{"id":6932,"date":"2019-10-12T18:08:49","date_gmt":"2019-10-12T18:08:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/wandering-inn\/?p=6932"},"modified":"2025-12-24T01:00:26","modified_gmt":"2025-12-24T01:00:26","slug":"6-48-t","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wanderinginn.com\/2019\/10\/12\/6-48-t\/","title":{"rendered":"6.48 T"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cToren? Toren.<\/em> Where have you gone, you silly skeleton?\u201d<\/p>\n

A young woman called out cheerfully in an old inn. She stood by a table, turning left and then right aimlessly. She had a blank, vacuous look on her face. But her voice was clear.<\/p>\n

\u201cToren! Get over here!\u201d<\/p>\n

At her words, a skeleton obediently trotted over. He was wearing a ragged apron, and he had a sword at his side. The young woman ignored both. She turned, and pointed.<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s some dirt over there. Someone made a mess. Maybe me. Clean it up, will you?\u201d<\/p>\n

The skeleton stared at her. Then he grudgingly walked over to a broom leaning against a table. Erin Solstice turned her back again and bumped into one of the few tables in the room as Toren went over to the tiny amount of dust and dirt and began sweeping it towards the entrance with the crude broom. Erin\u2019s voice continued.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd here\u2019s another<\/em> mess! Toren! I told you to keep the inn clean!<\/em> Sweep this up too! And is that blood?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

She was indicating another splotch on the floor. The skeleton looked up, spotted the other messes, and redoubled his efforts. He swept the first patch of dirt out of the door and scurried over to the next. Erin wasn\u2019t satisfied, though.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re so slow.<\/em> Honestly! This is why I hired Lyonette. I mean, even though all she does is complain and steal stuff. But to be fair, she never blew up my inn.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

She turned back to the table and bumped into it again. Toren\u2019s shoulders hunched, and he paused in cleaning up the dirt. The action wasn\u2019t missed by Erin, even though her back was turned.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey! Get back to work, lazy bones! Clean up the mess! That\u2019s what you\u2019re good for! That\u2019s all you\u2019re good for.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

The skeleton\u2019s head slowly rotated around on his shoulders. Two purple flames stared at Erin through the eye sockets of his skull. Erin, undeterred, kept speaking.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s your problem? I\u2019ve got places to be! Chop, chop! Clean up the mess!\u201d<\/p>\n

The skeleton threw down the broom and stepped on it. He snapped<\/em> the thin handle and heard Erin gasp.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow dare you! Toren! Clean that up right now and fix that broom!\u201d<\/p>\n

He ignored her. Toren advanced on Erin. She turned left, stared blankly at a wall. The furious skeleton circled around her, but Erin wouldn\u2019t look right at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cToren! I said<\/em> clean up the\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

The sword cleaved Erin\u2019s head open. Toren raised the blade, wrenching it out of Erin\u2019s head as she jerked<\/em>. Then he stabbed her through the chest.<\/p>\n

Erin stumbled. But she didn\u2019t fall. At last, her eyes focused on him.<\/p>\n

\u201cToren? What\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren yanked the blade free. He ran Erin through a second time. She still didn\u2019t fall. And\u2014she made no sound as he stabbed her. He did it again and again, piercing the pallid, rotting skin of her chest. And she was silent.<\/p>\n

At last, Erin fell to the ground. Toren stood over her, silently staring at her open eyes, her gaping mouth. He wasn\u2019t panting; skeletons had no lungs. And Toren was a skeleton. An undead creature brought back to life by necromancy. But he wasn\u2019t mindless. In his head, he was\u2026relieved.<\/p>\n

He\u2019d done it. Erin\u2019s stupid voice and her stupid orders <\/em>were done with. Forever. He\u2019d killed her. Silenced her at last, as he\u2019d fantasized about doing. She was dead.<\/p>\n

Again.<\/p>\n

Toren stared at Erin\u2019s body. Then suddenly, he stumbled back. He dropped the sword, clutched his skull of a head in his hands. What had he done? He\u2019d killed her. He\u2019d\u2014<\/p>\n

Erin jerked back upright with a groan. She didn\u2019t get up like normal people did; her feet found the ground, and she flopped upright without pushing herself up. It was an unnatural display of midriff strength few Humans could hope to equal.<\/p>\n

Oh, and she also had half a dozen stab wounds through her chest. But she wasn\u2019t bleeding. Her mouth gaped blankly at Toren, and her unfocused eyes stared right through him. She groaned. But it was more of an unconscious sound; zombies didn\u2019t speak no matter how hard Toren tried to make them.<\/p>\n

Toren stared at \u2018Erin\u2019 as the zombie of the young woman lurched upright unsteadily. A few maggots squirmed in her open mouth. The zombie lurched past Toren blankly, but Erin\u2019s voice still rang in Toren\u2019s head.<\/p>\n

\u201cToren! You stabbed me! Rude! Now, go pick up that broom and fix it. And get rid of all this dirt! Did you hear me? I said\u2014\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

The skeleton warrior shook his head. He walked away from Erin, picking up his sword, and sat down at a table. The zombie Erin bumped into a table again, and the momentum carried her down onto it. Toren heard a crash<\/em> as the flimsy wood broke. Zombie and table collapsed onto the ground. Toren whirled\u2014<\/p>\n

And the illusion fell apart. He stared around at the crude tables made of bits of wood held together with string or primitive nails. At the few chairs, which could barely support his weight, let alone an actual person\u2019s. At the bar\u2014a slab of wood on top of some rocks. At the \u2018kitchen\u2019, a metal door at the back, and the three doors that he\u2019d created that led into this room. The stone walls.<\/p>\n

This was not The Wandering Inn. And the zombie flailing uselessly on the ground wasn\u2019t Erin. Toren was in the dungeon. Erin Solstice was dead. Months dead. He\u2019d killed her. Left her alone in the snow outside a city far from her inn. And he was trapped in the dungeon. The skeleton buried his head in his hands. And he heard it closing in on him.<\/p>\n

Madness.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u2014\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

It was just one small room in hundreds, thousands of others. A single spot in the labyrinth, the maze of Liscor\u2019s dungeon. It was a tiny place, barely fortified by some crude doors. The inn had some tables, some chairs, a few bowls, and a barrel or two of \u2018food\u2019. And a skeleton and a zombie.<\/span><\/p>\n

The zombie was just a zombie. It was a young woman\u2019s zombie, and she had dirty and bloodied hair that might have been brownish once. She was\u2014had been\u2014Human and fairly young. She wandered about aimlessly, occasionally groaning, bumping into tables, chairs, walls, and the doors, looking for a way out.<\/span><\/p>\n

The skeleton was different. He was not aimless. Everything he did had a purpose. And he could use doors. Sometimes, he left the inn. Sometimes, he came back. Always, always, he kept the three doors that lead out from the inn closed, lest the zombie escape and fulfill her vocation of trying to kill anything alive. And he seldom opened the fourth door that led into the back of the inn. The sturdy, metal door that led to the\u2026kitchen.<\/span><\/p>\n

There were a lot of sounds coming from behind the metal door. But the skeleton ignored them. He had a job to do. With one hand, he held a crude dustpan, which looked like a bit of iron armor flattened out into a funnel of sorts. Which it was. And in the other hand, he held the head of a broom.<\/span><\/p>\n

Toren swept the stone floor, found a dustrag and a bucket of water and polished the floor, despite the water having tiny particles in it that made keeping everything <\/span>perfectly <\/em>clean impossible, and fixed up the broken table. The zombie lurched past Toren, groaning, doing that thing with her arms that was so trendy among zombies.<\/p>\n

Toren ignored her.<\/p>\n

He swept the floor diligently.<\/p>\n

He polished the bar.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t open the door to the kitchen.<\/p>\n

He stood blankly in a corner of the inn.<\/p>\n

He stabbed zombie-Erin repeatedly.<\/p>\n

He banged his head against the wall until his skull cracked and began to magically mend itself.<\/p>\n

He lay on the ground.<\/p>\n

He stabbed the giant fly-thing that tried to force its way into the room.<\/p>\n

He cleaned up the blood.<\/p>\n

He chopped up the fly thing and added it to the barrel of food. There were lots of maggots inside.<\/p>\n

He swept the floor again.<\/p>\n

And through it all, he wished\u2014oh, how he wished\u2014that he could go back in time. Because Toren was miserable. He was empty.<\/p>\n

Erin was dead. And he was lost.<\/p>\n

Not lost in a physical sense. Or even in terms of the dungeon. Toren didn\u2019t know how long he\u2019d been down here. He lost track, sometimes. The dungeon felt like a home to him, in a way. He knew the layout: he could navigate the threats of the dungeon, and he could pass through most areas without needing to see. Literally; the skeleton\u2019s memory was flawless. But Toren seldom went out of the inn he\u2019d built here. There was no point. All he wanted, the source of his misery and regret, was right here.<\/p>\n

Well, sort of. Zombie-Erin lurched past Toren, and he stared at her. It wasn\u2019t Erin\u2019s body. He knew that. It was just some Human\u2019s body he\u2019d found among all the dead corpses. This one looked most like Erin. Well, she had. Now, she had a bunch of holes in her chest, and half of her head was sheared off. Toren might need to find another \u2018Erin\u2019 soon. But this one was good.<\/p>\n

The skeleton waved a hand and felt a perverse sense of delight as the zombie obediently lurched over to him and halted in front of the table he was cleaning. That was one of his abilities. Commanding the undead. He could make the zombie-Erin run, hit things, lie down, or even pick things up, albeit clumsily. But he couldn\u2019t make the zombie speak. Or think. Or\u2014be Erin for him.<\/p>\n

The zombie halted in place, staring aimlessly past Toren. Her mouth was open, and Toren saw something wriggling inside. He absently picked out the squirming worms out of the fake Erin\u2019s mouth, tossed them into one of the snack bowls, and patted her on the head. A few hairs came out, and the zombie made an \u2018urghfshh\u2019<\/em> sound that was half-voice, half gas and liquid escaping from her deflated lungs.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry, Toren. I\u2019d never get rid of you. I like you. You\u2019re my favorite worker. Not like that jerk Lyonette.\u201d<\/p>\n

Erin\u2019s voice echoed in Toren\u2019s head. He stared at her and pointed at a chair. Zombie-Erin sat, with Toren\u2019s help, and wobbled unsteadily in her chair. It creaked<\/em>, but held. Toren stared at her. At Erin.<\/p>\n

Slowly, tentatively, he sat next to Erin. He could hear her voice in his head. As bright and cheerful as always. A perfect replica of how the real Erin had talked. That was the problem with Toren\u2019s memory. It was too perfect. He could remember Erin too well. It never faded.<\/p>\n

It. Never. Faded.<\/p>\n

Toren realized he was slamming his head against the table. He looked up. Erin stared at him, concern on her face. A maggot wriggled in her cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cI really need you to keep it together, Toren. I rely on you for all kinds of stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren nodded. Sorry. He was just having a bad moment. He was always having a bad moment, now. He edged closer. Gingerly, hesitantly, Toren leaned against Erin.<\/p>\n

The zombie tried to lurch away. Toren grabbed its hand and patted his skull with it. It was something he had seen her do to Mrsha. And the little Gnoll had smiled. The skeleton sat there, patting his own head with Erin\u2019s hand. Then he gingerly hugged Erin.<\/p>\n

The skeleton smiled, but not by choice. And his purple eyes dimmed slightly. The purple fire grew weaker. He didn\u2019t feel better. He felt worse. The zombie moved, unconsciously trying to seek something to kill. Toren ordered it to hold still, and it did. But he knew it wasn\u2019t really Erin.<\/p>\n

Then he heard her voice again, whispering in the confines of his skull.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou blew up my inn, Toren. You blew it up! You maniac! And you killed me. You killed me, and I\u2019m dead, and you will never leave this dungeon ever again.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren jerked<\/em>. He leapt away from the table, and zombie-Erin fell to the ground as the chair holding her collapsed. Shaken, the skeleton stared at the zombie as she picked herself up. She hadn\u2019t said anything.<\/p>\n

It was all in his head. All in his head. Toren smacked his skull with his bony hands. And he felt terrible. Because after months, after so long, he could finally admit it: he wanted to go home. But he couldn\u2019t. The dungeon was his prison.<\/p>\n

Toren lacked a living person supplying him with mana. Without it, he couldn\u2019t go above without running out of magical energy in minutes. And without magic, the spells giving him life would wither, and he would die. Anything short of that Toren could survive; in the mana-heavy environment of the dungeon, he was very, very <\/em>hard to kill because his body would automatically repair itself over time.<\/p>\n

Those were the facts. Toren had lost his old home, The Wandering Inn. His master, Erin, was dead. He\u2019d killed her. Well, not directly, but he\u2019d left her in the snow far, far from home. So it was his fault.<\/p>\n

Around and around, the thoughts went. Toren couldn\u2019t avoid them. He\u2019d tried. He\u2019d tried to replace Erin, remake the inn, even find a clientele in the dungeon. None of it had worked. Toren tried to cheer himself up by killing things with his sword, but he\u2019d given that up, oh, about two zombie-Erins ago. What was the point?<\/p>\n

He\u2019d gotten tired of killing things for no reason. And that was the most shocking thing Toren could ever imagine in the world. But there it was. If you didn\u2019t have a reason, killing things got boring after twenty thousand six hundred and fifty-one times.<\/p>\n

Toren mechanically got back to work after a while of beating his skull with his hands. He bent down and fixed up the broken chair. The stupid furniture was always breaking. Unfortunately, Toren didn\u2019t have much in the way of stuff to fix it with.<\/p>\n

The current chairs and table were held together with bits of twine, strips of monster hide or sinew, and nails fashioned out of bits of metal. Toren was wrapping a bit of antenna or something around the chair, hoping it would keep the fragmented wood together, when he heard a sound.<\/p>\n

A voice. The skeleton froze, and his hand darted to his sword. Another hand grasped at something at his side. A mask. The hand tried to place the mask on his face, but Toren forced it down. He waited, listening. Where\u2026?<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t coming from one of the three ramshackle doors leading out of the inn. Toren relaxed. It wasn\u2019t adventurers. Or Raskghar. Or Cave Goblins. Or those annoying little monsters that pretended to be children. In fact, it was coming from the metal door.<\/p>\n

The kitchen. Toren paused. But curiosity slowly propelled him towards it. He hesitated, listening. There were definitely voices<\/em> coming from the other side. More than before. The [Skeleton Knight] paused as he reached for the door. There was a bar on this door. He slowly touched it, then glanced around.<\/p>\n

Zombie-Erin was nearby. Toren looked at her and then hurried her into a far corner of the inn. Then he came back over, unbarred the metal door, and opened it. Quickly, Toren went through and shut the door behind him.<\/p>\n

It was dark in the \u2018kitchen\u2019. It wasn\u2019t a kitchen. It was really just a large room, empty when Toren had found it. Now it was full. Of corpses.<\/p>\n

Four thousand bodies. Well, four and a few hundred if you wanted to be precise. Raskghar. Human. Goblin. Drake. Gnoll. All of them were piled up, some practically to the ceiling in places. Rotting. Decomposing. And now\u2014wandering about.<\/p>\n

Toren gazed around the room. His fellow undead had moved at the sudden influx of light and lurched towards the door, but now that it was shut, they began wandering again. It was nearly pitch-black in the room. There was no light, save from the countless eyes, staring, shining with undead malice. No light. But there were voices.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoombringer.\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren jumped. Someone was talking in the darkness. He glanced around and saw a huge, hulking, distended figure. A monster twice as tall as he was with bones for teeth, eyes staring out of the mouth, black liquid dripping from its gaping maw. Huge \u2018hands\u2019. Legs made of other body parts.<\/p>\n

A Crypt Lord. One of the more powerful breeds of undead. It moved more purposefully than the zombies and Ghouls around it. But it hadn\u2019t made the sound. Toren peered around it. The Crypt Lord held its ground, staring past Toren at the door. There was something like intelligence in the way it stood, but not too<\/em> much intelligence. Toren impatiently raised his hands to push it out of the way, then thought better. He meekly edged around the Crypt Lord and listened.<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2026it be an end to all of us!\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

A voice screamed. Toren jumped a foot in the air and bumped into a Ghoul. The undead staggered, and Toren sheepishly edged back. None of the other undead seemed to notice the voice. Toren moved forwards. And then he saw the speaker.<\/p>\n

It was a Gnoll. He lay on his stomach, his head twisted up to stare blankly past Toren. He was dead; someone had broken his ribs, torn out his heart. But the Gnoll spoke. His lungs moved, and his voice was only slightly distorted by rot and death.<\/p>\n

\u201cCursed Raskghar.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Toren peered at the Gnoll. Then he stared at the thing that the Gnoll was connected to. Where the Gnoll\u2019s legs should have been, Toren only saw a squirming mass of limbs. Fur. Elongated flesh. Heads. Hands, grasping. Legs. Faces. And more voices.<\/p>\n

\u201cDamn you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLord Veltras! The Goblins are\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRedfang!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho are\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot a Raskghar\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

A babble of voices, now, from the heads, the bodies twined together. Toren stared. There were hundreds of faces, all woven together in a\u2026he eyed the thing. A mount of bodies. No, more like a tree. The \u2018roots\u2019 or \u2018legs\u2019 were torsos, like the dead Gnoll. The thing had limbs made of people. And in the center of it, rising up, was a pillar of flesh. Of heads. They were all parts of a whole, and they spoke.<\/p>\n

Goblins. Humans. Gnolls. Drakes. Ooh! And a Raskghar. It just snarled, growling incoherently. But then, all the voices were nonsensical. Toren shook his head, listening. The Gnoll was speaking again.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoombringer. Doombringer.\u201d<\/p>\n

Who was he talking to? Toren wondered. They were words from his life, no doubt. The Gnoll tried to drag itself forwards, and all the hands and bodies nearby did the same. Toren jumped; the thing was moving.<\/em> It was thousands upon thousands of pounds of rotting flesh joined together, but the sum of the parts allowed it to crawl forwards across the ground.<\/p>\n

Toren studied the\u2026thing. Hundreds of elongated corpses tangled together, hands grasping, heads moving. Staring at him. Uttering fragments like the Gnoll babbling his last words. He stepped forward and behind the mount of flesh, the entire creation as a whole. The undead collective. Toren turned his head. Next to it, another Crypt Lord had risen, and it was tearing at a lesser zombie, \u2018eating\u2019 it and absorbing the bones and flesh into its own makeup. Toren paused and then shook his head.<\/p>\n

This was a complete failure. He sighed, stepped back as the flesh-pit tried to crawl forwards again, and scuffed backwards. He tried to order the mass of bodies not<\/em> to crawl over him, but it ignored his commands. Just like the Crypt Lords. There were eight of them in the room\u2014five more than last time. Hundreds of zombies already. Not any skeletons; all the bodies Toren had found were fresh, but a good number of Ghouls, too.<\/p>\n

Toren pointed at one of them, a more agile, alert version of the zombie. It obediently bounded over to him; a corpse of a Raskghar, but before Toren could give it another order, he felt something else<\/em> impose its will. The Ghoul paused, turned, and bounded back to the nearest Crypt Lord. Toren stamped his foot and glared at the undead commander. The Crypt Lord stared at Toren, and he felt a tug. It wanted him to follow it. Toren ignored the command and clattered his jaw furiously.<\/p>\n

Failure! Another failure! He\u2019d had such hopes<\/em> for his room of undead! And he\u2019d worked so<\/em> hard to gather all the bodies! But instead of creating what he\u2019d wanted\u2014an army of undead he could control and maybe even some high-level undead for him to use\u2014he\u2019d created, well, high <\/em>undead.<\/p>\n

Crypt Lords. And whatever that flesh-pit thing was. They not only ignored Toren\u2019s orders, but were capable of giving other<\/em> undead orders. Case in point: each Crypt Lord had a retinue of over dozens of zombies and Ghouls that followed them around. Try as he might, Toren couldn\u2019t \u2018steal\u2019 any of the undead; the Crypt Lords had more authority than he did. And worse, if he tried to poach a few bodies\u2026<\/p>\n

The Level 27 [Skeleton Knight] paused. He hadn\u2019t leveled up much in that class; Toren didn\u2019t do much killing these days. But he had another class. The purple flames in the skeleton\u2019s eyes glowed brightly for a moment. He pointed, and one of the corpses lying in a small mound jerked and began to move. Toren saw it rise, saw the ghastly light appear in its eyes. A zombie Hobgoblin rose, and Toren clapped his hands delightedly.<\/p>\n

Level 12 [Undead Leader]. [Command Lesser Undead]. That was another class he possessed and a Skill that allowed him to give orders to zombies and Ghouls and skeletons. But also\u2014<\/p>\n

[Raise Corpse]. The zombie lurched forwards. Toren beckoned to it urgently before one of the stupid Crypt Lords could steal his<\/em> zombie. The zombie obediently stumbled forwards, and Toren motioned it to the door. He reached for the handle\u2014<\/p>\n

And the flesh-pit moved. A mass of hands rose, grabbing, and yanked<\/em> the Hobgoblin zombie off its feet. Toren froze as he saw the zombie struggling, then going limp. The mass of corpses was drawing it in!<\/p>\n

The flesh-pit picked up the zombie and pulled in into the writhing mass of bodies. Toren felt the zombie\u2019s individual presence vanish. And the squirming pile of bodies was suddenly a bit larger. Toren stared at it. He heard a myriad of voices. A wail of dead bodies, echoing their life.<\/p>\n

Toren scuffed at the ground with one bony foot. Jerk. It kept doing that. All Toren wanted was his<\/em> army of zombies. But could he get even one? No\u2026<\/em>he could barely replace his zombie-Erin! There were all these\u2026<\/p>\n

The Crypt Lords were aimlessly walking the room, searching for a way out. Toren noticed one coming up behind him too late. He turned, and it reached for him with one huge hand. The skeleton tried to jerk away, but the Crypt Lord caught him. It raised Toren up as the skeleton struggled. And the many eyes in the thing\u2019s mouth focused on Toren\u2019s burning purple flames.<\/p>\n

The skeleton froze. He felt the Crypt Lord\u2019s mind pressing in on his. From that mind, Toren felt\u2026an instinct. A thought magnified so loud it drowned out Toren\u2019s sense of being. The Crypt Lord\u2019s thoughts blasted through Toren\u2019s skull.<\/p>\n

DEATH.<\/em><\/p>\n

It dropped him. Toren collapsed to the ground, stunned, the command still vibrating through his entire being. The Crypt Lord lurched past him, ignoring the skeleton in a moment. It grabbed a Ghoul, lifted it up, made eye-contact, dropped it. The Ghoul bounded into place in the Crypt Lord\u2019s retinue. Toren kept lying on the ground. He didn\u2019t feel like following the Crypt Lord around. Still, that had rattled him.<\/p>\n

Toren got up after a bit. It was too crowded here. He glared at the Crypt Lord who\u2019d picked him up. He knew it was probably a bad idea, but he was Toren!<\/em> The strongest skeleton in the world! How dare the Crypt Lord pick him up like\u2014like\u2014like a common Ghoul?<\/em><\/p>\n

The purple light in Toren\u2019s eye sockets grew a bit brighter. He casually sidled past the undead following the Crypt Lord about. The undead commander was searching for another member of its army when Toren tapped it on the\u2026back. The Crypt Lord turned, black blood dripping between its bone-teeth.<\/p>\n

Toren plunged his sword into the Crypt Lord\u2019s chest. The undead recoiled! Toren laughed silently. Hah! Take th\u2014<\/em><\/p>\n

The Crypt Lord smashed <\/em>Toren into the ground with one massive hand. The zombies and Ghouls leapt on Toren, tearing his bones apart and smashing him flat. For about five seconds, the skeleton flailed with his sword\u2014and then he was torn apart. The bones went flying as the Crypt Lord kept smashing the same spot and then stopped. It paused,\u00a0 then went about its business.<\/p>\n

The skeleton\u2019s bones lay there for a while, and the Crypt Lord moved past him, wandering aimlessly around the enclosed room. After a few more minutes, the bones began rolling towards the door. Toren furtively reassembled himself next to the door and crept back to pick up his sword. The Crypt Lord he\u2019d stabbed ignored him. Toren lifted his sword, looked at the undead\u2019s back, and thought better about it.<\/p>\n

He hurried back to the door and pushed it open. The Crypt Lords turned as one, and the wailing from the flesh-pit grew louder. All the undead lurched for the door, and the nearest Crypt Lord reached out, trying to fit itself through the opening. It saw a skeleton in the way and ordered it to move aside.<\/p>\n

Toren slammed the door in the Crypt Lord\u2019s face and was rewarded with a satisfying thwack. <\/em>The skeleton grinned and did a little dance in place. Idiots!<\/em> So what if they could command more undead than he could and beat him in a fight? They couldn\u2019t open doors.<\/em><\/p>\n

He absently pushed the door closed all the way and slammed the bar down. Then he kicked it for good measure. The door made a satisfactory ringing<\/em> sound, and Toren slapped one shin-bone, grinning. His good mood lasted all of eight seconds. Then he stared at the door and gloomily went back to the table. He sat down as zombie-Erin lurched past him.<\/p>\n

Yep. That was a failure. Stupid undead. All Toren wanted were some Draug, not\u2026bosses<\/em>. And besides which\u2026Toren sprawled out at the table like he\u2019d seen Erin do.<\/p>\n

So that was what other undead were like, was it? The Crypt Lord\u2019s order still resonated in Toren\u2019s soul. The skeleton thought about it. And he shook his head.<\/p>\n

There was nothing there. Toren had seen a glimpse of the future in the Crypt Lord\u2019s mind\u2014a future it would bring about, what all undead would bring about given their natural instincts and time. And the world they would create was empty. An oblivion where the undead were all that remained. That was its purpose. And Toren, understanding that, came to another conclusion.<\/p>\n

Undead were idiots. All except for him. The skeleton looked at zombie-Erin. He paused, then threw one of the snack bowls at her. It bounced off her head, and she staggered.<\/p>\n

Yup. Idiots. All they wanted was to kill the living? What was the point in that? Toren paused. Well, obviously for fun<\/em>, but all life? Every living thing until the world was silent and empty and nothing, not even insects, could reproduce? That was the stupidest idea he, Toren, had ever heard of. And he\u2019d taken orders from Erin Solstice.<\/p>\n

Death was boring. He should know. Life, now\u2026Toren paused. He looked at zombie-Erin.<\/p>\n

This was what Toren realized. It hit him like a snack bowl. Killing things was sometimes a bad idea.<\/em> The skeleton\u2019s jaw dropped off his skull. He had to pick it up and reattach it. But\u2014he looked at the kitchen door. At zombie-Erin.<\/p>\n

There could be no other explanation. He regretted killing Erin. He missed her. He wished she were back. Even though she was stupid. Even though she did things he didn\u2019t like.<\/p>\n

That was the thing. He didn\u2019t know how he felt about her. Erin. She\u2014had\u2014made him angry. Given him orders he didn\u2019t like. But Toren missed her. More than that, he needed<\/em> her. He\u2026wanted her not to be dead. Because she was annoying and stupid and he had to obey her.<\/p>\n

But sometimes. Ah, sometimes. Sometimes, she sang, and the music still haunted him. Sometimes, she said \u2018thank you\u2019 or \u2018good job, Toren\u2019. And sometimes, she came up with things to do that were\u2026fun. She had given him meaning and, in a way, life.<\/p>\n

Protect Erin Solstice. Obey her. Be used in less-optimal tasks.<\/em> Of all the people and animals and monsters and things in the world, Toren regretted killing only her. And he realized the scope of his blunder, his error now. She was gone. And death was timeless. The undead came for all things, and they were eternal, or close to it. Which made living things, finite things, more precious.<\/p>\n

Or maybe just Erin. Toren was still hazy on whether other living things mattered. But Erin did. Because there had only been one of her.<\/p>\n

These were the things Toren didn\u2019t do. He didn\u2019t bury his head in his hands. He didn\u2019t weep. Or scream. Or hit the tables or himself, or curl into a ball or shake or shudder in pain. Because those were biological reactions. They didn\u2019t help<\/em> him. So he just sat. And hurt.<\/p>\n

This was what Toren knew, too late. You couldn\u2019t get something back when you lost it. It was a revelation for him, just the same way it was for anyone who loses something precious the first time.<\/p>\n

The skeleton sat and was sad. Insanity gnawed at his mind. Madness and sadness. And as it got too much for him to handle, as he sank lower and lower, his hand moved. Toren tried to stop it. But he was too weak. And the mask, the mask hanging by his side came up. It covered his face, and he\u2014<\/p>\n

Was she. Toren sighed and relaxed and shook her head. She glanced around, realized she was naked, and stomped over to a pile of rags in the corner of the inn. Zombie-Erin watched blankly as Toren dressed herself. When she was done, she seemed like\u2026a person. You could mistake her for a thin, female Human wearing a mask. Female Toren adjusted the cloth padding on one arm and shook her head.<\/p>\n

Too long since she\u2019d last been in charge. He<\/em> liked moping around his inn too much. But she didn\u2019t agonize like he did. She had something Toren lacked. Purpose. She left the bar behind, contemptuously stalking out of the illusion of the inn. She was so annoyed with him that she didn\u2019t even bother closing the door. It would serve Toren right if something came along and ate his fake-Erin. And he\u2019d probably go on a murderous rampage again or sit in a corner. But that was his<\/em> time. She had other plans.<\/p>\n

The skeleton disappeared from the inn. Zombie-Erin lurched around, not quite picking up on the fact that she could leave the inn yet. She wandered about, occasionally groaning.<\/p>\n

After a few minutes, the door to the \u2018kitchen\u2019 opened slowly. The Crypt Lord pushing it open stared at the drop-bar that usually kept the room sealed. It hadn\u2019t landed in the crude metal holster. The door opened wider, and the Crypt Lord stumbled forwards. The lone zombie in the inn gazed up as whispering voices filled the inn. Voices and movement.<\/p>\n

Suddenly, there were a lot of\u2026things coming out of the corpse room. Not just Crypt Lords, zombies, Ghouls, and flesh-pits, either. Something crawled down, made of many bones. Toren would have been shocked to know they were in the room. Because Toren, in the way skeletons and people often lacked spatial awareness, had never once decided to look up.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

\u2014\u2014<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Anith, the Jackal Beastkin of Vuliel Drae had never once in his entire life thought to question what kind of stone Liscor\u2019s dungeon was made from. It was not on his list of things to worry about, and as team leader of his eclectic group, he had any number of concerns.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cGranite?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He politely stared at the Human woman holding the hammer and the pointed nail of metal in one hand. It looked like a nail\u2014only about a hundred times bigger. She was angling it towards the slab of the floor, tapping it and frowning. Earlia, the Silver-rank Captain of the Gemhammer, glanced up and nodded.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s right. Got to be. You can see just by the way it looks, obviously, but who\u2019s going to make a dungeon out of anything less? What did you think it was?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Anith blinked at Earlia. The Jackal [Mage] closed the spellbook he\u2019d been studying and coughed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI must confess, I\u2019ve never given it any thought. If you were to ask me, I would have assumed it was a\u2026limestone?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201c<\/span>Limestone?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia burst into laughter. She sat back on her haunches, away from the trap mechanism that was only three feet in front of her. Anith\u2019s fur tried to stand up on end; he wasn\u2019t so sanguine about their proximity to the trap. But Earlia kept laughing.<\/p>\n

\u201cLimestone. Hey, Timgal, Anith here thinks this dungeon\u2019s made of limestone!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith heard a guffaw from further down the room. The Jackal sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI only assumed\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, that whoever built this dungeon wants it to wash away with the first rainstorm that hits it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia snorted. She grabbed the nail of metal and hammer and leaned forwards again. She pressed the tip into the ground and began smacking the top with the hammer, trying to drive it into the stone. Anith, embarrassed, watched in silence. Earlia was hitting the wedge hard<\/em>, without fear of smacking her gloved hand, but the pick didn\u2019t seem to be penetrating the dungeon\u2019s floor. With a sigh, Earlia growled and tossed the hammer behind her.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s no good! Boys, we have to crack the enchantment before we can break the stone! Where\u2019s my sledgehammer?\u201d<\/p>\n

She stood up, and the rest of her team, five more heavily armed and armored adventurers, walked forwards. Anith backed up politely against one wall of the passage to make room for them and the weapons they carried. They were all armed with picks, sledgehammers, or mauls, weapons that required a lot of brawn to swing. And the men and women had that in supply. Earlia nodded as she grabbed a sledgehammer.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright. Me first. Anith, you step back. Watch your faces!\u201d<\/p>\n

The rest of her team stepped back, shielding their eyes and averting their heads. Anith gave them more space, not knowing why, and Earlia raised her sledgehammer.<\/p>\n

\u201c[Hammer Blow]!\u201d<\/p>\n

The first impact made a sound like thunder as metal hit stone. Anith clapped a hand over his sensitive ears and recoiled. The other adventurers, seemingly used to the sound, just waited. Earlia studied the patch of floor and scowled.<\/p>\n

\u201cNext!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMy turn.\u201d<\/p>\n

The huge fellow named Timgal stepped forwards. He held a miner\u2019s pick, and he swung it up and down, aiming for the same spot Earlia had hit.<\/p>\n

\u201c[Piercing Blow].\u201d<\/p>\n

His strike was less thunderous, but the crack<\/em> was still sharp enough to keep Anith\u2019s hands over his ears. He kept watching as Timgal stepped back, grunting and eyeing the spot to let another man step forwards with a maul. Anith watched the maul go up\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201c[Power Strike]\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWatch your eyes, idiot!\u201d<\/p>\n

A hand blocked Anith\u2019s vision right before he heard the crack<\/em> of impact. This time, there was more than just the collision; he heard the stones breaking and felt something ping<\/em> off the wall beside him. He jerked back as Earlia lowered her hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat was\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShrapnel. Hey! Keep a hand over your eyes and step back! All of you! Dead gods, haven\u2019t any of you lot ever been around a mining operation?\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia snapped at Anith and the adventurers crowding around behind her team. Anith turned. The rest of his team, Vuliel Drae, stared at Earlia and sheepishly shook their heads. So did he. Earlia sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cHands over eyes<\/em>. Got it? We have helmets or we cover ours. You do not<\/em> want to be hit by a bit of flying rock when we break the dungeon\u2019s floor. That\u2019s how you lose eyes, healing potions or not. Step back! Next! <\/em>Fea, break open those tiles with your pickaxe! Blaik after her!\u201d<\/p>\n

The rest of Gemhammer took turns using their Skills. The sound of breaking stone was accompanied by a spray of fragments that kept Vuliel Drae covering their eyes until Earlia announced a break.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright! Fifteen minutes, everyone! Then Blaik\u2019s up with his [Power Strike]. Back to the other room\u2014let\u2019s keep working on that trap!\u201d<\/p>\n

The rest of her team trooped backwards, laughing good-naturedly and picking up the hand-wedges\u2014the oversized nails of steel\u2014and the smaller hammers. Vuliel Drae watched, bemused and confused.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait, you\u2019re giving up?\u201d<\/p>\n

Insill, the Drake [Rogue], stared at the patch of broken stone, perplexed. Earlia shook her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot at all. But we\u2019re out of usable Skills. The rest of my team only has one, like Blaik\u2019s [Power Strike]. We need to keep using them; we\u2019ll never break the stones just by swinging our hammers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. I mean, of course. Sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Drake nodded understandingly. Earlia smiled and jerked a thumb behind her.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd while we do that, we\u2019ll keep breaking down these trap-pillars. We already got the warding enchantment down; all we have to do is carefully remove the actual blades.\u201d<\/p>\n

She was pointing to the room behind them. Anith turned and looked at the trap-pillars. There were two in the room, and they were designed such that anyone carelessly entering the room would be instantly diced by the rows of curved blades that would spring from hidden compartments on each pillar. However, the activation mechanism in this particular trap room had been disabled, and now Gemhammer was methodically breaking down the granite stone to get at the trap.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll split our time between working with hand tools and using our Skills. Once we break the warding enchantment, we can use physical force. But we\u2019ll still be at work for a few hours. At least. It\u2019s a day\u2019s job, really.\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia sighed as she grabbed her own hand wedge and hammer. Anith nodded, impressed. He wasn\u2019t the only one. Another member of his team, Dasha, the half-Dwarven woman, spoke up.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s proper mining technique alright. Which I know about because of my ancestry. Your team\u2019s not bad at manipulating stone, Miss Earlia. For Humans, of course.\u201d<\/p>\n

She stroked her beard self-importantly, ignoring the eye-rolling of the rest of her teammates. Anith sighed, but Earlia just laughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe were [Miners], you know. It\u2019s just that adventuring pays better, and it\u2019s about the same level of danger. Anyways, if your team wants to watch\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at Anith meaningfully, and he nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. Insill, Dasha, watch our way in. Pekona, Larr\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOn guard.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Gnoll [Archer] and [Sword Dancer] Human, Pekona, both nodded and moved to cover the other entrance. Insill and Dasha walked past Gemhammer. They took up a casual guard so that both entrances were watched. Earlia nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cThanks, Anith.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. You are paying us.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Jackal coughed again, a bit embarrassed. It was the first time his team had ever been hired to guard another adventuring team, but Earlia had asked, and he had agreed out of curiosity and a sense of obligation. The Captain of Gemhammer gave him a grin.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know it\u2019s not much, but my team and I wanted someone to guard us for the first few times, just to see what kind of attention we attract. We\u2019re loud, and we\u2019ll have our hands full without posting a guard. Best case is that you pocket some silver, and all you have to do is stand about for a few hours. Worst case\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She glanced at Larr and Pekona, leaning against their walls and keeping an eye out, and Dasha and Insill, probably arguing about her dubious claim to Dwarven knowledge. Anith sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t worry. Despite how they look, my team is relatively alert. Larr and Insill will spot anything coming. But can we help in any way with, ah\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He waved a hand at the traps Gemhammer was working on. They were in the trapped rooms, the first layer of Liscor\u2019s dungeon. But unlike every other team that had tried to pass through this area, Gemhammer hadn\u2019t been interested in advancing or clearing more trapped rooms. Instead, they\u2019d insisted on finding rooms already de-trapped by other teams, like this one. Anith still wasn\u2019t entirely sure what they were doing.<\/p>\n

Earlia shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf your team\u2019s got anyone with [Power Strike] and a sturdy weapon, we could use you. Dasha\u2019s the only one by the looks of it, and her axe is a bit\u2026fragile. Don\u2019t worry about it. We just need time, and we\u2019ll start breaking the walls and floor. Clearly, we\u2019re working with a dungeon-wide enchantment here. The big stuff. No room-by-room enchantment or mundane materials here.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her comment made one of the other adventurers glance up. Blaik wiped a bit of grime from his brow as he hammered the spike of metal into the stone pillar.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat d\u2019you reckon\u2019s holding the place together? Dungeon-wide enchantment worked into the stones? That\u2019s high-grade stuff, which is what I\u2019d expect. Or does it have a locus of some kind?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, like a dungeon heart<\/em>? Hah!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAs bad as limestone?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith politely inquired. The rest of the former [Miners] snorted. It was Earlia who replied, shaking her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf it is, it\u2019s worse than limestone. Dungeon hearts or dungeon cores are terrible dungeon design. All one adventurer has to do is charge into the center and break whatever\u2019s powering all the enchantments. Then the entire dungeon implodes or falls apart.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAh.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith had no idea that was a problem. But then\u2014he wasn\u2019t an expert on dungeons. And he was regretting it now. Earlia\u2019s team had clearly done their research, and they were talking as they hammered at the trap. One of the women, Fea, was nodding knowingly.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not actually that bad to use limestone in a dungeon, Mister Anith. I mean, limestone\u2019s soft, almost as bad as marble, but so long as it\u2019s enchanted, that\u2019s the trick. You can\u2019t make many dungeons out of regular stone. It breaks down too fast\u2014and if you get Crelers, Rock Mites, or half a dozen other monsters infesting your dungeon? Inside of a decade, it\u2019ll be more porous than a sponge!\u201d<\/p>\n

She tsked<\/em>, shaking her head over poor dungeon quality management. The rest of the [Miners] nodded. They were wearing gloves, and several had helmets on to shield their faces. Earlia\u2019s voice was muffled as she put on a helmet and got to work beside her team.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t mind my team, Anith. We\u2019re good at dungeons and rock-related stuff and nothing else. A new dungeon\u2019s a great opportunity for us, especially now all this insanity with the Raskghar and so on\u2019s died down. Still, no one\u2019s taking chances.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhich is why you reached out to my team. May I ask why you wish to dismantle this room, though? I assumed it was already safe.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith glanced at the trap pillar. One of the adventurers was carefully working a concealed metal blade out of the wall. Earlia chuckled.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? You mean you don\u2019t know what we\u2019re doing? There\u2019s gold to be made\u2014safely\u2014<\/em>by removing these traps. That\u2019s what our team\u2019s here for, and that\u2019s how we\u2019re going to make a fortune.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy removing\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

And then Anith saw Blaik pull one of the metal trap blades out of the wall. The man grunted, very carefully keeping his fingers away from the edge.<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain. Got one!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood work, Blaik!\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia chortled and raised her visor for a better look. She motioned Anith over, and he examined the blade. The [Mage] could tell there was an enchantment on the metal, but Anith\u2019s understanding of magic wasn\u2019t specialized in that area. He was certainly not about to touch it, though. Neither was Earlia. She grinned at the blade, seeming delighted.<\/p>\n

\u201cBeautiful. See? Gold.<\/em> Just lying here! I can\u2019t believe the other teams aren\u2019t trying to compete with us. Let alone the teams that actually did the de-trapping! I asked Halrac before he left, but he said we were free to have at it. Either he\u2019s an idiot or the rumors are true and he came away with a huge score.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith\u2019s paw tightened on his spellbook. Halrac, Captain of Griffon Hunt. And one of the people who knew Vuliel Drae\u2019s disgrace. He bowed his head, but then moved on.<\/p>\n

\u201cPerhaps. I had heard that he ran into some good fortune. Well-deserved, I think, if so. But why would he be interested in\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

He indicated the metal blade. Earlia eyed him strangely.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s enchanted, <\/em>Anith. You\u2019re telling me you don\u2019t think we could sell this?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Jackal Beastkin paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Of course. But who would buy\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia shook her head, tapping the metal.<\/p>\n

\u201cEnchanted metal, nice quality, very fine edge\u2014I\u2019d say forty gold pieces per blade? Unless it\u2019s enchanted with some really keen enchantment, in which case it could be worth ten times that. We\u2019ll have to see\u2014hey! Anyone got something to cut with this thing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI have a mutton leg. Let me eat it.\u201d<\/p>\n

One of the other adventurers fished out a snack. After carefully stripping the meat from the bone, he handed it to Earlia. She lifted the bone and chopped at it with the blade. Both she and Anith whistled; the trap blade had gone straight through the bone and marrow. Earlia nodded, satisfied.<\/p>\n

\u201cYup. That sliced through the bone like that<\/em>. I\u2019d say we can get at least<\/em> six-fifty on each blade.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSix\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith inhaled sharply. Larr turned his head, blinking. Earlia grinned at the expression on Anith\u2019s face.<\/p>\n

\u201cSix hundred and fifty gold pieces. That\u2019s right.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor just one of those?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Incredulously, Anith pointed at the second trap blade Fea was working out of the pillar. Earlia nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, we\u2019re reselling them, not melting them down or repurposing them, right? If it was magical glyphs or something, the dust or inscriptions are worth a lot less. But magical blades are magical blades. Hells, you could even put this on a polearm and have yourself, what, a Gold-rank weapon? Nah, but a good Silver-rank one. See why we\u2019re so interested in these traps?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith did. He gulped and hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it wise to tell us this? And who would you sell these blades to? A [Blacksmith]?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust a regular [Merchant] who deals in this kind of stuff. You\u2019d be surprised how many people are willing to pay for dungeon-grade traps. Anyways, it\u2019s not like we\u2019re going to hide what we\u2019re doing. If any other teams want to take a crack at removing the traps, feel free. But it\u2019s dangerous and difficult. Not sure how well your team would do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia nodded to Vuliel Drae without rancor. Anith sighed. It was true. His team was specialized for a fight, or maybe defusing traps, but not breaking through stone and enchantments to get at them. But if they could hire a [Miner]\u2026he eyed Earlia\u2019s team and sagged. That was why there was an entire team of former [Miners], wasn\u2019t there?<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t take it too hard. You can make your fortune by finding treasure and collecting monster parts. Each to their own.\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia grinned and patted Anith on the back. He gazed somewhat dourly at her beaming face, but relented.<\/p>\n

\u201cAs long as you\u2019re paying us for guard duty. I\u2019m tripling our fee next time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBastard.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Human woman laughed. Anith smiled and stepped back as another blade joined the first in a pile. Earlia went back to her pillar and began hammering at the stone, breaking pieces loose.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe got the idea from the Horns of Hammerad and Miss Erin, actually. If a door <\/em>they found in a dungeon can transport people a hundred miles, how much would all this be worth? Hey, you idiots, don\u2019t fool around with those blades! You drop one on your hand and you\u2019ll lose<\/em> the hand!\u201d<\/p>\n

She snapped at her team and turned to Anith.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo, Anith, how\u2019s your team doing? Don\u2019t tell me you\u2019re that <\/em>jealous of us; your team was the first to find treasure in the dungeon after all. You made out like [Bandits], right?\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia\u2019s comment took in the rest of Vuliel Drae standing watch. Anith paused and looked around. Insill, Larr, Pekona, and Dasha all peered back at him with expressions ranging from guilt to wariness. Earlia didn\u2019t see; she was still working. After a moment, Insill coughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe, uh, we\u2019re doing alright. Yeah, we got really lucky. We found that mace on the first Raskghar. Gold-rank gear. Sold for a lot. And after that\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Vuliel Drae glumly eyed each other. Oh yes. After that. Their career as adventurers working around Liscor had been meteoric at first. They\u2019d found treasure in Liscor\u2019s dungeon\u2014a Gold-rank weapon worth thousands of gold coins! And they\u2019d encountered a mysterious adventurer who\u2019d given them her aid. Confident\u2014overconfident\u2014Vuliel Drae had kept exploring and inadvertently been the cause of the Face-Eater Moth attack on Liscor.<\/p>\n

It was a fact few people knew. The Gold-rank teams, the Halfseekers and Griffon Hunt, who\u2019d uncovered the truth, had decided it was best no one but Liscor\u2019s Guildmistress and a few others know. Not out of sympathy for Vuliel Drae, but to prevent the outcry against adventurers and to keep the Silver-rank team from being lynched.<\/p>\n

But Vuliel Drae had paid for their mistakes. From drudge work assigned to them by Tekshia Shivertail to a permanent warning on all of their records in the Adventurer\u2019s Guilds\u2019 private files\u2014Anith had no idea that was even a function of the guilds\u2014their team was still haunted by their mistake.<\/p>\n

Justly so, in Anith\u2019s opinion. The Jackal Beastkin had a strong sense of justice that came from his tribe, and he considered their disgrace the least of the debt they owed society. However, the topic was still touchy, and the silence from the rest of his team lingered long enough that Earlia looked up.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, the mace you got wasn\u2019t worth as much as you hoped? Or did you sell it to the wrong [Merchant]?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeither.\u201d<\/p>\n

Larr folded his arms. The taciturn Gnoll glared at nothing in particular, his ears lowered. Pekona, the dour woman from the Drath Archipelago, just gazed down, scowling. Anith cleared his throat hurriedly.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe sold it by way of Invrisil. The money finally got to us by way of Courier, along with some of the equipment we ordered.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWe could<\/em> have done Pallass\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Insill grumbled under his breath. The lone Drake in the group had voted for that. Dasha rolled her eyes. Earlia frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou got your goods via Courier? Isn\u2019t that a waste of gold?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot at all. Apparently, if you\u2019re rich, the [Merchants] will send you a\u2026what did they call it, Anith?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA catalogue, Dasha. They even paid for the Courier\u2019s fees.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor what we spent, of course they did!\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia whistled.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey must have heard you had money to burn! That\u2019s fancy. Free Courier deliveries? That explains your gear.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded to Vuliel Drae. Anith smiled a bit. He was wearing new robes. Not the best money could buy, but better than the common cloth enchanted with a weak stain-resistance spell. And Dasha had upgraded her axe to a mithril-alloyed metal she swore was ten times better. Larr had a few enchanted arrows, Pekona had a scroll at her belt, and Insill had enchanted armor and weapons. It wasn\u2019t a huge upgrade, but it had moved them up the Silver-rank hierarchy a bit. Earlia nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow much do you have left, if you don\u2019t mind sharing?\u201d<\/p>\n

There it was again. Vuliel Drae paused, and Insill piped up nervously.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe donated some of it. It, uh\u2014the thing is\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

He hesitated, guilt written across his face, and Dasha elbowed him.<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up!\u201d<\/p>\n

She hissed at the Drake. Anith coughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe donated some of the money to the victims of the Face-Eater Moth attack.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh? That\u2019s generous of you. I mean, yeah. I suppose we owe Liscor something. Huh. I don\u2019t know if my team would be down for that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia frowned absently, glancing at her teammates. Anith took that moment to give Insill a warning look. Both Pekona and Larr did the same, and the Drake [Rogue] bit his lip. His tail thrashed guiltily, but he said nothing more.<\/p>\n

Secrets and guilt. It wasn\u2019t what Anith wanted. This wasn\u2019t why he\u2019d left his home in Chandrar. But it was what fate had brought to his team, so he could only steer them with dignity and integrity from here on out. While Anith had wrestled with his shared guilt, he had concluded that telling other people what his team had done would cause nothing but harm. So he signaled to Dasha to drag Insill further down the hallway and let the conversation die out.<\/p>\n

It was boring work watching Gemhammer slowly dismantle the trap and occasionally use their Skills to begin breaking down the next room. Anith didn\u2019t even understand why they were interested in the next room\u2014it was designed to cremate anyone alive, a \u2018classic\u2019 trap made more sinister by the fact that the spell didn\u2019t shoot flames or slowly warm the room\u2014it would explode in a fireball of air instantly. That was until he saw Gemhammer carefully removing the actual spell-trigger.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou see, to write magic runes, people have to use some kind of dust or paint or whatnot. We can scrape it off if no one wants to buy the runes. It can be worth a bit or a lot, again, depending on if we can sell it wholesale without scrapping it for the dust. But the real treasure in a trap room like this is\u2014aha! Magicore!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia crowed as her team cracked one of the walls and exposed a thin tube of oozing liquid. The [Miners] scrambled for jars, scraping the precious, fiery molten stone into them. Anith could feel the heat of the stuff from here. Earlia crowed in delight.<\/p>\n

\u201cFire-elemental magicore. No wonder the trap room heats up so fast! Do you have any idea how much we can sell this for?\u201d<\/p>\n

Vuliel Drae glumly watched as the exuberant [Miners] began talking about potential buyers. Earlia waved a hand, shushing the lot.<\/p>\n

\u201cStop yakking and get to work! This is great, but also bad. The instant we start selling this stuff, we\u2019re going to have competition. More teams are going to make a beeline for this dungeon to strip the traps, so every hour we have on them is more gold we<\/em> pocket! Less talking, more mining! Anith, can I convince your team to keep this all secret for a bit of gold\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry, Captain Earlia. But you\u2019ll have competition soon enough. I\u2019m not certain we can compete with a [Miner] team as efficiently, but with the door open to Pallass, you can bet we\u2019re hiring our own specialists.\u201d<\/p>\n

A feathery Garuda appeared in the far hallway. Earlia jumped, and Anith whirled. Insill and Dasha waved at him as Bevussa Slenderscale, the Gold-<\/em>rank Captain of the Wings of Pallass, strode into the room. Technically she was just a Gold-rank adventurer, but it was an open secret that she was the de facto leader of her team among the adventurers in Liscor. But Captain or not, it was her Gold-rank status that had both Vuliel Drae and Gemhammer turning to respectfully greet her.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Bevussa. What brings you here?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith bowed respectfully towards Bevussa. The Garuda smiled at him and nodded back. She walked lightly, eying the [Miners] trying to hide the fiery magicore behind their backs and swearing as it burned their gloved hands. Earlia looked a bit nervous as she turned to the Garuda.<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain Bevussa, we were just\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStripping the dungeon? I\u2019m not trying to intrude. It\u2019s no one\u2019s territory since the original teams are gone. Don\u2019t worry.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Garuda opened her beak, amusement in her voice. Earlia relaxed a bit, looking embarrassed.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry. Sometimes in other dungeons\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s no problem. And you won\u2019t have to worry; there\u2019s a system for claiming areas you\u2019re working on. It\u2019s still first to eat the worm, but Gold-rank teams can\u2019t order you to abandon this spot. Am I intruding?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot at all. We were just finishing\u2014hey! Start packing that magicore! Bags of holding\u2014one jar apiece! What can we do for you, Captain?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Garuda nodded at Anith and Earlia.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wanted to find you two. I\u2019m letting all the Silver-rank teams and Gold-ranks know that we\u2019re doing a coordinated push into the dungeon again today.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAgain? That\u2019s the third time this week!\u201d<\/p>\n

Earlia looked startled. Anith just nodded slowly. Bevussa shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s just for teams who have the energy. My team does, and Keldrass\u2019. The more teams who go in, the safer. Usually. Let us know if you\u2019re coming; it\u2019s in three hours, and we\u2019re hoping to push into that Bagrhaven area. There\u2019s a buyer for their feathers in Pallass.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh! Well, if it\u2019s Bagrhavens\u2014no thanks. Our team will stick right here. Anith, we can manage without you and pull back to a spot near the entrance. What do you say?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Jackal rubbed at his finely-furred chin. He looked at his team, taking in their opinions in a glance, then nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf Earlia won\u2019t object, I\u2019d be pleased to take a position in the push, Captain Bevussa. We\u2019d like to do something active today.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Garuda nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019ll put you on the list, then. Oh, and you\u2019re paying a fee to the Lifwail Blades. They\u2019re holding the back lines and acting as emergency backup in case of Raskghar or that Facestealer thing strikes again.\u201d<\/p>\n

All the adventurers present shuddered. Liscor\u2019s dungeon had been purged of some of the main threats, including the Face-Eater Moths and Raskghar, but there was always something else. Over a dozen adventurers had already been found headless, killed by the last guardian of the dungeon.<\/p>\n

Anith knew the team on standby was good, able to fight at range, contrary to their names, but the thought of running into Facestealer was horrifying, even if Anith only had his imagination and Calruz\u2019s and Ceria\u2019s words to go by.<\/p>\n

Still, you could earn a lot of gold from a single day in the dungeon. And if you found a truly great treasure haul? You\u2019d be set for life. That was the calculation every adventurer made.<\/p>\n

Bevussa\u2019s voice was brisk as she looked at Anith. If she was afraid of Facestealer, she gave no sign of it.<\/p>\n

\u201cRemember, three horn blasts and you run for the exit. That means Shield Spiders are coming in waves. One long blast\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith interrupted crisply, trying to keep his voice level.<\/p>\n

\u201cFacestealer. We remember. Do you think we can trap him, Captain Bevussa?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Garuda frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe? He\u2019s never taken the bait so far, but that thing doesn\u2019t strike often according to\u2026the Minotaur. And we\u2019ve got Gold-rank teams. If we run into him, we\u2019ll pin him down and melt him at range. That\u2019s the plan, but I\u2019d rather stick to monsters I know are down there. See you in three hours.\u201d<\/p>\n

She nodded to Anith and Earlia. Then she beckoned towards the Jackal, and he followed her down the tunnel. Insill and Dasha stepped back, and the two had a quiet conversation.<\/p>\n

\u201cOne more thing, Anith. Since Halrac\u2019s gone and we assumed the Halfseekers were leaving, I was informed along with Keldrass about the Face-Eater Moth incident\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith\u2019s heart began beating faster. He opened his mouth, and Bevussa put a wing-hand on his shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t say anything. Guildmistress Tekshia informed us. It\u2019s important to have some Gold-rank teams in the field who know about any\u2026problems. I\u2019m honestly not worried. You make a mistake, you pay the price. You\u2019re not going to try destroying any nests again without contacting us, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course not, Captain Bevussa.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Garuda nodded briskly.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have a problem with that. What I do want to know is if you have a way to contact the other adventurer. You know? The Masked Warrior?\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith started.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s still been seen below? My team hasn\u2019t been in the dungeon proper for a while. We assumed\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cA few teams see her now and then. Human, wears a mask? Lends a hand to teams that get attacked? Never says a word? The Guildmistress wants to talk to her. So do our teams. I know the Face-Eater thing was an accident, but anyone who\u2019s survived that long would be valuable to know. And it\u2019s also risky having someone wandering about who might trigger an attack. We sealed the Shield Spider nest again, but\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She trailed off meaningfully. Anith nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe do not have a way to contact her, but she has found our team most of the times we entered the dungeon. If we see her, we\u2019ll let you know, Captain Slenderscale.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust call me Bevussa. Thanks, Anith.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Garuda smiled. She left, and Anith watched her go, a bit breathless. Now there was a Gold-rank Captain that he aspired to be. The Wings of Pallass were a good team, and Bevussa felt reassuring to him. He looked over as Insill and Dasha approached. The Drake bounced on his toes as he looked towards his leader.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did she want, Anith?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHm. Well, she knew about the moths\u2026Larr. Pekona!\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith signaled them, and Vuliel Drae converged for a quick meeting. Larr had, of course, heard it all, and the Gnoll was fretful. The rest of the team was nervous.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait, how many people know what we did?\u201d<\/p>\n

Insill looked panicked. Dasha slapped him on the shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cEveryone you<\/em> told, idiot! I said we should keep it secret. And now that masked woman\u2019s in trouble? Good! I say she deserves a lot of the blame!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe didn\u2019t know any more than we did. We thought we were getting rid of a nest\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Insill protested hotly, blushing a bit. The half-Dwarf woman rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re just saying that because you want to get in her pants!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI never said\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Pekona frowned at Dasha.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf it wasn\u2019t for her, we wouldn\u2019t have survived the first time in the dungeon! We owe our lives to her! Be respectful.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

She glared, the accented words coming out slowly. Dasha folded her arms. Larr growled.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf she made a mistake, she made a mistake, yes? The other teams should be curious of her. If it is just talking, let them. I am curious of her as well. She always smells of so much blood. She must be killing monsters constantly to survive. That is a strange person, no?\u201d<\/p>\n

Pekona played with a tassel hanging off the handle of one of her swords, voice defensive.<\/p>\n

\u201cSome adventurers are like that. She saved our lives\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf she doesn\u2019t have a beard, she\u2019s untrustworthy!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up,<\/em> Dasha!\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith raised a paw for silence. His team looked at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo one\u2019s asking us to turn her in. Our\u2026friend has been the source of much of our luck. And some of our misfortune, it is true. But we owe her our lives. If we see her, let us try to honor Captain Bevussa\u2019s wishes. But most of all, let us be careful.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Vuliel Drae nodded. They looked at each other, annoyed, disagreeing\u2014but a team. Not the best team in the dungeon. But not the worst. And they\u2019d be better. They checked their gear and prepared to go into the dungeon, to risk their lives for fame and wealth and power. That was the adventurer\u2019s calling.<\/p>\n

And then they glumly watched Gemhammer making easy money for three more hours. Some teams had all the luck.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

This was what the skeleton saw. Toren wandered the dungeon, a skeleton in the darkness, a shadow in the night. Or maybe it was day? It didn\u2019t matter. She was in charge. And Toren was a lot more proactive than he was.<\/p>\n

She asked the questions he never did. Why was there a dungeon here? What was it hiding? What secrets were there yet to uncover? All he did was think of Erin. But that was their duality. She enjoyed seeking the answer to the question more than the answer itself would bring her. So she flitted from space to space, sword in hand, gliding across the floor, avoiding traps.<\/p>\n

Rarely fighting monsters. That was the thing. Toren was a skeleton. As such, half the monsters she encountered didn\u2019t attack her because there wasn\u2019t anything they wanted. Bones weren\u2019t very nutritious and she didn\u2019t smell of succulent flesh or blood. And the other half didn\u2019t even seem to see <\/em>her. They walked past Toren, as if she wasn\u2019t there.<\/p>\n

Of course, Toren could choose to fight them, but she preferred to save her energy for the battles that mattered. Thus, the skeleton spent most of her time investigating new parts of the dungeon. She would carefully investigate a corridor, following trails left by monsters, eying suspiciously clean parts of the dungeon. Occasionally she\u2019d step on a trap and have to reassemble herself, but mostly she explored.<\/p>\n

See\u2014here came a Flesh Worm. A sinuous, crimson worm, as tall as\u2026Toren stared up and up and backed away as the gargantuan worm-monster swept down the dungeon. It had two long, \u2018arms\u2019 with palps that could snatch flesh off a body. And like the Crypt Lords, it had a trail of undead. Toren eyed the escort of zombies and decided here was an opportunity.<\/p>\n

She meekly fell into line behind the trailing undead. Some of the zombies paused, but Toren\u2019s appearance didn\u2019t matter. She was a skeleton and they were zombies, so they had little reaction to her. The Flesh Worm never noticed as it slithered forwards. Toren followed it down the corridor.<\/p>\n

She was careful not to attract the Flesh Worm\u2019s attention. They couldn\u2019t control her any more than the Goblin [Shaman] could. Not anymore. But even so, Toren didn\u2019t like them trying to impose their will on her. Worse still, if the Flesh Worms failed, they would immediately attack her with the rest of the undead following them.<\/p>\n

And where were they going? Let\u2019s see. The four \u2018nest silos\u2019 full of monsters led up to the teleporting trap rooms. And from the nests the labyrinth worked its way inwards, past designated habitats for monsters, natural springs of water that held aquatic things\u2014Toren wasn\u2019t willing to try diving again in case she was dragged down and stuck forever\u2014leading ever inwards, past those odd places where all the food was.<\/p>\n

The same food he<\/em> was so obsessed with getting to stock his fake inn with. He\u2019d gotten them crushed and \u2018killed\u2019 eight times trying to fight monsters for the food that appeared in designated rooms, only to learn that it disappeared after a few hours!<\/p>\n

Anyways. Toren huffed along, and realized the Flesh Worm was moving inwards, towards the center of the labyrinth. The skeleton paused as she heard the clank<\/em> of metal ahead. She peered past the Flesh Worm as it turned and saw it.<\/p>\n

A suit of armor. The enchanted metal warrior walked past the Flesh Worm, ignoring it and the undead. The Flesh Worm contemptuously slithered past it. Toren stared. This was further than she often went.<\/p>\n

This was enchanted armor territory. They occupied the inner part of the dungeon, mostly, guarding the city filled with the\u2026people. The ones with holes in them and no skin. That was the most dangerous area; the traps got worse and worse the closer in you got, and the patrols of enchanted armor and Flesh Worms and other monsters were nastier and more frequent around there.<\/p>\n

The inner city was relatively fine by comparison; it had no traps or monsters. The only real problem was that that the horde of those Infested people would tear anything apart and Toren had no desire to recollect her bones over the period of a week again after being scattered nearly a mile wide.<\/p>\n

The Flesh Worm was moving straight through the armor\u2019s territory without fear, though. Toren wondered if the creature was insane. But Flesh Worms were intelligent. Dangerously so. If it thought it was safe\u2026Toren turned, looking around. These corridors were taller! And the fortifications\u2014she saw suits of armor standing guard, and the Flesh Worm had to slither between defensive lines. Some of the enchanted suits of armor carried bows<\/em>! They were prepared for a war!<\/p>\n

This was a part of the dungeon Toren had never seen. She\u2019d never been close enough; the armor would smash her to bits. No wonder no one had ever taken the inner part of the dungeon, Raskghar or not\u2014fighting the armor on their home ground was suicide. There were constant patrols of them. Toren kept right behind the Flesh Worm with the undead. And it kept going further into their territory!<\/p>\n

Now there was clanging. A glow in the darkness. Toren paused, and then hurried after a zombie. She tripped it up so the line of undead behind her would slow and stared at what lay beyond.<\/p>\n

Forges. Battered suits of armor were slowly being repaired, the dents hammered out, steel patched onto steel. An armory of weapons and armor, the latter enchanted with life. They stood in rows, silent, some moving off into patrols or war bands. But the rest ominously still. Silent. Rows upon rows of them. Toren stared until a zombie bumped into her from behind. Then she jumped.<\/p>\n

The Flesh Worm turned. It hissed<\/em> in displeasure as it saw the undead following it hadn\u2019t kept up. It swung one tail\u2014Toren saw it shear through a zombie\u2019s neck. She edged backwards as the Flesh Worm continued onwards and moved to the back of the line. Just in time to see the nearest suit of armor pause with hammer in hand as it repaired its brethren.<\/p>\n

The suit of armor stared at her. Toren froze, and then put her arms out. She walked forwards, trying to open her mouth and groan. Then she remembered she didn\u2019t have any flesh. The suit of armor stared at her, masked, wearing clothes, and the nearest zombie.<\/p>\n

The enchanted automaton had nothing like actual intelligence. Even so, it processed Toren for a few more seconds before slowly walking past her. It must have sensed her undead presence, or else it had fallen for her act. Toren followed after the train of undead and Flesh Worm, metaphorically sweating.<\/p>\n

And then she saw it. Standing at the head of the legion of armor on a pedestal of its own. So still, so unmoving that spiders had built cobwebs that appeared to anchor it to the ground. But the creation\u2019s eyes burned. It still had presence. It waited, sword and shield in hand. And as the Flesh Worm and the entourage of undead moved through the grand assembly room, the general of the legion of enchanted armor slowly looked up. Its head turned and Toren saw a flash of something like intelligence from the burning lights in its helm.<\/p>\n

A guardian of the dungeon. Toren froze. She stared at the General of Armor or whatever it might be. It stared at her, and then the Flesh Worm. Slowly, it moved. Spiders fled and the cobwebs broke as it raised a sword and pointed at her. Without words, without life, in truth. But with ancient duty.<\/p>\n

And as one, the legion of enchanted suits of armor turned. Toren froze. The Flesh Worm paused, and then whipped around. It stared at Toren. She looked at it. She looked at the Armor General on his pedestal. She waved a hand. And then she ran for it.<\/p>\n

Arrows flew. Enchanted armor charged at her, and the Flesh Worm shrieked<\/em> as it and the undead raced after Toren. She fled, waving her arms and clattering her jaw indignantly. It wasn\u2019t like she was trying to\u2014<\/p>\n

A hammer smashed her skull in and the skeleton collapsed. Her bones rolled onto the floor and the enchanted armor smashed them to powder. Toren held very still as the alarm ended. After a while, the magic in her bones slowly returned her form. The cracks sealed, the powder reformed. Toren got up, adjusted her clothes, and stomped off in a huff.<\/p>\n

That was how she spent her time in the dungeon. She was different than he was. He lacked something she did. Well, she lacked it too, but she knew<\/em> it was lacking. It was the same thing, only there was a trace of it in her still. A distant memory. Sometimes, it was faded, and she, like he, only understood death. Killing. Leveling. A mindless pursuit. But other times she saw something. And that part of her woke up.<\/p>\n

See.<\/em><\/p>\n

The Antinium sent an army into the dungeon sometimes. A few hundred, or sometimes thousands, to cut down as many monsters as possible, or\u2014Toren suspected\u2014to map parts of the dungeon they didn\u2019t know. They did it by sacrificing dozens of Antinium for each step. The monsters would pour out from every corridor and the Antinium would charge on, through traps and ambushes until there were none left.<\/p>\n

Toren didn\u2019t know what the purpose of this outpouring was. She only knew it when she saw it and felt it. She heard the thrumming<\/em> of thousands of feet, heard the sounds of violence. And she felt the dungeon moving, changing, reacting to the threat.<\/p>\n

Flesh Worms slithered down the corridors. Dens of monsters, agitated, poured out. Traps exploded and unleashed their wrath. The armored legions poured forwards, as unending as the Antinium. Toren hurried down the corridors, ignored by the monsters, peeking around corners.<\/p>\n

She saw them. The Black Tide, sweeping forwards. Fighting. Dying. Soldiers and Workers, grappling with monsters, tearing them apart. Nameless Soldiers. Those without paint.<\/p>\n

But people, still.<\/p>\n

Toren paused. Why had she thought that? She stared at the Antinium. They were fighting, dying. And Toren, both Torens, were amazed by the battle. The Soldiers refused to die easily. They dragged their opponents down with them. If it took a hundred Soldiers to bring one Flesh Worm down, or hundreds, they paid that price. They were grouped up, fighting in narrow corridors, unable to surround their opponents.<\/p>\n

But they did not yield. They advanced. And he<\/em> reveled in the slaughter. He laughed at the death, the spectacle of it. She? She saw something else. Something more that she tried to show him.<\/p>\n

Look at how they died.<\/em><\/p>\n

The thousands fell away. The corridors were filled with blood. The Soldier\u2019s green. The Workers retreating, dragging bodies back to the Antinium Hive. But the Soldiers continued on. They had no home to return to. They had only one last order.<\/p>\n

From thousands, they were hundreds. She watched them fighting, bringing down nearly a dozen Flesh Worms, a score of undead, battling through exploding larvae, until the Shield Spiders poured through the tunnels, destroying everything in their wake. Toren and the last Antinium fled. And she watched them fall.<\/p>\n

Twenty three. And then sixteen. Nine. Five. And then, two. The last two Soldiers ran, fleeing the Shield Spiders that stopped to drag the corpses of their brethren back to their nest. The other monsters halted their pursuit as well. They had much to eat, or wounds to nurse. Even the enchanted armor seemed fed up with the slaughter. They marched back towards their garrisons.<\/p>\n

Leaving the two Soldiers alone. There they stood. Worn. Bleeding. Dying. The dungeon surrounded them. They would never return. They could not. They had been sent to die, to strike a blow at the dungeon. So the Soldiers had been dead the moment they charged.<\/p>\n

In the silent corridor, the two Soldiers stopped. The Soldiers stood, bleeding green, looking around wildly. But they had a reprieve. The spiders had fled. Something else was coming, summoned by the massive incursion into the dungeon.<\/p>\n

The Soldiers paused. They turned to look at each other and lowered their fists. They stopped. And one of them made a clicking<\/em> sound. The skeleton watched, her eyes seeing all. And what she saw next spoke to that spark in her.<\/p>\n

One Soldier opened his mandibles. Closed them. He made a click<\/em>. And it was soft. The other Soldier paused. And then it went click<\/em>. What they said\u2014if they were even words\u2014Toren had no idea. But then the Soldiers stepped forwards each other.<\/p>\n

They grasped each other, clumsily. All four arms of one, and three arms and a stump of the other. Toren thought they were trying to kill each other. But then she saw one step. Slowly, his hands on the other Soldier\u2019s shoulders and waist. And the other stepped with him. In perfect sync.<\/p>\n

They moved slowly, in a halting, rhythmic pattern. A swaying tracery on the floor. Turning, pausing. Twirling.<\/p>\n

And Toren saw, amid the faint glow and death, the way they moved had a purpose. And she realized it was a dance. The Soldiers held each other, the last two in their world. And they moved.<\/em> Not with the desperate last energy of the dead, but with dignity. With grace.<\/p>\n

They waltzed, dancing in the dark corridor in the elegant style of a Terandrian ballroom. And Toren saw it all.<\/p>\n

He didn\u2019t want to see. He didn\u2019t understand. But she saw. And it called to her. Toren turned her head. The dungeon had gone silent.<\/p>\n

It was coming. So the skeleton stood from where she was crouched. She drew her sword and advanced slowly.<\/p>\n

The two Soldiers stopped dancing as soon as they noticed Toren. They whirled, bringing up their fists. Toren held up her sword, her palm open, pleading. They stared at her, wavering. And then Toren felt it.<\/p>\n

She turned her head. And there it was. A staring head poking around the corridor on a stick. Toren whirled. She pointed. The two Antinium Soldiers hesitated as she turned and lifted her sword. She pointed again.<\/p>\n

Go.<\/em><\/p>\n

They hesitated. And then they ran. Toren charged. And Facestealer was there. It looked down at her. The bag of heads it carried trailing behind. The heads on sticks clutched in one hand, a grotesque collection. Toren raised her sword and leapt forwards. Not for victory; she knew that all too well. But for something else. For\u2014<\/p>\n

\u2026<\/p>\n

It took her a long time to come back from having her skull and bones crushed into powder. At last, Toren got up. Her mask was broken. Her clothing torn. She found some dead spiders nearby and managed to fix the mask, at least. Her sword was lying on the ground, for all the good it had done. Then the skeleton looked around. She was afraid of what she would find. But she did look.<\/p>\n

She found them two corridors over. The two Soldiers lay where they had died. Their heads were missing. The skeleton knelt next to them for a very long time. She bowed her head. And she felt\u2026as terrible as he did when he thought of Erin.<\/p>\n

And then Toren noticed one thing. The two corpses on the ground were identical. Not in every way of course; both had different wounds. But both were missing heads. And both had four arms.<\/em><\/p>\n

One of the Soldiers had been missing a hand. Toren looked up. She looked around. She searched. But she never found another pair of Soldiers, or one with a missing hand. Maybe the monsters had gotten them. Or maybe\u2026<\/p>\n

The skeleton smiled. And she had a winning grin. She stood up and stretched. She twirled amid the death and laughed silently. They both sought it, each in their own way. He, and she. And she found it in this.<\/p>\n

And in battle. That was true. But one Toren killed to kill. She\u2014did it for a reason. The skeleton drew her sword. And she went hunting. She had only one quarry in the dungeon worth doing battle with. He and she could agree on that, at least. They were a nuisance. And they had killed Toren countless times before. Now the shoe was on the skeleton\u2019s foot.<\/p>\n

She found the Raskghar camp after nine hours of searching. They had hidden well. But not well enough to escape a skeleton with all the time in the world. They smelled her, of course. And she was used to their howls.<\/p>\n

The Raskghar were already waiting for her. Especially the special<\/em> one. Toren halted in front of their camp. She adjusted her mask. And she moved forwards slowly, as gracefully as the two Soldiers. She was a [Sword Dancer], Level 13. It might not be enough today. It hadn\u2019t been the last twenty-three times.<\/p>\n

But she could try again. The Raskghar could not. And they knew her. Oh, yes. They remembered. The one standing guard snarled. Her voice was guttural. Desperate, rasping\u2014that was new\u2014and hateful.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou. Thing.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Raskghar coughed. Nokha bared her teeth, the glowing blade in her hand held up warily. Toren paused. She lifted the blade in her hand and tapped it with one finger.<\/p>\n

A new sword.<\/em> Nokha had destroyed the last one in their last encounter. The skeleton smiled behind her mask. Nokha warily held her ground. Behind her, the other warriors backed up, howling quietly at the camp already preparing to flee. There were less of them, now. Far less than when the Minotaur had led them. Far less camps too. Toren had played a part in that.<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave. Leave now.<\/em> We surrender. Tell magic-Human. Surrender. Surrender.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

The Raskghar was speaking nonsense. Interesting nonsense, but nonsense nonetheless. Toren tilted her head. And then she advanced. Nokha raised the magic sword Toren wanted so much with a snarl of rage. The two waited.<\/p>\n

Nokha coughed again, unable to suppress it. Toren leapt. And the Raskghar snarled and screamed. Toren swept towards her, blade slashing up in a two-handed arc. Nokha swung straight. She was faster and<\/em> stronger. But Toren had anticipated the cut. She let it slash through her ribs and struck Nokha along the arm. The Raskghar howled<\/em> in pain. Toren grinned. She could recover. She rolled, trying to get away to attack again later\u2014<\/p>\n

Too slow.<\/em> Nokha stomped<\/em>, crushing Toren\u2019s bones, smashing her skull with her foot over and over. Then she fled, coughing, howling a pained call to the other Raskghar. They fled with her. Toren lay on the ground, her body rebuilding.<\/p>\n

Darn. Well, it was worth a shot. And next time, maybe the Raskghar\u2019s arm wouldn\u2019t have healed. She was annoyingly intelligent, though. Still, that cough\u2026<\/p>\n

As Toren rebuilt herself, she decided she needed a bow. A bow and arrows might really help. But it was hard finding good weapons that didn\u2019t get smashed with her body. And could she even shoot a bow and arrow? The skeleton picked up her skull and had to fix her mask. Again. She sighed, but it was busy work.<\/p>\n

This was what the skeleton saw and did. But what she was really doing was waiting. And then, at last, the skeleton heard it. Distantly, in the way the monsters moved, the dungeon shuddered and adjusted. She turned her head. And she knew they were there.<\/p>\n

Adventurers. She smiled and ran towards them. Because she liked people. And they were always worth seeing. Protecting. And maybe her team would be there. The ones she liked.<\/p>\n

Her\u2026<\/p>\n

Friends? She liked that thought, even if she didn\u2019t understand the concept entirely. But that\u2019s what the Drake had called her. He<\/em> hated the idea. Hated it and them. But he wasn\u2019t in charge. And they were both lonely. So she kept the mask on. They could always sit in the inn later.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

A skeleton sat in a tiny bubble in the ground. A hollow depression of dirt, barely large enough to hold her. A coffin would have been more spacious. In fact, the crushing weight of the dirt trying to settle on her would have killed any living creature. The lack of oxygen certainly would have.<\/p>\n

But Ijvani, the greatest skeleton in the world and obviously, the only one with actual intelligence, was too depressed to care. Her magical robes were puddled around her, filthy and unwashed. An earthworm digging through the soil went straight through her ribcage.<\/p>\n

Ijvani didn\u2019t move. She didn\u2019t react, or move. She could have been an actual skeleton, the dead kind, save for the two dimly golden flames burning in her eye sockets. And her bones.<\/p>\n

They were black. Black and glossy\u2014coated with a dark metal. They were part of what made Ijvani special. Unique, in fact. But she didn\u2019t feel special. She was a sad skeleton. Because she was alone. Abandoned. Or worse\u2014would it be worse?\u2014forgotten.<\/p>\n

It had been ninety six days. Ninety six days since her last communication with her master, her creator, Az\u2019kerash. Ninety six days since he had reached out to her and she had felt his presence.<\/p>\n

He had forgotten her. That was the plain truth of it. Ijvani knew it to be true. Why else had he left her, his Chosen, and not called her back since? He had forgotten her, or replaced her. She didn\u2019t matter.<\/p>\n

So. How had she ended up in a hole in the ground rather than proudly serving her master? Ijvani knew the answer. In fact, since she could neither sleep nor forget, she dwelled upon it every moment of her existence, without any biological functions interrupting her grief. Skeletons were unparalleled at having pity parties. And Ijvani could name all the reasons for her despair.<\/p>\n

Firstly, she was inferior. She had failed her master, the glorious Az\u2019kerash. The Necromancer. The most brilliant, most powerful [Necromancer] in the history of the world. She had failed him by failing to kill Zel Shivertail with her brothers and sisters. Not only had he survived and forced her master to take to the field himself, he had wounded<\/em> Az\u2019kerash. And he had damaged all the other Chosen\u2014destroyed<\/em> one of their number beyond repair, Oom.<\/p>\n

Secondly, Ijvani had witnessed a horror worse than her own inferiority. She had seen\u2026her master\u2026the great and powerful Az\u2019kerash whose wisdom and intellect was unmatched by all the Archmages of Wistram\u2026lose<\/em> a game of chess.<\/p>\n

Yes. Lose a game of chess. Ijvani groaned in her pit in the earth. How could it happen? It shouldn\u2019t<\/em> have happened. But it had. He had lost a game. She had failed him. And now, thirdly, to top it all off, he had forgotten about her.<\/p>\n

She had already been in despair about points one and two. Ijvani recalled it so clearly. Her master had killed Zel Shivertail, albeit at cost. And he had retreated, calling on the remaining Chosen to teleport back with the Scrolls of Greater Teleportation that he had spent so lavishly to kill his hated foe. But he had been one short. So he had looked around and\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cIjvani, you will make your way back with an invisibility spell; there are no more scrolls of teleportation.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

The black skeleton [Mage] shuddered. Oh! The pain of it! The horror! Her master had looked around and named the least worthy of his Chosen to return on foot. The most expendable.<\/em> He, in his infinite knowledge, had looked among his Chosen and found her the least worthy after measured thought and consideration.<\/p>\n

Thus, Ijvani knew: she was a failure. Even more so than Venitra, who had failed to capture both the Human Runner, Ryoka Griffin, and<\/em> been defeated by Zel Shivertail. But Ijvani was somehow worse.<\/p>\n

Even so, that might not have been so bad. Ijvani would have walked through molten magma for her master after all. She had slowly made her way back towards his castle south of the Blood Fields. And then\u2026then had come her error.<\/p>\n

It wasn\u2019t disobedience. Ijvani cringed internally. Not really<\/em>. At first, she just hadn\u2019t heard her creator\u2019s voice in a week, and she had been tired of travelling south, hiding behind illusion spells and moving at night to avoid being spotted. She\u2019d decided, well, to stop.<\/p>\n

Not to disobey her master! But just so that he might contact her, to demand what had slowed her down. Because\u2026because that would prove empirically that she still had worth to him. Of course! It had been such a simple plan. He would contact her and no doubt be furious. But he would<\/em> contact her and then Ijvani could return without fear of going back to him and being\u2026worthless.<\/p>\n

So the skeleton had stopped. She\u2019d slowed her pace to a crawl. And the first week had been a grand, butterfly-inducing game of disobedience! Ijvani had hid herself, burying herself in the earth under the pretext\u2014if her master asked\u2014that she had been swallowed by a sinkhole. Buried miles deep, so she\u2019d been faithfully digging her way out!<\/p>\n

That was a logical explanation, wasn\u2019t it? She would never have dared to trick her master before, but he had lost a game of chess.<\/em> So perhaps he might not be perfect in every other way?<\/p>\n

It was just a test. Just a little test! To make sure of what she had been sure of\u2014that she still mattered to her master. That, in time, she could regain her grace with him. So Ijvani had waited. She knew that her master knew how long it would take her to return. So after, say, two weeks, he would begin to wonder, if not sooner! After all, she could be very swift when stealth wasn\u2019t a hindrance.<\/p>\n

That knowledge had kept Ijvani waiting for the first week. And then the second week. He\u2019d contact her and demand to know where she was tomorrow. And then tomorrow had come and she had heard nothing. But, surely, it would be the next day. Sometimes he spent weeks<\/em> working on a project, but even then, he could still devote some of his incredible intellect to managing his Chosen, giving them orders.<\/p>\n

He would contact her tomorrow. He was just busy today. Venitra had probably done something stupid again. It was a month before it had dawned on Ijvani how long it had been. And then she\u2019d been in denial the second month. Waiting, day after day, to hear him reach out for her. Then she\u2019d been afraid. Something had happened! One of his enemies had laid siege to him in the castle! But\u2014Ijvani realized that would have made her master call her even sooner. Unless she was so useless that even an attack by the Dragon wouldn\u2019t necessitate her presence.<\/p>\n

So that led her to today. And Ijvani now realized the truth: she was unloved. She was forgotten. So the skeleton sat. She could not weep. She didn\u2019t even really understand the action. In Az\u2019kerash\u2019s castle, there were no tears. The undead did not laugh or weep. Nor did their master. So Ijvani was sad without knowing how to be<\/em> sad.<\/p>\n

In the darkness of the ground, she whispered to herself. Ijvani\u2019s voice was a ghastly whisper, an echo from beyond. And a bit petulant.<\/p>\n

\u201cI am superior. Master loves me. I am unique. Master will call for me. He remembers me. I am\u2026<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Weak. Ijvani remembered Oom dying. Again and again. She saw the Drake crushing his mana core, breaking Oom\u2019s center like glass. She had thought she was so much stronger than Zel Shivertail! He was just a [Warrior]! A mortal of flesh and blood! But he had torn through the Chosen like\u2026<\/p>\n

Oom was gone. Not just broken, able to be fixed, but gone.<\/em> That meant Ijvani could be\u2026gone\u2026too. The skeleton shuddered, confronted by her own mortality. What would it mean, now that the Chosen were one less? How were the others reacting to Oom\u2019s demise?<\/p>\n

Not with satisfaction. Yes, the Chosen vied to be the one most loved by their creator, but the loss of one was a blow to their master. And that was a terrible thing. Moreover, Ijvani had liked Oom. More than Kerash or Venitra, at any rate. What would Bea, the lovely creature of plague, do with him gone?<\/p>\n

Bea was the one who liked Oom most. They had been created at the same time, after all. Oom had been the second-oldest, Bea third by only a day or two. Ijvani next. And then Venitra. Kerash had been there from the beginning and he was special in a different way. Nevertheless, they were five of Az\u2019kerash\u2019s Chosen, his special creations. But now they were four.<\/p>\n

Or was it three? Ijvani shuddered. Was she no longer one of the Chosen? Forgotten as she was, was she like\u2026Viltraid? She remembered him. He had been\u2026not one of the Chosen. But more than a regular undead. And she remembered how he had been removed.<\/p>\n

At the time, Ijvani had rejoiced in his demise, because he had been a pest in her eyes, inferior to her. But now she wondered. He hadn\u2019t been one of the Chosen. But her master had created him. And could it be that he had once been one of the Chosen who had\u2026?<\/p>\n

Kerash claimed he could remember\u2026more. More who had once been\u2026Chosen. And had somehow failed. Was that what Ijvani was?<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. No. I am not a failure. I am still one of the Chosen! I am\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

The black skeleton shuddered. She was a special creation! She had a nigh-indestructible body, the ability to match any Gold-rank [Mage] in magical combat! But\u2026<\/p>\n

She couldn\u2019t stay here any longer. But\u2014she was afraid to return and have her fears proven. Even so, Ijvani was tired of the dirt. Water kept trickling down every time it rained, and the worms were getting on her nerves. She\u2019d find somewhere else. And keep thinking. Her master might not not<\/em> hate her, after all.<\/p>\n

So Ijvani stood up. Her head was immediately engulfed in soft, earthy loam, but she barely paid it any mind. She put her hands up and began excavating the ceiling. Dirt swallowed her, but Ijvani kept digging, climbing upwards.<\/p>\n

A strange sight greeted anyone who might be strolling along the ground of Liscor\u2019s Floodplains. In a small valley, a skeleton\u2019s head suddenly popped out of the ground in a shower of dirt. Ijvani dug herself out of the ground and quickly swiveled her skeletal head three hundred and sixty degrees.<\/p>\n

Of course, she was using [Invisibility], [Suppressed Aura], and [Muffle], but Ijvani was well aware that she could be detected by the right Skill or Spells. [Greater Invisibility] was still\u2026beyond her, so she checked the surrounding area for any possible watchers. No one was there. Ijvani pulled herself out of the ground. Then she looked around.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere should I wait for Master to call me?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

She stared around blankly. Everywhere looked as equally pointless as her hole in the ground. At last, the skeleton began walking towards a nearby cave. It was as good as any a place to wait. Because her master would call her. Definitely.<\/p>\n

Tomorrow.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

In the Floodplains of Liscor were many unique sights of nature. The ecological marvel and nightmare that was Rock Crabs, for instance, or the surprising survivability of Ashfire Bees trapped in a cave with a limited supply of honey in their hive. Not to mention<\/em> the wonders of nature in the higher reaches of the High Passes.<\/p>\n

However, the most astonishing thing in the entire Floodplains from a researcher\u2019s perspective might be located in a humble cave and valley just outside of it. Because there, in the cave, lived a colony of Fortress Beavers, the oversized cousin of the regular beaver capable of creating massive dams as large as any castle. And just outside the cave, cleverly hidden in the grass, was a nest of Shield Spiders, the dangerous and numerous spiders who could grow to gargantuan sizes given enough time.<\/p>\n

Neither species was unique to Liscor. In fact, both were downright common. But what was fascinating<\/em> to the inner [Arachnologist] and [Mammalogist] inside every person was that both species were living in more or less harmony. This was an unheard of arrangement, given that both species generally tried to exterminate each other given the slightest provocation. And yet, both species were living in more or less symbiosis!<\/p>\n

Well, technically you could call it a non-aggression pact born out of a mutual war with a hated foe that had turned into a surprisingly profitable defensive alliance and trade agreement between species. And it had endured, which was even more surprising.<\/p>\n

Once, there had been a grave threat to the cave. A foe more terrible than any regular animal. Crelers. And they had infested the cave, as they had so many parts of the world and devoured both spider and beaver alike, preparing to unleash a massive brood in time that would eradicate all life from the Floodplains if left unchecked. But they had been stopped. Not by adventurers, but by a desperate alliance of beavers, slime, spiders, and a Gnoll with a wand. Once, a glorious battle had been waged in this very place.<\/p>\n

But such stories were old. And much time had passed since then. Anyone would expect the animals to revert back to their natures and resent each other\u2019s proximity. But that strange alliance had endured.<\/p>\n

Here was how it worked. The Fortress Beavers would helpfully (or perhaps, lazily) toss out all the scraps they had no use for in their caves into the Shield Spider\u2019s nest. And that included rats, foxes, other scavengers unprepared to tangle with Fortress Beavers, and once, even a wolf. The Shield Spiders happily devoured the lot and in turn kept the cave clear from larger predators\u2014mainly by trapping them in their concealed nest.<\/p>\n

It could have been a clever arrangement that tested the limits of animal and arachnid intelligence by creating a symbiotic relationship that might irrevocably shift the natures and cognition of both species over time if the right circumstances endured.<\/p>\n

Or it might be dumb luck. But the sacred bond forged in the Battle of the Cave had endured, albeit with cracks over the long months since. For in the absence of the Crelers, both species were reproducing with the bountiful spring, and cracks had already begun to form in the treaty forged between both species.<\/p>\n

The Shield Spiders and Fortress Beavers had both reaped the benefits of the era of fish and rains that had filled the Floodplains. The Fortress Beavers by happily fishing, the Shield Spiders by consuming the fish as the waters receded, leaving the more foolish members of the species trapped. And accordingly, both populations had entered into a massive population boom that meant they were encroaching into each other\u2019s territory.<\/p>\n

Several young Fortress Beavers had been eaten\u2014some by wandering into the Shield Spider nest, others by straying too close to it when the Shield Spiders were hungry\u2014and more than a few intrepid Shield Spiders had been smacked to death when they\u2019d crawled into the Fortress Beaver\u2019s cave. Faced with mounting provocations from both sides, both sides could naturally be assumed to go back to war. However, that never occurred mainly due to the one mediating presence that travelled from both cave to pit.<\/p>\n

The healing slime. And if a\u2026slimenologist were to happen across this<\/em> marvel of magical biology, they would probably be at a loss for words. Because the little slime that zipped around the cave possessed not only the ability to move at incredibly rapid speed, but to heal.<\/em> It was a small blob, barely two feet high, whose inner body glowed and shimmered with magical colors.<\/p>\n

It could heal. And because of that, both Fortress Beavers and Shield Spiders tolerated its presence. In fact, both species had begun to rely on the slime. Fortress Beavers wounded by combat with other animals would slink back to the caves and emerge healed in moments. Shield Spiders damaged while at war with other nests of Shield Spiders or animals would wait patiently for the healing slime to roll on by. And while the slime frequented both areas, peace reigned.<\/p>\n

It was a marvel. A peace unlike any other. Ijvani stared at the healing slime rolling happily out of the Shield Spider pit. And then she grabbed it.<\/p>\n

The slime made no sound. But every color in its translucent body instantly turned to purple and orange. It tried to speed away, but Ijvani held it up in the air and the slime whirled in place. The black skeleton held it up and stared at it. She eyed the mana stone inside the slime.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat a strange slime. You are not naturally-made. Did some [Alchemist] throw out their potions? But\u2026how curious.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

The slime quivered in terror. And its fright\u2014and the presence of the black skeleton\u2014awakened the Shield Spider nest. They swarmed out of the opening. But they didn\u2019t see Ijvani. They only saw the slime, hovering in midair, clearly under duress. So they swarmed towards Ijvani and ran into her.<\/p>\n

Of course, they bit her. The black skeleton stared down at the spiders as they swarmed up her robes and bit at them, and her black bones. The largest spider\u2019s mandibles locked onto a femur and hung on. Its crushing mandibles did exactly nothing to her bones. Ijvani went back to staring at the healing slime.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are strange. As odd as Oom.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

She paused. Then she hung her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cOom is gone.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Depressed, Ijvani put the healing slime under one arm. She didn\u2019t let it go. Or squash the slime\u2019s core. She couldn\u2019t do that to a slime, even if it wasn\u2019t Oom. And she didn\u2019t feel like letting it go. She missed Oom.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is a good place to be forgotten by Master. I guess.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Glumly, Ijvani wandered into the cave. She stared at the colony of Fortress Beavers and the wall of packed mud, grass, and bits of wood they\u2019d turned into a fortress. The Fortress Beavers stopped patting at the wall with their tails and looked up in alarm at the mass of Shield Spiders attacking the\u2026thing<\/em> in the cave. They saw the healing slime\u2019s distress and lumbered forwards.<\/p>\n

Ijvani stared blankly at the Fortress Beavers and noticed she was covered in spiders. She sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Right. Invisibility.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

She dispelled the magic and appeared as she was. A metallic skeleton. The Fortress Beavers froze. The Shield Spiders scurried off Ijvani in terror. There was more than a bit of unnatural power in Ijvani. More than a regular skeleton. The Fortress Beavers, who would and did crush errant undead that attacked them, backed up. The Shield Spiders scurried back.<\/p>\n

Ijvani didn\u2019t care. She looked around. Then she collapsed onto the ground, staring up at the cave ceiling. She hugged the healing slime to her, much like she remembered Oom doing.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaster. You remember I exist, right?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

The animals and spiders stared at the quivering healing slime and the motionless black skeleton. The healing slime tried to roll away. Ijvani held on tighter. It stopped moving as she reached into its body and gripped the mana core that was its life source. Then it just trembled.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaster, I am here. Your faithful servant. Do you remember me?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Ijvani stared at the ceiling of the cave. She didn\u2019t move. In fact, she was so still that it was unnerving. But there Ijvani stayed, as the Fortress Beavers and Shield Spiders warily moved around her, considering, weighing what their instincts told them against the evidence of their eyes.<\/p>\n

An hour, Ijvani lay there. Two hours. Three hours. Then eight. Fortress Beavers realized they could edge around her. Shield Spiders scurried in a large circle around the skeleton and she didn\u2019t move. The healing slime stayed where it was, quivering; the mana core was still in Ijvani\u2019s hand. She enjoyed its presence.<\/p>\n

It was to the credit of the Shield Spiders and Fortress Beavers that it took nine hours before one Shield Spider finally decided to overrule the warning bells in its head and scuttle forwards. It opened its mandibles, preparing to bite the skeleton in the face. It was how the Shield Spider reacted to every threat, so it thought the action had a chance here.<\/p>\n

The Shield Spider never got to Ijvani\u2019s head. As it got within four feet of the skeleton, it saw one finger rise and point at it. Ijvani spoke a word as she stared up at the ceiling.<\/p>\n

\u201c[Searing Flash].<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

There was heat. A popping<\/em> sound\u2014the spider exploded so fast it didn\u2019t have time to make a sound\u2014steam, a patter of falling parts, light, and the sound of many things fleeing as fast as they could. And then blissful silence again. Ijvani sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cMaster. I\u2019m here. Can you hear me? Master?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

But that wasn\u2019t how it worked. If she contacted him, how would she know he loved her? That was the quandary. So Ijvani lay on her back and sulked.<\/p>\n

There she remained. And the defenders of the caves, the doughty Fortress Beavers and fearless Shield Spiders fled as their ancient ally, the Healing Slime, was held captive. They might have dared an army of baby Crelers. But this?<\/p>\n

No. None could oppose the horrifying, unnatural skeleton who wielded magic. It was a threat far beyond even the Crelers. Despair filled the Defenders of the Cave, and they wailed lamentations to the sky. In a metaphorical way.<\/p>\n

Who could save them? Who could bring justice back to the cave? Only a wizard. Or perhaps, a [Druid]. So the people cried out, calling the heroine who had once brought salvation to these lands.<\/p>\n

And far, far away, in lands most distant, Mrsha the Great and Terrible looked up at the table she sat at. Her ears twitched and her head turned. The wise and brave [Druid]\u2019s head rose and her hair stood on end. Mrsha stood up, not knowing why, only that she was needed\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cMrsha! Where are you going? Just wait one more second\u2014the Election Day Pancakes are ready to eat!\u201d<\/p>\n

The Gnoll paused and looked over. Erin walked out of the kitchen with a huge stack of fluffy pancakes. Mrsha\u2019s eyes went round and her tail began to wag. She sat back down and made a happy signal with her paws. And she completely forgot what she\u2019d been thinking about a few seconds ago.<\/p>\n

So the skeleton lay on the ground. And she continued laying there. Ijvani was unhappy. Sometimes, she had to admit, even if she was a Chosen of Az\u2019kerash, sometimes it was really hard being the only sentient skeleton in existence. Venitra didn\u2019t count, obviously.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Bevussa Slenderscale leapt forwards and slashed with her enchanted shortsword. The blade cut into the first Bagrhaven\u2019s chest and the screaming monster retreated. The harpy-like creature flew backwards, talons raised, but Bevussa kept advancing. She had no fear of the other monsters swooping around her; her team was in the air and they had the Bagrhavens on the run.<\/p>\n

\u201cPush them into the trap! [Gale Wings]!\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa twisted and her wings flapped once. The Bagrhaven swooping at her screamed as a blast<\/em> of wind suddenly sent it and three of its companions flying. Bevussa\u2019s team of Oldblood Drakes flew after them, capitalizing on the moment.<\/p>\n

The monster harpy-women weren\u2019t idiots. They could sense when the tables were turned against them and the Wings of Pallass had come into their lair ready for a fight. The Drakes and Bevussa might have been outnumbered, but they carried magical armor the Bagrhavens couldn\u2019t easily claw or bite through, and their magical blades hurt<\/em>. So the Bagrhavens fled, flying down the corridor, intending to lose the fliers behind them.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeldrass! Coming your way!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa shouted. She heard a shout from ahead. The Bagrhavens tried to slow down, hearing and seeing the armored shapes, but too late. Keldrass and his team threw the nets up and snared the Bagrhavens in the lower-ceilinged corridor. The monsters dropped and the Drakes charged in.<\/p>\n

\u201cCut them down! Bevussa, two are getting\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI see them! Wings, after me!\u201d<\/p>\n

The Garuda led her team after the last two Bagrhavens who had avoided the nets. She flew through the narrow corridors, faster than her team. The monsters, realizing that they couldn\u2019t escape her, turned. Bevussa slashed at one, striking while flying backwards and kicking off the walls, the ceiling.<\/p>\n

The Bagrhaven screeched<\/em>, trying to bite her, claw her. It fell at last, not from any one decisive strike, but blood loss. Bevussa stared down at the dozen wounds on its body as her team pinned the other to the ground and finally ran it through.<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain, congratulations!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was just a Bagrhaven.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa modestly wiped her blade before sheathing it. In truth, she was a bit embarrassed. The Flamewardens had already dealt with the other eight Bagrhavens in half the time it took her team. But Keldrass was beaming as he cleaned blood from his axe.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood job, Bevussa. We apologize for letting the others get away. We should have aimed more carefully. Injuries?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Oldblood Drake was gifted with the power of fire breath unlike Bevussa\u2019s team, who were capable of flight. However, as often happened, the power of Keldrass\u2019 flames were hard to control, such that even the Gold-rank adventurer had to speak in shorter bursts, to avoid accidentally discharging his fiery breath. He also avoided looking straight at Bevussa, turning his mouth to one side as he spoke.<\/p>\n

Neither feature bothered the Garuda. She knew Keldrass, and so she only smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cNone, Keldrass. No problem on the nets. Bagrhaven are quick. I wish my team and I had your staying power, though. We\u2019d never have taken this nest without injuries. I can barely take one and your team got\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She indicated the Bagrhavens on the floor, who\u2019d been neatly killed while in nets. Keldrass laughed and a bit of blue flame exited his mouth.<\/p>\n

\u201cNets aren\u2019t very sporting. And we carry heavy armor.\u201d<\/p>\n

He indicated the plate armor his team wore, and their weaponry. Bevussa knew that was true.<\/p>\n

\u201cStill, if you wanted to, you could fry them in one blast, couldn\u2019t you? I can\u2019t help but feel my team\u2019s lacking compared to yours.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain!\u201d<\/p>\n

One of Bevussa\u2019s teammates, Issa, cried out, sounding hurt. The Garuda rolled her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m just saying, Issa. We can fly. We\u2019re not exactly great dungeon-divers.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but we can fly.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Zassil demonstrated, flexing his wings and grinning at the other Drakes. The Flamewardens on Keldrass\u2019 team grunted or spat flame dismissively. Bevussa sighed. Oldblood Drakes. The ones who could fly always argued with the ones who could spit lightning or fire or acid about who was best. And the ones who could do both<\/em> were insufferable.<\/p>\n

\u201cI just mean I wish I could carry something heavier than a shortsword.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy don\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass looked up. He was squatting by a Bagrhaven, plucking the glossy black feathers loose from the creature\u2019s wings. Bevussa squatted next to him. That was their haul today; Bagrhaven feathers were worth good money, and this nest was one she\u2019d be glad to see the last of.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, you know. Too heavy and I can\u2019t fly right. I\u2019m all hollow bones anyways; armor\u2019s no good, so I have to dodge or die. That\u2019s what they teach you at Pallass\u2019 flying academy. Dodge and strike. Wear your opponent down. Never go for a frontal assault.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh. I never knew that. Isn\u2019t military doctrine\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa smiled.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe have Garuda instructors. We\u2019ve changed how Drakes view aerial combat. You know our [Generals] love<\/em> frontal assaults. Well, that\u2019s not how you fight in the air.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGood to know. The brass understands that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey\u2019d better, or they\u2019ll have a lot more casualties than we need. But we\u2019re not in the army anymore, Keldrass. And I\u2019m not about to reenlist and shake things up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo aspirations to be the first Garuda [General]? In Pallassian history? You know, Gold-rank teams can instantly receive\u2026the [Captain] rank if we join back up. And promotions are fast. If you know the right people.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, but is it fun<\/em>, Keldrass? Why\u2019d you quit that fancy elite unit with your team if it was so great?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

The two Captains chatted as they stripped the monster corpses with their team. Bevussa slid the last blood-covered feathers into her bag of holding and sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s some good money right there. Not as much as we\u2019ll get from those trap rooms. We need to hire some [Miners] or something from Pallass. That Gemhammer team is already stripping the rooms.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHuh. Really? How much gold\u2019s\u2026up there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass frowned, pausing to exhale some smoke. Bevussa shrugged.<\/p>\n

\u201cBefore they noticed me eavesdropping? Few thousand gold in one room.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cReally?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet\u2019s investigate it. I had no idea it was worth so much, but Earlia sounded serious.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDefinitely. I\u2019ll send a [Message]. To Pallass\u2019 Guild. Get some insight.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa nodded. She straightened, looked at her team, and jerked her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright! Everyone got all the feathers? Back to the safe zones!\u201d<\/p>\n

Both teams moved in tandem, marching back down the dungeon corridors. Bevussa watched the markings on each wall, checking for outlined traps, navigating back towards the hole in the dungeon that the adventuring teams had climbed down. She and Keldrass kept an eye out, only relaxing when they were in areas cleared of monsters.<\/p>\n

They knew it was clear because the first thing they saw was a wall. A palisade, rather. It was made of metal and blocking a tunnel. It was one of dozens the adventuring teams had set up in the dungeon. This one was designed to let adventurers fleeing a threat bail over the top if need be; Keldrass and his team clambered over while Bevussa\u2019s team just flew. But Bevussa knew that before they left the dungeon, unless they were in full retreat, the teams would seal the tunnel completely.<\/p>\n

\u201cClassic dungeon tactics. Seal areas one by one. Create safe zones. Deplete monster reserves.\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass rolled over the top of the palisade and landed on the ground with a crash<\/em> of metal. He got back up and Bevussa saw his armor flicker a dozen colors. She grunted as she helped pull him up.<\/p>\n

\u201cNice armor. You got that from the Raskghar?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her voice was envious; she hadn\u2019t gotten anything nearly as good in the lottery. Keldrass grinned.<\/p>\n

\u201cMagical. I could walk through a [Fireball] and not blink.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, yeah. It doesn\u2019t make you any more agile. Come on, let\u2019s seal this palisade and see how the other teams are going. We cleared two corridors today. There\u2019s about eight thousand more to go, but<\/em> that Minotaur\u2019s map says there\u2019s one of those unopened treasure rooms eight corridors further than where we went. I don\u2019t trust his word at all, but if there\u2019s a chance\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass frowned at Bevussa as he helped the rest of his team over the palisade.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t trust him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, a traitor that allied with monsters?\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa folded her wing arms. Keldrass paused, sniffing the air.<\/p>\n

\u201cPhew, reeks in here. Those Bagrhavens stink. I usually don\u2019t smell anything but smoke. Anyways, Bevussa. Good soldiers snap. I\u2019ve seen it in the army. You too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa had to agree. About the smell. She waved a wing in front of her face, scowling.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s different. This was\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

The Garuda broke off. So did Keldrass. Issa was waving at Bevussa urgently.<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain! I just got a [Message]!\u201d<\/p>\n

She unrolled a scroll. Bevussa leapt over to her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is it? Facestealer?\u201d<\/p>\n

Instantly, both teams were on alert. Keldrass looked up, his posture tense. Issa shook her head as Bevussa snatched the scroll and read.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. It\u2019s from that Silver-rank team. Vuliel Drae. It\u2019s her.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Mask Warrior?\u201d<\/p>\n

One of Keldrass\u2019 teammates exclaimed excitedly. Bevussa frowned. She noted the coordinates.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo the mysterious adventurer\u2019s here, is she? Keldrass, you want to meet this mystery adventurer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe one who helps other adventuring teams?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Drake raised a brow. Bevussa scowled.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. I want to convince her to come to the guild. Or at least identify her. We still have no idea who she is. And from what I heard, she had something to do with the Face-Eater Moth attack on Liscor\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe\u2019s an adventurer. We don\u2019t pry. Besides, she could be Named.\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass grunted. Bevussa shook her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cHah. Named Adventurer? I\u2019ll eat my tail if that\u2019s the case. Er, wings. I\u2019m going to catch her before she runs off. You in?\u201d<\/p>\n

The Drake swished his armored tail for a moment before nodding.<\/p>\n

\u201cGo. We\u2019ll catch up. We have to seal this tunnel first.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGot it. Don\u2019t be slow!\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa took wing, calling for her team. They flew after her, disappearing down the corridor in seconds. Keldrass heard a snort from another Drake.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be slow. Lizard-faced hatchlings. What, do they not see<\/em> our armor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShut it. Let\u2019s get this wall up.\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass exhaled a plume of smoke wearily. He looked around for the other half of the palisade so they could anchor the wall and seal any monsters that might creep through. Then Keldrass frowned. He looked up.<\/p>\n

The ceiling was fairly high overhead. And it was dark, but Keldrass didn\u2019t remember seeing any murals on the dark stone when they\u2019d passed through last time. Only now, there was a pale ivory and yellow\u2026thing\u2026<\/p>\n

The Drake\u2019s eyes widened. The crawling bone-thing stared down at him, its face a mask of yellowed bone hung with scraps of rotten flesh. He opened his mouth, the fire building in his lungs.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbov\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

The Ceiling Crawler dropped on him. Four more launched themselves down at the Flamewardens, biting and tearing with their limbs of sharpened bone.<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u2014\u2014<\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s really good to see you again, um, Miss Warrior?\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren smiled. Of course, she was already smiling, but now she traced a smiley face on her mask. Insill smiled back. The Drake [Rogue] edged closer, eying the two dead Ghouls. One had been shot neatly in the head by Larr\u2019s arrow and struck in the chest by several arrows Anith had conjured. The second had been beheaded by Toren\u2019s blade.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou always seem to appear when you\u2019re needed. I mean, the dungeon\u2019s sort of your home, isn\u2019t it? We\u2019re really grateful. Again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot that we needed her! I had it all under control! Right, Pekona?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dasha called out loudly as she swung her axe into the skull of the last crawling zombie. Pekona made a snorting sound as she cleaned her curved blade; she and Dasha had hacked through the group of zombies following the Ghoul. Anith just sighed. And Toren smiled.<\/p>\n

Vuliel Drae had been surprised by the undead attack. Not too<\/em> surprised; they\u2019d cut through the group with Toren\u2019s timely arrival with no issue. But Toren had been slightly surprised to see so many undead. So had Anith. He knelt by one body, frowning at the loose armor it wore.<\/p>\n

\u201cHm. A [Soldier]\u2019s gear. And undead? The last expeditions ran into very few undead. I thought we had exterminated most of them already.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe some fell into the dungeon. Hah! Anyways, they\u2019re just fodder! Although\u2014hey, Insill! Check the bodies! See if any of them are carrying anything valuable! I\u2019ll pull the armor off this lot. We can probably sell it for some good\u2014hey! Pekona!\u201d<\/p>\n

Dasha protested as Pekona pulled her back by the hair. The part-Dwarf woman spun around. Pekona\u2019s expression was as disapproving as Anith\u2019s.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe don\u2019t loot the dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSince when? We used to do it all the time! Zombie corpses have chainmail? That\u2019s free chainmail!\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith coughed, looking at Toren and then at Dasha.<\/p>\n

\u201cI believe since we were able to earn enough to outfit ourselves, Dasha. It is about respect. It may be permissible to search their belongings, but at least leave them their clothes.\u201d<\/p>\n

The Dwarf\u2019s face fell.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, all<\/em> of them? At least take the armor and swords\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd why do I<\/em> have to search the bodies? I\u2019m talking with Miss Warrior here!\u201d<\/p>\n

Insill complained, looking back from Toren to his team. Larr sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re the [Rogue].\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSo? What does that have to do with anything?\u201d<\/p>\n

Pekona, Anith, Dasha, and Larr all looked at Insill. He wavered.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell? I don\u2019t like<\/em> searching bodies.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you are<\/em> the [Rogue]. There.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pekona folded her arms. Insill spluttered.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut that\u2019s\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren patted him on the shoulder. Insill looked around and Toren squatted next to a body. She turned it over and rummaged around. She offered Insill a handkerchief. He hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cUm. Well, I guess that\u2019s useful, but not exactly<\/em> what\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

The Drake glanced over his shoulder. Dasha tapped the side of her head and mouthed \u2018crazy<\/em>\u2019 until Pekona slapped her hand down. Anith shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Warrior, thank you again. But some ah, other adventurers have been asking about you. If you\u2019d consent to stay so they can speak with you, we\u2019d be grateful.\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren looked up, alarmed and intrigued. Adventurers wanted to speak with her? She adjusted the mask uneasily. Was her cover blown? Maybe she should\u2026<\/p>\n

She began edging away from Vuliel Drae. Flustered, Insill raised his claws.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, wait! They just want to talk! We\u2019re not trying to accuse you of anything! Or blame you for\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He bit his tongue. Toren looked at him. Blame her? Had she done something wrong?<\/p>\n

\u201cInsill, you idiot. You have the biggest mouth of any Drake I\u2019ve ever met!\u201d<\/p>\n

Dasha cursed. Insill flushed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI just meant.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you\u2019ll let me explain.\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith stepped forwards, bowing apologetically. Toren looked around. She heard flapping wings. And in the distance, what sounded like whispering\u2026<\/p>\n

\u201cAha! Hold it right there!\u201d<\/p>\n

A giant bird-woman<\/em> flew down the tunnel. Toren stared, lifted her sword, and prepared to slash. She halted as Insill darted forwards.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, wait! That\u2019s Captain Bevussa! The Wings of Pallass!\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren froze. The Garuda landed in front of her, staring.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, well. So this is the mysterious Masked Warrior all the teams are talking about. Hello. Bevussa Slenderscale. Wings of Pallass. Gold-rank team. Before you run off, mind if I have a word?\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren paused. She stared at Bevussa. A Gold-rank adventurer? She didn\u2019t look like much. The skeleton saw a few magical items at her belt, some enchanted leather armor, a magical shortsword\u2026she nodded slowly, eying the other Drakes who alighted behind Bevussa.<\/p>\n

The Garuda smiled. But she was watching Toren carefully. Vuliel Drae hesitated, but Bevussa was a Gold-rank Captain. The Garuda spoke briskly, peering at Toren\u2019s mask, her clothed body.<\/p>\n

\u201cSorry to bother you, but we\u2019d heard there was a solo adventurer in this dungeon. One that refused to leave the dungeon. I couldn\u2019t believe it myself. Someone surviving this long alone? But I suppose anything\u2019s possible. The thing is\u2014you wouldn\u2019t happen to be able to speak, would you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren paused. She considered this, and then shook her head. Bevussa nodded slowly.<\/p>\n

\u201cMute? Vow of silence? Cursed?\u201d<\/p>\n

The skeleton shrugged unhelpfully. She didn\u2019t like all these questions. Nor did she like Bevussa\u2019s tone. She liked Vuliel Drae and the little Drake standing nervously by her side. Not the Garuda. Bevussa sighed. She folded her wings and looked at Toren.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss. Miss\u2026Warrior? I know we\u2019re both adventurers, but let me be honest. Liscor\u2019s Adventurer Guild\u2019s Guildmistress would like to speak with you about some incidents in the dungeon. The Face-Eater Moth attack on Liscor, for one. We\u2019re not saying it was your fault! But you had a role in how it happened. And frankly, after this situation with the Minotaur, we want to treat anyone staying in the dungeon with care. Do you\u2026are you aware about the situation with the Raskghar? The Minotaur?\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked at Toren. The skeleton gave her a blank look and turned her head to Insill. The Drake hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, what happened was\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can tell her all about it. Above. Miss Warrior, it won\u2019t be for more than a few hours, but we need to talk with you. You can write, can\u2019t you? Let\u2019s go to Liscor and you\u2019ll be free to come back here\u2026or we could find you a team. It can\u2019t be easy staying below. Come on, come with us, please?\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa tried a smile and held out one claw-hand. But Toren was instantly alarmed. What had she just said? Go above?<\/em> For hours?<\/em> That would be death. She slowly stepped back, shaking her head.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? No? Why not? I mean, what\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren just kept shaking her head. Bevussa paused. She looked at Vuliel Drae.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo idea. But she never wants to go above. She does that all the time. Annoying, ain\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Dasha answered unhelpfully. Bevussa exhaled slowly. She looked at her team, but they were waiting for her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Keldrass when you need him? Excuse me, Miss Warrior\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren hopped backwards. Bevussa paused, and then she did frown.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have to insist.\u201d<\/p>\n

Shake, shake.<\/em> Toren crossed her arms for further emphasis. No going above. No way. Bevussa paused.<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain Slenderscale, it is<\/em> her choice. She\u2019s a fellow adventurer\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith murmured to Bevussa. She scowled at him and the Jackal [Mage] hesitated.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m aware, Anith. But if I don\u2019t get her to come with me, Guildmistress Tekshia will have my feathers\u2026Miss! Can you at least identify yourself?\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren paused and thought about that. She shrugged and then shook her head again. Bevussa snapped her beak.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright. Well. In that case, if you won\u2019t go up, and can\u2019t tell us who you are\u2026take off your mask, please.\u201d<\/p>\n

The skeleton froze. So did Insill, who peeked at her masked face. Bevussa walked forwards.<\/p>\n

\u201cOr tell me who you are. I\u2019ve had enough surprises from adventurers in this dungeon.\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren backed up. And now she had a hand on the hilt of her sword. He<\/em> was in her head, laughing at the situation and telling her to stab the Garuda. But Toren didn\u2019t want to. And yet\u2014she couldn\u2019t take her mask off. She couldn\u2019t go out of the dungeon. And she wasn\u2019t sure she knew how to write.<\/p>\n

All these things made her back away. But now Bevussa had a look of deep suspicion in her eyes. She advanced, only to be slowed by Insill and Anith.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Bevussa! Wait! She\u2019s saved our team dozens of times!\u201d<\/p>\n

Dasha coughed.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wouldn\u2019t say dozens\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey! That\u2019s our<\/em> Captain, normalblood. Gold-rank. Claws off!\u201d<\/p>\n

Issa snapped at Insill. He hesitated, but Anith backed him up, firmly barring Bevussa\u2019s way.<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain Bevussa, adventurers are entitled to their anonymity\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe can have that. But there\u2019s the situation with the Minotaur\u2014with Calruz<\/em>, remember? I just want proof she\u2019s not some half-insane person as mad as he is! Or\u2026or a Raskghar or something!\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa protested. Everyone looked at Toren and her thin frame. The Garuda sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, not a Raskghar. But you know what I mean.\u201d<\/p>\n

She pointed at Toren.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat reason does she have to be down here? Why not go above? It\u2019s too suspicious. There\u2019s insanity in challenging a dungeon alone, and then there\u2019s this.<\/em> Why are you down here, Miss? Why can\u2019t you speak? Who are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren had no answer. Well, she had tons of answers, but not ones she could give. And not ones that would deescalate the situation. She tried tracing a smile on her mask. Bevussa glared.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you mocking me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain Slenderscale, I\u2019m sure she\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith broke off. Toren was nodding her head happily. It was sort of fun.<\/p>\n

Insill choked. Dasha guffawed. Bevussa snapped.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlright, that\u2019s it. Mask comes off. Miss, take it off or\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

She paused as Toren drew her sword. Bevussa stepped back.<\/p>\n

\u201cLower it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren shook her head and lifted her sword. Bevussa\u2019s eyes narrowed. She reached for the hilt of her shortsword.<\/p>\n

\u201cCaptain Slenderscale!\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith protested, but the other Wings of Pallass moved forwards, suddenly tense. Bevussa looked around. She exhaled, annoyed and frustrated. She did not<\/em> want to do this, but Keldrass wasn\u2019t here being reasonable and she was out of patience. She tried one last time.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you won\u2019t so much as answer one of my questions, I have no choice but to\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

She stopped. The masked warrior was looking around, cocking her head. Bevussa scowled.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey! Are you listening to me? I said\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Then she stopped. Because the mysterious adventurer had held up a finger to her mask where her mouth should be. She was looking about, and looking wary. She turned, blade in hand. And then suddenly, Bevussa felt a tingle of danger too. Not from [Dangersense] or any Skill, but just long-honed instincts. She cleared her throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cSomething\u2019s\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She looked around. And then she saw the masked warrior pause. Slowly, ever so slowly, prodded by the sense that there were more undead really close nearby,<\/em> Toren looked up. And so did Bevussa. She shouted.<\/p>\n

\u201cUp\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

The Ceiling Crawler leapt. But Toren was faster. She kicked Bevussa backwards and the Ceiling Crawler landed on her. The undead instantly tried to squirm off Toren\u2014she wasn\u2019t a living thing\u2014but Toren furiously stabbed at it and the undead, sensing the threat, began to fight back. Bevussa flew backwards and Dasha shouted in horror.<\/p>\n

\u201cDead gods! Undead crawling on the ceiling!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWings of Pallass! At them!\u201d<\/p>\n

Issa shouted, panicked, and the team began to take wing. Bevussa unsheathed her shortsword.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Stay on the ground! They\u2019ll hit you in midair! They\u2019re jumping!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHelp Miss Warrior!\u201d<\/p>\n

Insill shouted desperately. He swung his daggers, stabbing at the skeletal Ceiling Crawler\u2019s back, but it was all bone! Bevussa hacked with her shortsword. The enchanted blade struck pieces of ivory away as Toren stabbed at the thing from below. It was biting her, sinking its claws and teeth into her cloth \u2018body\u2019. Anith, Insill, and Bevussa were all trying to get it off her, crying in horror, but Toren mostly just felt tickled.<\/p>\n

At last, the three adventurers tore the Ceiling Crawler off Toren and it flipped, trying to snare Insill. He dodged out of the way and it crawled backwards, unnaturally fast. It was bigger than even Larr, and there were three more of them, leaping from wall to ceiling, trying to pin down and savage the adventurers!<\/p>\n

\u201cGah! What are<\/em> these things! Pekona! Help!\u201d<\/p>\n

Dasha screamed as one leapt at her. Pekona leapt forwards and slashed.<\/p>\n

\u201c[Flash Cut]!\u201d<\/p>\n

Her blade went through the thing\u2019s arm and the bones clattered to the floor. The Ceiling Crawler recoiled and Dasha smashed it on the bony, gnashing face, shouting. The Wings of Pallass were fighting back-to-back, not at home on the ground.<\/p>\n

\u201cRetreat! We\u2019re fighting the wrong type of monster! Retreat!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa shouted at her team and Vuliel Drae\u2019s. Larr loosed an arrow and watched it bounce off one of the skeletal monster\u2019s heads. Anith raised his spellbook and pointed.<\/p>\n

\u201c[Repulsion Barrier]! Go, go!\u201d<\/p>\n

The wall of force threw back the Ceiling Crawlers for a moment. All the adventurers turned and ran. Toren bounded after them, feeling distinctly<\/em> miffed. What kind of undead were these?<\/em> And why did she sense a lot more ahead of them?<\/p>\n

She got her answer as the adventurers streamed back towards the entrance and came face to face with another Silver-rank team. Nailren and the Pride of Kelia. The Gnoll adventurers, most armed with bows, were retreating as well. The Gnoll howled at Bevussa.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re under attack! There are Crypt Lords! And something else! All adventurer teams, pull back! They\u2019ve smashed one wall!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere\u2019s Keldrass? We need his team!\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa shouted. Nailren drew breath as his team began loosing arrows\u2014Toren peered past them. Those were Crypt Lords!<\/em> The same ones in his<\/em> kitchen! She slapped her skull, vexed. Of all the\u2014<\/p>\n

And then all the adventurers heard it. Three loud, desperate blasts. They looked up. Bevussa shouted.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s the retreat! Shield Spiders?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOr just too many undead! Come on!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNot without Keldrass! Wings, we have to find\u2014oh, Ancestors. What is that?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren turned. And then he heard it. Faint whispers growing louder. Voices. A chorus of the damned.<\/p>\n

\u201cDoombringer. Bring us doom\u2026<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLord Tyrion! The Goblins are\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cRedfang.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho are you? You\u2019re not a Gnoll. You\u2019re\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s cold.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Dozens of voices. The adventurers froze. Toren stared at the writhing mass of hands and bodies, pulling the entire assembly towards him. The flesh-pit writhed, calling out to the living. Dasha paled. Pekona stumbled backwards, eyes wide. Toren wondered how it had gotten out of the inn. It better not have smashed any tables!<\/p>\n

\u201cGreater undead. Back to the entrance. Wings of Pallass, throw your alchemical weapons! Issa! Wand of Lightning! Now!\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa reached for her belt. She grabbed a potion, threw it, and ducked backwards. Toren stared as the other adventurers took cover. What was\u2014<\/p>\n

The whumph<\/em> sent the skeleton flying. She landed on her head, which was fine, and got up. There was a flash\u2014<\/em>lightning blasted past the adventurers, catching a Ceiling Crawler as it leapt. The Wings of Pallass were using their magical items with abandon. Bevussa yanked an acid potion from her belt.<\/p>\n

\u201cAcid potions, on that thing! Withdraw! We\u2019re making a stand at the entrance! Zassil, fly back and find the other teams! Rally on me! On me!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Anith was chanting, throwing magical arrows of light. Vuliel Drae held their ground as Larr shot zombies and Ghouls through their heads. Pekona leapt forwards, slashing at a Crypt Lord and dodging backwards as it spat black blood and swung at her. Toren wondered if this was somehow her fault.<\/p>\n

Probably. She looked around, seeing more of the battle, flashes of light from behind them. The adventurers were putting on a really good fight. The undead, for all that several Crypt Lords were leading them, weren\u2019t actually that much of a threat to this many teams. Toren didn\u2019t see a reason to panic.<\/p>\n

The fact that the many dead bodies of the flesh-pit were screaming at the living, calling out to them, didn\u2019t really strike Toren as an issue. The Gnolls crying out to the Pride of Kelia, the Human faces beseeching Pekona, the Drakes screaming at their comrades in the Wings of Pallass\u2014Toren scratched her head. Now where could she do the most good? Or\u2014maybe she could slip away? That angry bird-adventurer got on her nerves.<\/p>\n

Toren was just deciding to quietly leg it when she spotted something lurching forwards next to the flesh pit. She froze in place. And she looked back across the battleground at the lurching form. No. At her.<\/em><\/p>\n

It was Erin. No\u2014the zombie. Toren felt a hand creeping up towards her mask. She seized it, staring at the hand. No! Not now! But it was her! The zombie-Erin had gotten loose, and it was advancing on the adventurers! But it was moving past the flesh-pit, and the desperate undead abomination, looking for something to replenish the bodies melting under the acid and combined firepower of the magical adventurers, suddenly seized zombie-Erin with dozens of hands.<\/p>\n

No! <\/em>He was suddenly wrestling with Toren, trying to remove the mask. She grabbed the hand reaching for the mask with her own. He was trying to take over! Not now! She stared at zombie-Erin, flailing vacantly at Bevussa. It was just a zombie! It wasn\u2019t even the real Erin!<\/p>\n

But it was real to him. And Toren felt her feet carrying her forwards. She looked around. The adventurers were stumbling back. But Insill, darting forwards to hamstring the undead, had been caught by one of the hands of the flesh pit. He was screaming, sinking into the abomination as hands tried to drag him into the center of the fleshy mass. Dasha was running towards him with Pekona, but a Crypt Lord barred their way.<\/p>\n

Insill.<\/em> The funny Drake. Toren froze. She looked at him. And then at zombie-Erin, absently waving an arm and groaning. And Toren, both Torens, realized something. They looked ahead. And then at their hands. Slowly, the hand grasping Toren\u2019s mask let go. And it reached instead to the right. Nailren jerked<\/em> and turned.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren\u2019s hand slapped him on the face and snagged the buckler on his side. The skeleton raised the shield. He and she ran forwards, past the adventurers who shouted at her to come back. For him to stop. But neither Toren listened. For the first time, they began working together.<\/em><\/p>\n

There were zombies in the way, Ghouls leaping forwards. Toren barreled into them, shield raised. [Daring Charge]! He smashed a zombie aside, ducked as the undead turned their wrath on him. A Ghoul leapt, jaw gaping. Toren blurred out of the way and his sword ran it through the stomach.<\/p>\n

[Mirage Cut].<\/em> Toren tore the blade loose and ran past the Ghoul as Larr\u2019s arrow caught it in the chest, keeping it from rising. He saw a wall of zombies and hesitated.<\/p>\n

Attack? No! [Hi-Jump].<\/em> Toren leapt into the air and kicked off a wall. She saw a Crypt Lord turn and swing at her. She slashed down, cutting across the undead\u2019s body, but it kept swinging. Toren flung herself sideways.<\/p>\n

[Perfect Dodge]\u2014she braced on the ground and lunged. Her sword slashed through<\/em> the Crypt Lord\u2019s leg. [Sharpened Edge]. It fell, and Toren stopped. The kick to the Crypt Lord\u2019s face came from both of them.<\/p>\n

Closer. Insill was sinking into the flesh-pit, screaming in pain as the bodies inside clawed and bit at him. Toren leapt forwards. He brought his buckler down. [Shield Bash]. Toren heard a satisfying crunch<\/em>, and one of the arms snaring Insill fell away, broken. Toren sawed at the other. Insill, one of his arms free, cut at the other arms, sobbing.<\/p>\n

\u201cThank you, thank you\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cInsill! This way!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Dasha was shouting. She and the other warriors with weapons had opened a hole for them to retreat. Insill leapt forwards.<\/p>\n

\u201cCome on! Miss Warrior! The Flamewardens are here! Miss Warrior?\u201d<\/p>\n

He turned. Toren was still hacking at the flesh pit. He turned.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss Warrior\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

The masked face turned. She looked at Insill, and then shoved him. He stumbled backwards. Pekona darted forwards, hauling him away.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! Wait! She\u2019s\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Insill shouted, but Toren was surrounded by the undead. Bevussa caught her breath. The undead were being cut down on all sides, but the flesh-monstrosity was coming straight at the adventurers. And it was trying to pull them in like Insill.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can burn it down!\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass rasped. He was spitting smoke, his armor still littered with bones from the Ceiling Crawler ambush. He pointed.<\/p>\n

\u201cFlamewardens, prepare to breathe! One, two\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo! She\u2019s still in the line of fire! Hold it! Keldrass, there\u2019s an adventurer there!\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa yanked at Keldrass. The Drake stopped.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s she doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

Another Gold-rank team Captain, Bessr, lowered his wand and shouted incredulously. Bevussa didn\u2019t know. The masked adventurer had gotten the Drake [Rogue] to safety, but she was still hacking at the flesh-pit. Trying to pull\u2026Bevussa\u2019s eyes narrowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs she trying to rescue a zombie?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass stared. Bevussa hesitated. The masked warrior was<\/em> trying to save the zombie, heedless of the hands trying to pull her into the undead mass. Bevussa cursed.<\/p>\n

\u201cArchers! Protect that adventurer! <\/em>Keldrass, wait!<\/em> Take out the undead on the flanks! Pull back! Don\u2019t let her get sucked in!\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren heard none of it. Nor did he see the arrows that flew, covering him. All he could see was Erin. He began hacking at the mass of moving bodies, heedless of the hands trying to drag him in. He could see the Erin-zombie\u2014Toren grabbed at her, dropping his shield and pulled<\/em> as he slashed wildly. She came away rotten flesh tearing, light fading from her undead eyes. Toren staggered back. Erin? Erin?<\/em> He lowered her to the ground. Staring at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cFlamewardens! Breathe!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

Fire blasted past him. Toren didn\u2019t see it, didn\u2019t see the other adventurers throwing the jars of acid that seemed so familiar, or the monstrosity of corpses burning, melting. He heard a voice as he held Erin. The zombie was weakly trying to bite his arm.<\/p>\n

Right. She was just a zombie. But she was his zombie. She represented\u2026Toren stared at it.<\/em> It was no good. She was fading. Too damaged by the flesh-pit and the battle.<\/p>\n

Damn it. Damn it all. <\/em>He was going to have to get a new one.<\/p>\n

\u201cA second time! Inhale\u2014now!<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

This time the fire drowned out the voices of the dead. Toren heard a crackling sound, explosions of fat catching fire. He felt the heat and then hands gently pulling him back. He stayed where he was, cradling the dead Erin in his arms. He\u2019d worked so hard<\/em> on the clothes. And the hair! It was so hard to find a zombie with the right color hair! Not to mention the same species!<\/p>\n

The adventurers slowly regrouped, counting injuries. Not losses, thankfully. The undead assault had been quick, but not deadly. Keldrass\u2019 team was mainly to thank for that. The furious Oldbloods had burnt half the undead themselves, and Bevussa\u2019s holding of the line had ensured the undead hadn\u2019t even overrun them. Even so, they were all shaken.<\/p>\n

\u201cDead gods. What kind of undead was<\/em> that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa pointed at the remains of the monstrous flesh-pit that had been made of hundreds of bodies. She could still hear the voices, calling out to her. She shuddered; some of the greener adventurers were throwing up. The other veteran Captains looked at each other.<\/p>\n

\u201cI think it was a Wailing Pit. You get them in mass graves. I don\u2019t know. I didn\u2019t think they could move.<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDead gods, I didn\u2019t know undead could speak\u2014<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHow did so many corpses get in one place?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe they fell into the dungeon after the battle with the Goblins. Could be anything, but dead gods, I thought I recognized someone\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo recognizing anyone now. Almost all ash. Still\u2014anyone got more acid jars? Let\u2019s melt the rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I <\/em>want to know is why that crazed adventureress stuck around. She got Insill out, but why\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n

And then everyone was staring at the masked warrior. Some of the other teams pointed, recognizing her. Keldrass and Bevussa stared at the enigmatic warrior. Keldrass cleared his throat. Bevussa closed her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh. Oh, that\u2019s why\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

It was a simple picture, really. A tableau. There was the masked adventurer, nameless, a shadow in the dungeon. And she was cradling someone. A zombie. Yes. A zombie, but one she had risked her life to preserve. And sometimes you forgot that zombies had been people.<\/p>\n

Erin.<\/em> Well, sort of. Toren held the motionless zombie in her arms and bowed her head over the corpse. It was going to be such a pain to find another one. He didn\u2019t notice the adventurers watching him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, now I feel like a complete Lizardperson.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa whispered to her team. She shook her head, ashamed of her suspicion. Keldrass looked at the masked adventurer, a pained look on his face. Slowly, he took off his helmet. After a moment, the rest of his team followed suit.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou hate to see it. Think she lost her friend in the dungeon or in one of the battles?\u201d<\/p>\n

Issa leaned on Zassil, tears in her eyes. The other Drakes looked at each other.<\/p>\n

\u201cFellow adventurer, maybe? A duo?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cCould be one of the monster attacks.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cArgh. And no wonder she\u2019s not leaving. But it\u2019s not healthy to stay\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t talk sense to her. She nearly drew a sword when Captain Slenderscale tried to get her to leave. It\u2019s the shock.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa reddened under her feathers as Keldrass looked at her reproachfully.<\/p>\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know. I thought\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

The Drake paused. And then he slowly walked over to the masked woman. He bent down. Slowly, his voice rasping after breathing so much fire, he coughed and addressed her.<\/p>\n

\u201cMiss? Miss. Let\u2019s bury your friend. You can\u2019t do anything more for her. You found her\u2014you did it.\u201d<\/p>\n

The masked woman looked up, almost surprised. She let go of the body. Keldrass caught her, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. We\u2019ve all experienced it. Was she\u2014were you old comrades?\u201d<\/p>\n

He waited. Toren stared at him and then the zombie. Keldrass shook his head.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to say anything. But we can\u2019t leave the body. Burial might be\u2014once a zombie\u2014we could cremate her. With respect. An adventurer\u2019s burial.\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren had no<\/em> idea what they were talking about. But she obligingly let them burn the body. All the adventurers made a big deal about it, solemnly standing around and saying a few words. For some reason they expected her to collect the ashes. They even gave her a bag for it. And the bird-woman kept patting her on the back.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know it\u2019s hard. But you can\u2019t throw away your life. You understand? Just\u2014come with us for a bit.\u201d<\/p>\n

Toren kept shaking her head. She was prepared to run, but Bevussa didn\u2019t seem intent on taking her mask anymore. Toren saw some of the other adventurers whispering and looking at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cWe can\u2019t force<\/em> her. You know how unstable\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2014be worse to let her as she is. Staying down here?<\/em>\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe Minotaur did it. Look, let\u2019s get a [Healer]\u2019s opinion on this. One used to dealing with adventurers? She\u2019s survived this long\u2014I knew a team that tried to force it. Turned ugly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m really sorry. Again. But if there\u2019s any way\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa sighed as Toren backed up. The Garuda shook her head and looked at Keldrass. He grimaced, but tilted his head towards the ropes. Some adventurer teams were already ascending. Bevussa gave it one last try.<\/p>\n

\u201cAt least let\u2019s say we owe you a drink. Any\u2026anytime you want, we\u2019ll buy you a drink. Hell, we\u2019ll buy you ten! You want to come above, you can find us in Liscor\u2019s Guild, alright? Just send a [Message] and someone will get word to us. We\u2019ll take you to the best inn we know. Alright?\u201d<\/p>\n

She waited. And at last, the masked woman slowly nodded. Bevussa smiled. She held out a claw.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen\u2014friends? I\u2019ll look for you again when we return. You\u2019ll be there. Promise?\u201d<\/p>\n

The masked adventurer wavered. But she came forwards. And after staring at Bevussa\u2019s claw, she took it.<\/p>\n

Slowly, the skeleton shook the Garuda\u2019s hand. And Toren\u2014both Toren\u2019s\u2014felt a flash of\u2026warmth. No. Not warmth; they were dead after all and there was no biology to react. But a memory of it. Bevussa smiled and Toren traced a smile on her mask.<\/p>\n

He watched them preparing to leave. In the end, Vuliel Drae and the Wings of Pallass and the Flamewardens were last. They\u2019d stayed to try and convince Toren, but now they were going. And in the end\u2026the skeleton wavered.<\/p>\n

She would miss them. And he had never understood why. But today, they\u2019d been\u2026fun. They\u2019d killed the stupid Crypt Lords that kept stealing his undead, and the flesh-pit. So, maybe she was right. Maybe\u2026Toren looked at the adventurers and decided they weren\u2019t so bad.<\/p>\n

\u201cDead gods, but I do need a drink. And I\u2019ll buy a round for everyone. My treat.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa was talking to the others, glancing back at Toren now and then. She wished she could join Bevussa. But outside was\u2026Toren turned away, sighing inwardly. Bevussa sighed too, watching her leave. She shook her head. Each adventurer made their choice. She only hoped she\u2019d see that brave soul again. By her side, Zassil looked up at his Captain.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat is <\/em>the best inn in Liscor, Keldrass? Or bar? Wishdrinks? I know you\u2019re not thinking of the Tailless Thief, Bevussa\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHey! I like that inn.\u201d<\/p>\n

Bevussa rolled her eyes at Keldrass as he protested mildly.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause you\u2019re a Drake<\/em>, Keldrass. That [Innkeeper] treats you like royalty and anyone who\u2019s not a Drake like dirt. Please, there\u2019s only one inn I\u2019m thinking of\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh come on. She doesn\u2019t even have a good selection of alcohols.\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass protested. Bevussa snorted and turned to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s The Wandering Inn for sure. Sure, it\u2019s not the best<\/em> cooking, but Miss Solstice\u2019s got all those new foods. Sure, the variety\u2019s less than what you can get at some other inns, but<\/em> there\u2019s the plays and<\/em> the magic door and<\/em> the fact that there\u2019s always something interesting going on\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

She turned back to the tunnel. But the masked woman was gone. She\u2019d vanished while Bevussa had been speaking. Damn. Bevussa had been hoping to lure her with the promise of a hot meal, but the masked woman was truly\u2026the Garuda shook her head as she turned sadly back to Keldrass.<\/p>\n

\u201cGah. I hate to see it. We have to do something for her. Carefully. Let\u2019s get that drink, Keldrass, figure something out.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou can\u2019t save them all, Bevussa.\u201d<\/p>\n

Keldrass patted her on the wing-arm. Together they left the dungeon. The adventurers left, abandoning the horrors of below for recuperation.<\/p>\n

And in the dungeon, Toren lay on his back. He jerked\u2014looked around. Why was he lying down?<\/p>\n

Oh. He\u2019d fainted. He\u2019d heard \u2018The Wandering Inn\u2019. And then he\u2019d heard\u2026the skeleton stared up at the ceiling. He\u2019d heard that wrong. Hadn\u2019t he?<\/p>\n

Solstice?<\/p>\n

\u2026Erin?<\/em><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n

Previous Chapter<\/a> Next Chapter<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cToren? Toren. Where have you gone, you silly skeleton?\u201d A young woman called out cheerfully in an old inn. She stood by a table, turning left and then right aimlessly. She had a blank, vacuous look on her face. But her voice was clear. \u201cToren! Get over here!\u201d At her words, a skeleton obediently trotted […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":52856846,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"_searchwp_excluded":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"patreon-level":0,"patreon_level":0,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[11693086,349],"tags":[],"twi_volume":[11693135],"twi_collection":[],"class_list":["post-6932","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-volume-6","category-writing"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n6.48 T - The Wandering Inn<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/wanderinginn.com\/2019\/10\/12\/6-48-t\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"6.48 T\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"\u201cToren? Toren. Where have you gone, you silly skeleton?\u201d A young woman called out cheerfully in an old inn. She stood by a table, turning left and then right aimlessly. She had a blank, vacuous look on her face. But her voice was clear. \u201cToren! 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