Chapter 28

The party returned to the Prancing Pony later that day, their inventories overflowing with an eclectic assortment of goods. Baked goods, raw meats, enchanted gadgets, backup gear – if it caught their eye and seemed remotely useful or interesting, they bought it. Despite their extravagant spree, the surprisingly low prices in the city meant they had only spent a few hundred gold pieces each. Reconvening in the tavern, the five adventurers settled in for a hearty meal of stew and freshly baked baguettes, a welcome change from the endless parade of exotic delicacies they'd sampled throughout the day. A comfortable silence settled over them as they ate, each lost in their own thoughts.

"I never thought I'd say this," Evolon finally declared, breaking the silence just before taking a massive bite of her crusty bread, "but I am sick of shopping."

"It's not the shopping," Flint countered, spearing a hefty chunk of stew meat with his fork. "It's the standing. Why don't they have chairs in those shops where people are trying on clothes for hours?"

"The problem is choice overload," Pierce explained, his analytical mind dissecting their shared experience. "It's like going to a huge buffet. You first seek out your favorite foods, but after that, you can't make a decision on the rest. And trying new things often leads to not liking them as much as your first choices."

The group nodded in agreement, their earlier enthusiasm for the endless array of goods now replaced with a sense of weary satiation. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city for the second time that day, they retired to their three rooms. Evolon and Grok shared one, Ignis and Flint another, and Pierce, the champion snorer of the group, was relegated to his own.

Four hours later, Grok roused her companions. She had summoned a tiger to stand guard in each room, their menacing forms patrolling restlessly throughout the night. Now, as the appointed hour approached, she reabsorbed her feline guardians, and the five adventurers slipped their invisibility rings onto their fingers. They exited their rooms, their footsteps silent on the wooden plank floor, and descended the inn's stairs, emerging onto the deserted streets of Doombringer.

While the human inhabitants slumbered peacefully, the skeletal workforce continued its tireless efforts. Dozens of skeletal laborers levitated crates, cages, and pallets through the city towards the import/export warehouse near the portal hub. Other lanes of skeletal traffic ferried an endless stream of fruits, vegetables, livestock, and other foodstuffs throughout the city, ensuring the markets would be fully stocked come morning. The adventurers, shrouded in invisibility and silence, easily navigated the skeletal traffic, their eyes fixed on the looming silhouette of the clock tower in the distance.

"It's like Big Ben," Evolon mused over the mental chat, "but the size of the Burj Khalifa."

"I've been to Dubai," Ignis replied. "This is much larger in both length and width, and a solid square all the way up, like the World Trade Center. Magic construction really is something else."

"The enchantments almost blind me every time I look at the foundation of these huge buildings," Pierce added, his voice filled with awe. "So many strengthening, weight reduction, and shielding enchantments are woven together in a helix, like super-tiny rune DNA. It's in every brick and block of the building. You could drop a nuke on this city, and the structures would laugh it off. The living beings, on the other hand..." His voice trailed off, the unspoken implication hanging heavy in the air.

As they approached the impossibly tall clock tower, the group easily located the red door they had each scouted earlier in the day. A faint arrow, drawn in thin white chalk, pointed to the right of the door. Several feet away, a large X was drawn with chalk on the sidewalk. Following the "X marks the spot" instructions, they positioned themselves on the X, but nothing happened. Then, as the clock tower's arms struck midnight, the cobblestones beneath their feet sank slightly, revealing a set of stairs leading down into the darkness beneath the sidewalk. The stairs turned left, continuing beneath the imposing foundation of the clock tower.

Before venturing down the dimly lit passage, each party member, except Evolon, who had night vision enchanted on her vambraces, retrieved an item from their inventory that granted them the ability to see in the dark.

"Okay, so now I see why we should all enchant our combat gear with the same utility enchantments, rather than just one person having each one," Evolon commented over the mental chat, a hint of impatience in her voice as she waited for her companions to equip their night vision gear. "Could you imagine having to do this every time something like this comes up?"

"I'm still in favor of a wide spread of enchantments, with one member of the party alerting us when a specific one is needed," Pierce countered, defending his strategy for utilizing his enchantment duplication abilities. "There are only so many items we can wear, and many more enchantments available. In a pinch, I could also cast a spell for many of them that covers all five of us."

With their vision enhanced, the group descended the stairs, their footsteps echoing softly in the confined space. The air grew heavy with the scent of damp earth and something... else. A mix of Metallic smells and oil based lubricants hung in the air.

"I almost forgot about the walking cheat code over here," Ignis grumbled over the group chat, remembering past TTRPG campaigns where, as Dungeon Master, he had meticulously crafted intricate storylines and challenging encounters, only to have Pierce the effortlessly bypass them with his uncanny ability to exploit loopholes and uncover hidden solutions barely within the rules of the game.

"My only complaint about that," Flint chimed in, "is that he often skipped some juicy fights! I just want to smash things!"

"Brains bash better than brawn, sometimes," Grok added, surprising the others by voicing her opinion. With each passing day, she felt more and more like a valued member of the group, her confidence growing alongside her newfound sense of belonging.

The group proceeded down the dimly lit staircase. After turning left, the stone steps ascended back to street level, the entrance seamlessly sealing shut behind them. They deactivated their invisibility rings, no longer needing them in the secluded passage. As they continued down the narrow hallway beneath the clock tower, the air vibrated with the rhythmic churning of gears and springs of all sizes. Some whirred continuously, while others moved in fits and starts, their varying speeds and cadences creating an oddly mesmerizing symphony of mechanical sounds.

At the end of the hallway stood a sturdy wooden door with a smaller door at eye level. Flint, leading the way as always, stepped forward and rapped out the familiar "shave and a haircut" knock. A moment of tense silence followed, then the correct response came from within. The smaller door creaked open, revealing a pair of startlingly grey eyes peering out at them.

"Were you followed?" a hushed voice whispered through the opening.

"Hard to follow someone under an Invisibility spell," Flint whispered back with a wry grin.

The small door closed, plunging them back into tense silence. Thirty long seconds ticked by, the only sound the relentless churning of the clock tower's inner workings. Then, with a series of metallic clicks and clanks, several latches disengaged, the sounds masked by the grinding of gears. The large door slowly swung inward, revealing a woman in her forties, her grey hair pulled back in a severe bun, a flour-dusted red apron covering her simple grey dress.

"Enter quickly," she commanded in a hushed tone, ushering them into a small, candlelit room before securing the door with four heavy latches. "Please stow all enchanted items," she requested, her gaze sweeping over the group. "We initially believed those were their surveillance systems. While we now know it's the Skeletons, you can never be too careful."

The group readily complied, transferring their enchanted gear into their inventories with practiced ease. The woman's eyes widened in surprise. "You all have an inventory?" she whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. "How did humans from Earth, and an orc, all obtain this in such a short time?" She gestured for them to follow, leading them through a labyrinth of dark hallways lit by flickering torches.

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"Our secrets are ours to keep, just as yours are for you to keep," Pierce replied cryptically, unwilling to reveal the source of their abilities until he could assess the trustworthiness of the resistance.

They emerged into a large chamber dominated by a complex network of gears, their ceaseless motion filling the room with a cacophony of whirring and clanking. Pendulums swung rhythmically along one wall, their hypnotic movements adding to the surreal atmosphere. In the center of the room stood ten humans, their faces etched with exhaustion and worry.

"Who was the first man on the moon?" a tall man in the center of the group asked, his voice sharp and suspicious.

"John Glenn," Pierce replied without missing a beat, "or no one, as it was all a NASA deep fake conspiracy, depending on who you ask." He knew this was a question only someone familiar with Earth's history and pop culture could answer.

"What's with the orc?" the man pressed, nodding towards Grok.

"She was an invader," Flint explained, stepping forward protectively, "but she realized she was being used by her clan and switched sides. She's now a member of our adventuring party. She's proven herself many times in battle, and we all trust her with our lives."

"We're here to help," Pierce added, gently steering the conversation back to the matter at hand.

"Though we face despair in the face of our enemy, we must resist," the woman in the grey dress declared, stepping closer to the resistance leader and taking his hand in hers.

"First, some news you might not know about," Pierce began, his voice calm and reassuring. "We fought hundreds of orcs on Earth, went through the portal to Dunblag, closed it behind us, and killed most of their portal mages. The invasion is over. There might still be some orcs on Earth, but the army was rallying when we left, and I'm confident the situation is under control now. The orcs were just hired mercenaries by this Doombringer Necromancer, and we intend to pay him a little visit. But first, we need to get all the Earth humans to a safe place. If you can gather them, we can portal them to a rallying point and eventually get them back to Earth."

Jaws dropped, and gasps filled the room as the humans absorbed this unexpected news.

"What you say is unbelievable," the leader finally stammered, shaking his head in disbelief. "I cannot gather everyone without some proof."

Pierce, thought for a second then summoned an armor mannequin from his inventory. With a mental command, he equipped it with a leather breastplate and helmet, then conjured a shimmering laser hanging in the air with a brilliant bright light. "WHOOOM!" he exclaimed, mimicking the sound of a lightsaber as he mentally commanded the floating blade to slice through the mannequin. The cut was precise and devastating, cleaving through armor and mannequin alike, from left shoulder down to right waist. The top half of the figure hung suspended for a moment, defying gravity, before toppling to the floor with a soft thud. Pierce then cast cure and heal spells on the group removing any old ailments and fully restoring them to perfect condition.

"I think we can handle a few low-level skeletons," Pierce declared with a wink, his confidence radiating through the room.

The assembled humans, initially wary, now exchanged excited whispers, their faces alight with a newfound hope. After a brief discussion, their leader stepped forward, extending his hand towards Pierce. "Welcome to the resistance," he said, a warm smile replacing his earlier suspicion.

"May the Force be with us all," Pierce responded, echoing a famous line from his world, eliciting a chuckle from the leader, as they shook hands.

"Make the call, Anya," the leader instructed the woman with the flour-dusted apron.

Anya pulled a smartphone from her pocket, powered it on, and swiftly navigated to a messaging app. With practiced efficiency, she typed out a short message and hit send before powering the device off again.

Pierce, recognizing the telltale signs of a mesh communication network, smiled knowingly. He had encountered similar systems in his work as a network consultant, often employed in situations where oppressive governments had restricted or completely shut down internet access. It was a clever and resourceful solution, and he couldn't help but admire their ingenuity.

"Can I see your phone for a moment?" he asked Anya. Several other resistance fighters, seeing their leader's willingness to comply, also produced their phones. Pierce quickly inscribed a small, intricate rune on each device. With a faint whoosh, mana flowed into the phones, their batteries instantly reaching full charge.

"You shouldn't need to power them off anymore," Pierce explained, handing the phones back to their astonished owners. "Free power, as long as the mana density is high enough around you."

A wave of shock and amazement washed over the group. This was beyond anything they had imagined.

"When we get back home," a short man with thick-rimmed glasses ventured, his voice hesitant, "could you work with our developer group? We have a small group from IT and the development team who were... well, grabbed from meetings on the campus. They've been trying to incorporate magic into code and devices, but with no success so far. Your expertise would really give them a boost."

Pierce, recognizing the man's nervous demeanor and characteristically cautious phrasing, couldn't help but smile. "Let me guess," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "You're a project manager for the Walmart application or IT team?"

"Wha-?" the man sputtered, taken aback, before shrinking back slightly.

"I'm a network consultant," Pierce explained. "I work with your NOC all the time. And while I don't recognize you personally, I've sat in far too many meetings with project managers not to recognize the personality traits that make you good at your job. Being able to translate geek to executive buzzwords is a skill few can master."

The project manager, his initial apprehension replaced with a flicker of recognition, nodded slowly. "You're right," he admitted. "It's... a gift, I suppose."

"They are all on the way," the leader of the resistance explained, his voice a low rumble that echoed through the chamber. "We found a network of corridors and tunnels beneath the city that are rarely used anymore. Our people have been moving around, doing their jobs, just enough to not arouse any suspicion."

"Like the Utilidors under Disney World?" Pierce exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with childlike excitement. "I've always wanted to see those!"

A short woman in a crisp business suit chuckled. "I flew out to meet some Imagineers several months back," she shared, her voice filled with fond memories. "We were working on a toy line for a movie release next year, and they gave us the VIP treatment. We saw Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce with their security detail between meeting Cinderella and riding the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train. Sometimes, when the ride breaks down mid-day, it's actually because a VIP is getting a private ride. That's where we got the idea to use these tunnels."

As the party waited in the cacophony of the clockwork room, small groups of humans emerged from hidden doorways and passages, converging in the center of the chamber. The crowd slowly grew, a collection of weary faces and hopeful eyes, until they numbered roughly one hundred.

"This is all that is left of our group," the leader said, his voice heavy with sadness. "All who resisted openly were taken to the castle, never to be seen again. We started with almost three hundred."

"Don't think about that now," Pierce reassured him, his voice firm and resolute. "They made their choices, and you did what you could to keep your people safe. We will get you back home and find out what we can about the others."

Ignis stepped forward, his hands glowing with arcane energy. With a practiced incantation, he tore a rift in the fabric of reality, conjuring a shimmering portal that pulsed with vibrant hues of blue and green. Through the swirling vortex, they could see the familiar, comforting sight of their hideout in Dunblag.

The captive humans hesitated, their fear momentarily outweighing their hope. Then, the leader, with a deep breath and a determined glint in his eye, stepped towards the portal. With each stride, his confidence grew, and as he vanished through the shimmering gateway, the others followed, their apprehension replaced with a surge of adrenaline. The room slowly emptied, the trickle of escapees becoming a steady stream.

But as the last few stragglers remained, frozen by fear, a thunderous BANG echoed through the chamber. A heavy door burst open, splintering into fragments, and a horde of skeletal warriors poured into the room. Panic erupted, the remaining humans scrambling towards the portal, their fear now a powerful motivator. Ignis, sensing the imminent danger, closed the portal just as the last human stumbled through.

The five adventurers stood back-to-back, forming a tight circle in the center of the room. Skeletal warriors, clad in a mismatched assortment of metal and leather armor, filled every available space. They wielded an array of weapons – swords, daggers, hammers, bows, and shields – their skeletal hands gripping them with surprising strength. The only commonality amongst the undead soldiers was the gleaming amber gem protruding from their foreheads, embedded in their metal helmets.

The party braced for battle, equipping their gear, drawing their weapons, and preparing spells. The only sounds were the cacophony of the clock tower's gears and the soft rasp of bone against stone as the skeletons shuffled into position.

"That's it," Flint growled, his patience wearing thin. "I'm sick of waiting." With a roar, he charged forward, his shield raised and his hammer whistling through the air. He slammed into the nearest skeleton with a devastating overhand strike, crushing its helmet, skull, spine, and pelvis into a small pile of dust on the stone floor in front of him.

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, with a cacophony of rattling bones and scraping metal, all hell broke loose.