"Almost everyone fails the being born a necromancer thing," Gideon waves a hand. That's the bigger board. Also the buffer stronger boat. Solid bones. She's not sure if shit will get serious, so she tosses in one last light comment. "If you only want a rival and profit, you should become the rival to a necromancer of your very own. Your steps 3 and 4 are whatever you need to do to hold your own with them. Turning into a wolf makes the cut, I'd say."

She's not sure if there is a getting home. For herself, she has no idea what it means, no idea where she would be (the awkward thing about misplacing your own body). "You don't have to confide that with a stranger, unless it's that it's important to shit. In which case, may your bowels love you."