Fearing that the soft gray moss rope the bat people used would break under my weight, I stripped down to my original clothes for the first time in a long while. Though I was unwilling to part with my daggers and magical belt. Fortunately, there was enough slack on the line for me to wrap all my stuff into several neat bundles. I left the wrapped packages on the roof of the ziggurat. The plan was for me to climb up after Sir Galahand, then pull everything up behind us.

It worked rather well.

Galahand and I carefully made our way upward, but I didn’t attempt any of my usual acrobatics. If the rope broke, I’d have been stuck in the necropolis. That just wasn’t worth the risk. The climb was effortless for me, and I went up fifty feet so smoothly that it would have brought a tear to a high school gym teacher’s eye had they been there to witness it.

Meanwhile, the opening to the cavern above was a bit of a tight squeeze. I was thankful that I took my armor off, or it would have gotten seriously scuffed. The lankier bat things probably didn’t have as much of an issue as I did.

Although I am no geologist, I theorized that the small opening resulted from thousands of years of water erosion. Which, I suppose, meant that the bat people had only stumbled upon the Ossuary. No one, even primitive animal people, would have created an opening so crooked and uncomfortable intentionally.

The upper floor led to an area that was a regular-looking cave. For once, there were no interred corpses or creepy death gods looking down on me. Instead, there was musty mildew, slow dripping water, and a forest of stalactites. I found the rope I’d ascended tied in a simple knot around a mundane column that had formed between a stalactite and a stalagmite.

Before moving forward to explore, I pulled up my gear and got dressed for battle again. My leather armor felt great to wear, giving me a familiar sense of mental security along with the physical. After that, I packed my remaining things neatly back up. I even took the rope of dubious quality, wrapping it in a circle as if it were a garden hose and stuffing it into my backpack. It was always good to have a rope.

Sir Galahand crawled along the ceiling as I carefully explored the immediate area, stopping to listen every few feet. I held one of the crude spears at the ready, having the spare in a makeshift sheath next to my bastard sword.

Opposite the hole I’d entered, there was a wall leading up to another cavern. The climb looked difficult and slimy with water and earthy scented moss, but still better than the other exit. A tiny crack at the base of another wall had a crawl space that potentially led somewhere. But I had absolutely no intention of trying to go that route unless I had to. Claustrophobia wasn’t really a problem for me, being undead and all. Still, I didn’t fancy scraping around on the ground like a dirty worm. Especially after I just got dressed.

Together, Galahand and I climbed again, this time for only around twenty feet. As I made the slippery ascent, I wondered just how deep under the earth I actually was. Between the sprawling complex that was the Ossuary, and now this network of caves, I hoped I would find a route to the surface soon. The people of Valbryde really needed to know that a vast host of undead would soon emerge to eat their faces off. Probably other body parts, too.

I slipped off of my hand grips several times, but with Rigor Mortis, I never felt in danger of falling. The key was to make sure I always locked one hand in on a safe grip before trying for a more risky handhold. My booted feet never felt secure, but I was strong enough to leave them dangling.

Whatever it was that I expected I would find the next cavern over wasn’t what I found. A lush green and gray fungal jungle was the only way I could describe the scene I encroached upon.

Mushrooms and plants of disturbing variety grew along the ground, walls, and roof of the sprawling cave. Red capped ones with yellow bodies sprouted in random heights, looking like steps created by a mad carpenter. Black moss hung from stalactites with glowing golden bugs crawling inside of it, giving off an excellent imitation of the night sky. Between them was a tangle of vines with multi-colored flowers. Pale white ferns blocked off huge sections of the fungle with their giant leaves. Along the cavern ground grew so many varieties of plants and fungi that it looked like a rainbow.

And speaking of the ground, the usual stone I expected to find was absent. Instead, loamy brown earth spread out for as far as I could see.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

The smells of the fungal jungle, henceforth called the fungle, were hard to explain. Airy spores gave off scents that reminded me of oregano and, maybe, fennel. More subtle aromas mixed in, and the result was like an experiment with a kitchen spice rack. I didn’t find it unpleasant.

The wildness of the place filled me with an indescribable joy and I couldn’t help but chuckle. I felt like an explorer in some untamed remote corner of the world. Doubtless, some of the flora were priceless treasures to an alchemist. Maybe I’d even find the secret ingredient to my ancient thunder goat spray cologne!

Then a hot pink grub the size of my arm shot acid at me.

I hadn’t even noticed the bugger blending in on top of a red capped mushroom, but I sure saw the sudden green stream of liquid flying my way. With Enhanced Agility, I rolled away from most of the attack, but a smattering of the corroding fluid landed on the shield that hung from my right hip.

Well, if I had to have an item dipped in acid, that would be it.

Sir Galahand practically flew at the creature in a blur and diced the grub to ribbons before I’d decided what I would do to it. A swelling of mana filled me from its kill, which I found interesting. I couldn’t recall getting mana from a minion before.

I guess because Skelebro was never really one of my minions, I never got mana for its kills? It makes sense, because Galahand only lives as long as I do, whereas the Skeleton Knight would live its best life should I have kicked the bucket.

I picked my way into the fungle, stopping to look over the diced up maggot and my gore covered minion. A nearby fern leaf provided a suitable rag to clean off señor sticky fingers. Using the stem of the same leaf, I poked around the innards of the little monster, but found nothing interesting. Not that I expected I would—it was just fun to pretend I knew what I was doing.

If only I had a monocle, to complete the image.

Not too long after, I found out that those big mushrooms didn’t support my weight well. The first one I jumped on broke apart immediately, leaving me covered in damp shroom juice and styrofoam-like fibers. I packed a few pieces of the toadstool into one of my spare side pockets on my backpack.

My next encounter with the exotic was a gray furred monkey with two antennae growing out of its head. The creature watched me while hanging from the webwork of vines that grew in-between several stalactites. I tried waving at the primate and talking to it, but all it did was stare like a creep. When that didn’t get me anywhere, I threw dirt upward and sent it scrambling away. It talked a lot of shit after that, screeching and jumping up and down in indignation. I sent Sir Galahand to paralyze the annoying beast, and that resulted in a hysterical Tom and Jerry style chase across the vine web that had me laughing for half an hour. Eventually, the creature wore itself out, and I decided against paralyzing it, reasoning that I’d made my point.

Strangely, the bugmonkey, which is what I temporarily named it, took the chase as an offer of friendship with Galahand. The goofy creature followed us around, trying to yank on my minion’s fingers before sprinting away.

While the game of tag ran its course up top, I continued my cautious examination of the surrounding wonders. I found a strange blue grass that wavered in the air a foot off the ground. When I tried to pluck a few strands, the nearby patch reached out to grab me. The experience freaked me out, and I went the long way around the little area it grew in.

I ended up picking six fruits that looked like miniature tie-dyed hand grenades growing on a green tree. Of course, I didn’t know how long the weird pomes would last in my bag, but I didn’t really lose anything by trying to take it.

The constant water dripping from the canopy of earth above us made me suspect we were near the Gosson river. It was a wide river believed to go all the way across the continent, running past Valbryde before emptying into the Valdradic sea fifty miles to the south. River travel wasn’t as safe as land travel because it was too difficult to create permanent monster wards. Nonetheless, the waterway was still a major source of trade, and ‌its presence meant I was likely going to exit outside the city.

Though I couldn’t exclude the possibility that the water was simply from a recent downpour and I was nowhere near the river. Whatever the case, I knew I was still somewhere near the city.

A familiar screeching sound from above arrested my attention, and I saw the playful primate bare its fangs, then dart up a stalactite and into a crevice. I couldn’t see what had alarmed the rascal, but I took its warning seriously. Directing Galahand to hide in the shadows above, I followed suit, concealing myself in the dark of an oversized fern.

Before long, the cause of trouble revealed itself to be a swarm of foot sized grasshoppers with the upper torsos of elves. My Hear Heartbeat triggered before I spotted them, but the sound was so faint I might not have noticed if I hadn’t been alert. They leapt on top of the flora, searching the area with multi-faceted bug eyes. Each carried a tiny spear made of roots. And while I didn’t feel seriously threatened by the bugmen, I also didn’t see the need to engage them in a fight. Even though I suspected they were looking for me.

Trusting in my ability to remain hidden, I settled in to watch and plan what I should do next.