Gehaffrey walked up to the large bookshelf, smiled, and waggled an eyebrow over the living wood on his face. Then, he grasped a particularly old-looking book titled A Penchance for Copious Moons and yanked on it like it was a pullcord. With a snap and a creek, a wall in the basement started to crawl to the side, opening up a small, dark passage lit only by faint, ever-burning torchlight courtesy of Fire Elementals International Incorporated. Gehaffrey only remembered that he'd gotten those nice torches from Fire Elementals International Incorportated because of the enormous stickers emblazoned on each one that were nigh impossible to removed. Indeed, Gehaffrey had made good efforts to try - but every one had left the living wood on his hands sore and brittle, which was never a good sign. They were, assumedly, difficult or perhaps impossible to remove by design.

Regardless, Gehaffrey was followed in step down the staircase and to the study by Brahdley, Philhip (who was helping Brahd), Sahdi (who was helping Philhip), the snobby man who nobody liked, and the strange blank fellow in the poofy, gray garb. It was dusty and drab, and there was a skeleton sitting there in an armchair with a robe on and a churchwarden pipe in its mouth, all done up as if it had been reading a novel when they arrived. And that was because the skeleton had been reading a novel when they arrived. Its name was Frank.

"Well, well, bustle my brittle bones! Look who it is! Top of the morning, chaps! This is, what is this? A fine how do you do, eh? Sure, just come barging on in to my study, I don't mind an iota I don't, I'm not particularly irked at all I tell you! Gehaff, how've you been my good lad?" Frank smiled a toothy grin, as he always did, and puffed on the pipe. The room tone of his tobacco was sweet and aromatic, and not at all unpleasant. "What brings you lot in here today? Awful lot of you in my study, I'm a little worried you may be a little cramped what with how little elbow room we've got, but hopefully that's no big deal."

"Hello there, Frank," said Gehaffrey with a sigh. He did not really like Frank, as the skeleton was generally just difficult to deal with and had a bit of an overly outgoing and upbeat personality that just kind rubbed against his mind like sandpaper on a bald kitten, but this was, unfortunately, a necessary evil at this point. The good thing, of course, was that Frank knew the study like the back of his hand bones. The bad news was that in order to find anything in the study you had to talk to Frank.

Gehaffrey had been very surprised to find Frank down in the study when he originally discovered the hidden passageway by attempting to check out that ever mysterious novel A Penchance for Copious Moons that, of course, ended up not even being a real book as much as a trigger for the study to reveal itself. Frank had been sitting there, much like he was now except he had been wearing as nice cardigan. Regardless, he'd been at that moment as undead as ever. Gehaffrey had immediately pulled out his concealed crossbow, under the impression that Frank was some sort of crypt guardian that was guarding the restaurant's extra, hidden square footage. However, Frank had quickly put that notion to rest by offering Gehaffrey tea, as he always did, and putting on his spectacles - something Frank himself admitted were an affectation since he no longer had eyes to look through them - while explaining that he had, long ago, been a tauman by the name of Franklin Forscythe the Fifth. More than adept at [skills] and magic, he'd often studied of bridges between worlds, and found before he died that the premise of being able to travel between many different universal planes as a spirit was frankly offputting, that is to say, it left Frank feeling quite put off to think about. With that understanding established, Frank found a way to make a small perforation, not a big deal, it was really harmless, just a small perforation that would allow him to, on his death, slip right back into the world of the living and stay there indefinitely. The problem, of course, was that the method he utilized was the same one used by blood hungry warmongers to turn themselves into undead warriors - it was not a terribly unknown method of life extension, but it was not popular as usually people who took this course of action were immediately filled with an unsatiable thirst for carnage and bloodshed, and as a result anyone who turned themself into an undead skeleton on death was immediately slaughtered so as to protect the greater interests of all taumanity. Frank had skirted this issue for the better half of five centuries by staying locked in the study, a room of his own creation and design, that was intentionally teeming with, in Frank's own words, enough books to last five centuries, after which Frank had guessed the silly prejudices against undead skeletons would be long passed and he'd be able to, at once, emerge from his study a well-educated, stunning specimen of skeletonship that would indeed be able to integrate back into society as if he'd never died, or, more aptly, as if he'd never lived as anything but a tremendously thoughtful, friendly, and intelligent skeleton who was more of an asset to people undead than he would've been had he been destroyed. Unfortunately, according to Gehaffrey, Frank hadn't been at all right about this, and with every passing century the prejudice against undead skeletons only got worse to the point that he was becoming increasingly convinced he'd never get to leave the study unless he wanted to die. He'd already started over with some of the books he'd read the first century he'd been locked away down there. He was currently reading through the Grand Nomachiattan Encyclopedia, on the letter C.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"And how can I help you today, my good chap? What might you need from me on this fine day? Shall we have us some tea together, then, all..." Frank waggled a bony finger as he counted each head in the room. "All, eh, all seven of us?"

"We don't have time for tea, Frank," said Gehaffrey grimly. "This is a matter of great importance. Some might say the apocalypse is upon us."

"Oh dear, how dreadful! An apocalypse? Why, the last one was what, but about five centuries ago?" There was a hint of excitement in Frank's voice.

"I know what you're thinking, Frank - but I don't think this apocalypse is going to suddenly make people okay with undead skeletons. In fact, I'm pretty sure if someone saw you outside this room they'd start screaming and hitting you with the nearest blunt object, or otherwise hurling projectiles in your immediate direction with a great veracity."

"Drat. Always seems to be that way. One day, though, people will see things differently."

"Yes, well, maybe. But if we don't make the right moves here, people might actually just end up dead, Frank, so dead that they won't even have an opportunity to see the error of their ways vis a vis undead skeletons."

Frank sighed and took a long drag of his pipe. He exhaled a cloud directly in Gehaffrey's face. "Drat, terribly sorry about that old fellow, even after five centuries it can be difficult for me to control the flow of my smoke without any lips. I really cannot apologize enough."

Gehaffrey groaned. "Look, Frank, we can do away with all the pleasantries, okay?"

"Okay, old chum."

"Stop calling me old!" Gehaffrey was sixty five years young. Considering taumen lived, on average, one hundred and fifty years or so, he wasn't terribly off the mark, though he wasn't exactly the youngest tauman in the room. "Now listen to me. This is serious." Gehaffrey went on to explain to Frank the whole situation, and why Brahd was missing feet, and why Philhip was missing part of a leg, and how there was a massive infestation of Curr upstairs that was surely getting worse with every passing moment. Gehafferty was certain that half of the food and beverages upstairs would've become nothing but exponents by the time they went back up there.

"Oh, how dreadful, and indeed what a coincidence! You know, Gehaff, there was a massive Curr infestation going on back when I originally went down here into this study to start my afterlife in peace and tranquility."

"Yes, Frank, I know. But-"

"And what's more, hah, I actually just got to the entry for 'Curr' in the Encyclopedia Taumanica."

"Stop calling it that, it hasn't been called that in five centuries, Frank."

"Yes, well, that's what it says on the spine, and on the page headings, so that's what I call it, Gehaff. But, regardless, let me see what it says about 'Curr.'" He flipped through the nearest pages, scanning with supernatural speed and tenacity. "Well, erm, looks like this was published before Curr was all that well known. Figures. That said, I can save my place in the Encyclopedia Taumanica for later and look through some of the other books we have here. I know that somewhere we've got something with the information you need. I think I've actually got some scientific journals, somewhere, actually... Those would probably be ideal for this situation, I think."

"Yes, yes, whatever, Frank."

Everyone else just kind of looked at one another, especially the blank man and the unlikeable customer, both of whom seemed a little off-put by the skeleton and by the strange rapport he and Gehaffrey seemed to have. They almost gave off the feeling of being an old married couple the way the two would carry on.

Eventually, Frank stopped talking to Gehaffrey and dug through an apparently endless stack of pamphlets, papers, and folders containing all sorts of journals and scrawlings.

"Ah, yes! Here we go! This is what you're all looking for, this is it, I'm certain!" Frank held a small, red booklet up to the Gehaffrey.

"This?" Gehaffrey held the booklet, watching it flop around like a soggy noodle. "This is what we need? It's so small! Do you really think there's enough information in here?"

Frank took a long drag of his pipe and exhaled a concentrated stream of smoke into Gehaffrey's face. "Sorry again about that, awful draft in here. But yes, I guarantee it, Gehaff, this is the book you're looking for. Just, um, just keep in mind that this is what you asked for, okay?"

"Okay?" said Gehaffrey with confusion on his face. He flipped the booklet open and took a look. And then, as he read the opening page, he started to shiver. And then, when he reached the end of the page, he dropped the bookelt on the floor, his mouth wide in shock. "My gods, Frank! You can't be serious!"

"Oh yes," said Frank. "This is a copy of the original research journal that discovered the cure for the Curr. You mean you really didn't realize what the cure is?"

Gehaffrey shook his head with a judder, looking down at the booklet as if it were a cadaver. "No... Gods no."