Necromancer Jokes Novels & Stories

I can't convince him of something different. Then I think of something that might cause him to desist from that nasty idea. 'No kisses nor touching if you eat any of those filthy creatures…' There is a loud growl coming from him, but I couldn't help laughing. Is this a good time to joke or tease? No, it isn't, but if we lose our humanity, or if we don't think about a future, then what are we fighting for? He doesn't respond but I see him break into the place we were before and break one of the necromancers with his teeth, he then leaves his remains on the floor as he helps Aen break the other one. I smile to myself, at least he still listens to me.

Asking Blackmarsh to see justice done, not ordering it to serve my own ends. I’m talking myself into being some sort of vigilante superhero, here. The Necromancer, I think with an edge of hysteria. The giggle that breaks from my lips is one of nervousness and a sense of macabre humour. Let her turn your loved ones into heroes, but only after they’re dead. I’m ahead of myself. I’m assuming that it’s not just Bellmouth who will listen to me.

Then I realised he was offended. “Is there really need for that sort of language? We’re just people trying to live our lives. There’s no need for name calling.” “So you aren’t undead?” The zombie’s body went limp, and his arms fell to his side. “Ugh. Of course not. What does that even mean? Undead? It’s not even a real word. How can you un-dead anything? It makes no sense.” “Well,” said Maurice, “theoretically, a necromancer can—”

When the smoke clears the place, a necromancer appears. "Seriously? Did you have to call Shithead?" I called the necromancer Shithead since he looks like shit with his rotten features and now that my senses are back, I can smell his disgusting decaying spiritual vessel. Not only that, he looked like shit he smells like a stinking butthole too. "Let me guess, you failed your mission miserably that's why I am here to clean up your mess?" shithead sarcastically said to me. "How can you clean up my mess if you, yourself look like a mess?" I irritably said to him. "Have you ever heard of a bath or proper hygiene? Demons may be bad on the inside but don't have to look bad on the outside," I tease

“Are you kidding? I’m happy to be a necromancer.” I frowned. He was nuts anyway. Who in their right mind would be happy for such a gift when they couldn’t get a proper job and make any friends? Nobody liked necromancers. In everyday life, we were almost useless. None of us could lay to rest the undead anymore. As for setting protective traps and totems to scare the uncalled dead, every healer or even an elementalist could do that. “And what’s your specialty?” I decided to tone down my line of questioning, hoping that it’d become clear why Reive was happy.

“I could cut him open—” “No!” The word burst out of me, nearly bringing what was left of my guts up with it. “No, fuck, no.” “Ignore him,” Nate snapped. “He’s a necromancer, of course he always wants to dig up bodies. It’s like fucking Christmas for him.”

“I thought those wolves did their job.” “They were found dead,” Another voice pipes in. “Clearly they didn’t do a good enough job. Pity we lost them though. Jezbel was pissed.” “Don’t talk about that freaking necromancer at night,” The man who kicked me says and I can hear the shudder in his voice. Necromancer? The shock that moves through me is terrible. Neromancers are the worst kind of humans. I've heard about them but I know that they're kind is hunted with a vicious ferocity.

lisa asked him feeling even more confused. “We fight the Spectral attacks as they come and the Necromancers when we find them but we don’t know who is behind it.” He replied. “Spectrals?” “It’s Dark Magic. Very dark.” Mark said. “They’re like angry spirit things, they attack and suck the life out of their victims.” He said with a shudder. “Right.” lisa replied “And Necromancers? What are they?” “Witches. Well, a specific type of Witch. They bring back the dead to fight for them. To use necromancy is to curse your soul.”

His avatar showed a man in a black robe holding a staff made of bone. A classic necromancer. Thinking about my dad's strange behavior, I quickly sent him a friend request. It seemed like his message had stirred up the chat. [Alaric, stop spouting nonsense. I fish all the time. Never heard of that.] [Yeah, streamer, ignore him. He just wants attention.] [Still… you should leave. Your dad looks creepy. Who gets that excited over a dead fish?] [Agreed. Run. Your life matters more.]

He leaned over to Andrei with a mischievous grin. ‌ "Hey, Andrei, did you hear about the werewolf who walked into a bar? The bartender says, 'Why the long fur?'" Lucas snickered at his own joke, expecting a laugh from his alpha. ‌ Andrei raised an eyebrow, trying not to chuckle. "Lucas, that's a classic dad joke. You'll have to do better than that." ‌ Meanwhile, Rosey, the sweet and innocent young sorceress, piped up with her own response. "I heard a better one, Lucas. What do you call a werewolf without legs?”