer points, which make all the difference, entirely elude these coarse imposters. Since common language is constructed to address only the five conventional material senses though, it is literally impossible to adequately record the nature of these experiences without creating new words. These things each practitioner must explore and record on their own. In essence, the crux of the matter is to simply not accept blanket physical occurrences at face value. See the inner meaning by examining the immaterial catalytic factors through whatever means is deemed appropriate.

The last and most curious point about the lichform transcarnation regards changes in the practitioner which may or may not occur, depending on methods used, stage of progression or regression, and overall health. With the espousal of the realm of the dead into the life of the necromancer upon achieving a lich state, there seems to be a general trend among necromancer throughout history to have achieved the power they desired, yet also reflect their powers with rather gaunt complexions and frail frames indicative of their practices. The actual mechanics of this transcarnation are unknown as of yet, since few would dare say they have ever achieved full lichform, even for a moment, yet there are many in various lower stages of transformation which swear by the tales of old and the whispers of modern practitioners warning of the attrition that higher necromantic processes inflict on the user and their surroundings. Of course, as with any information of this sort, take it with a pinch of the proverbial salt, but do not discard it. Though not a rule set in stone, the reasoning is sound: shrouding the mind in an eternal pall of death carries deathly effects with it as the mind interacts also with the material plane.

In summary, the landmark achievement in transcarnate necromancy is to employ, in an integrated manner, as many of the previously perfected necromantic skills in an attempt to weave them into a single cohesive way of life. Also, above previous skills, the ability to centre the ego from the realm of the dead so that its impulses become a primary form of receiving information is key. Essentially, becoming a denizen of the realms of the living and dead simultaneously is the goal, and the rewards is everything that either realm has to offer.

  1. Second Sight -- Does the world seem different to you when toggling between the realms of the living and the dead? Do the carryovers from each world appear consistent?
  2. Selective Dismantling -- Are you capable of shutting down sole reliance on the material world for the sake of understanding the netherworld? Can these material interruptions be laid aside for a time to promote concentration on understanding necromantic impulses?
  3. Sensory Transition -- The old senses have taken second place to reliance on the realm of death. Are cognitions from the death realm lucid enough to reliably act upon?
  4. The Body Metaphysical -- By blurring the lines between life and death, effectively seeing the two states as coterminous spectra of the same reality, is the interplay between metaphysical effect and physical causation readily apparent?

The process of necromantic transcarnation has long been a fascination of the necromantic world. To turn into something which is still living yet resembles that which is dead (i.e.. "unlife") has been an obsession since the middle ages and continues into this day. Some claim to have achieved it, and some very enlightening theories (and some not-so-brilliant ones) have come to light over time to bring us ever closer to creating a perfect formula for lichform. In the form of a perfect lich lies unlimited access to the boons of the realm of death; what more could any necromancer want?



Infinite possibilities lie within this art and science of necromancy. Personal transformation, precognitive effects, channelling the dead, binding souls, sapping life, communing with the dead, and many other effects are all possible through this discipline, yet they are only the merest fraction of the possibilities that exist. These travelled paths can be likened to a mere few cells contributing to the complete body of necromancy, which is always evolving. Understand the precepts herein, apply them, master them, but, most importantly, expand on them when the formulas of your peers become insufficient. Exploit the liquid adaptivity of this dark art and remember always to revere the power of death.