Chapter 3: Knee Aches and Back Pain

“Are you sure you saw this is the right address?” Sergeant Marrowmar asked. Even without eyebrows, he appeared skeptical. Then again, Sergeant Marrowmar always seemed to look skeptical. And grouchy. His frown lines somehow persisted into the afterlife.

The skeleton squad stood before the small thatched roof cottage. It was on the outskirts of the small town of Poppymill. Up a few hills and windy roads, and at the end of the lane, shaded by a cluster of tall oak trees. A tall wooden arch covered in ivy marked the entrance to the residence. A carved wooden red robin perched upon the arch. Below that, there were two placards with numbers on them: the last two digits for the home address. There was space for two more placards, but they appeared to have fallen off over the years.

“Err.. yes. Maybe?” Jellybee replied. He earned his name right after his rebirth. While he was dead a thick honey bee hive took up residence inside of his rib cage and a large yellow mushroom had sprouted up through his skull. He refused to get rid of the nest. Or the ‘hat.’ He considered them fashionable. Jellybee glanced down at the address on his scrap of parchment, then back to the arch. “The first two numbers of missing. But I’m pretty sure. It matches the description.”

“Alright, good enough. Keep an eye out, boys,” Marrowmar marched forward, sword drawn and black cloak sweeping behind him.

The only movement was of two stray cats scurrying off into the underbrush.

The cottage certainly did seem to match the description. It was isolated away enough from civilization, but still close enough to be part of it. From the outside it didn’t appear to be much more than a leaky old shack with a chimney and a few windows. A perfect location for a retired adventurer to settle down.

“Mardy, check the surroundings and keep watch in case they try to sneak out. The rest of you, follow me in,” Marrowmar barked. Mardy saluted with a rattle, drew a nasty looking warhammer off his back, and then stalked off into the overgrown garden that surrounded the building. Marrowmar kicked in the cottage door and the other three shuffled in with swords drawn.

While the outside wasn’t much, the inside wasn’t much either. But it did have somewhat of a lived-in charm to the place. The furniture was sparse and the decor was minimal. A few plants wilted in pots by the window. A flight of creaky wooden stairs led upstairs to the bedrooms and there was a solid stone hearth fireplace in the common area.

Sergeant Marrowmar stalked into the abode. No one appeared to be home. No boots by the door, coat on the rack, or soup in the pot. Best be sure though. “Spinemess, check the pantry.” Spinemess, stoic as always, just nodded, then wobbled into the kitchen area that rounded the corner. “And Jimbo-no?”

“Aye sir,” the last skeleton saluted. He wore an eye-patch. And somehow had managed to have a few sailor tattoos. Most notably, a knotted rope around his wrist bone and a dagger through a rose upon a femur.

“Check the upstairs.”

“On it.”

Jimbo-no crept up the stairs and there was a moment of silence. Then there was a moment of loud banging noises, followed by cat screeching, profuse sailor curses, and more loud banging noises. Then tiny thunderous footsteps pounded down the stairs. A blur of black fur bolted out the front door.

“Nothing to report here, sir!” Jimbo-no called down.

“Indeed,” Marrowmar grumbled. He walked over to the hearth. There was a fresh stack of dried wood upon the pit, which made it appear as if someone had intended to use it soon. He dug into the ashes. The Witchpyre flames in his eyesockets suddenly blazed in intensity, then simmered to their usual smolder as he read the systems notifications his Skill provided. Nobody had used this hearth for a while.“It would appear our quarry is gone. Let’s report back.” The sergeant turned to leave, but then stopped in his tracks as a system message overlaid his vision.

“What the-?” Jimbo-no yelled from upstairs. “Ya’ll seeing this new status?”

“That makes no sense. This town doesn’t have a dungeon. And we’ve been here a moment.” Sergeant Marrowmar muttered. “If this house was a dungeon, the system wouldn’t have waited to tell us.”

Spinemess shambled back into the common area, with his head tilted to the side and his metacarpals facing forward in confusion.

Jimbo-no tumbled down the stairs in a hurry.

“Well… Maybe it just, uh, grew?” Jellybee asked.

Marrowmar shook his head. “Impossible. They don’t grow in homes randomly. There’s not enough concentrated mana. And no monsters here.”

Jimbo-no chimed in. “Besides us, you mean.”

Mardy ran into the room from the front door. His war-hammer jingled against his chain-mail armor. “Bad news, sir. The entire backyard is a dungeon. I even saw a tree spring up out of the ground!”

“It’s here too, Mardy,” Jellybee said. “It just popped up. You think it grew on a tree? I didn’t bring the right gear to fight tree monsters…” He looked out the window. He chattered his teeth in anxiety.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Marrowmaw slapped his forehead. “What? No, you imbeciles.” He sighed and crossed his arms, facing his squad. His eyes burned green with greed. “We have a new mission. Start digging. Dungeon cores don’t just fall out of the sky.”

Before the skeletons could even salute, one did just that.

The dungeon core crashed through the old cottage thatch roof, smashed through Sergeant Marrowmar’s cranium, and landed in the hearth with an explosion of ash and bone-dust.

The remaining boney boys just stared as the emerald witchpyre flames in Marrowmaw’s eye sockets snuffed out with a poof of smoke. Then the body slowly crumpled to the ground. They stood there silently. After a moment they all in unison looked up at the hole in the ceiling, then back down to the hearth.

A fire spontaneously lit in the hearth. Right below the dungeon core.

Spinemess’s jaw dropped to the floor.

They just stood there staring for a moment, not sure what to do without their commanding officer around to bark orders.

“That…That’s the dungeon core. Isn’t it?” Jellybee asked

“Aye. That it is,” Jimbo-no affirmed.

“So, uh, do we take it?” Jellybee asked. He scratched at the straw-hat sized mushroom upon the top of his skull. It was an old habit that refused to die, even after he did.

The other undead shrugged. They thought about it for a moment. Then nodded vigorously in unison.

Spinemess was the first one to advance upon the smoldering, glowing gem in the flames. He got within a few feet of the fireplace. And then he fell seemingly over nothing. There was a sickening crunch as his hip bone hit the wooden floorboards. His bones rattled and vibrated fiercely.

The others all rattled with laughter. Jimbo-no taunted, “Well, what’s the matter, Spiney? Afraid of a little fire?”

Spinemess made muffled noises as he desperately tried to scooch backwards with flailing movements, like a fish hooked fish on land.

(To be clear, undead skeletons, by their nature, defy some of the conventional aspects of reality. Like moving on their own. Or talking without vocal chords. Their very existence is a suspension of belief. Because magic. But even then, some things still have to make sense, such as talking without a jaw bone.)

“The damned fool dropped his jaw again. Of course he can’t speak.” Jimbo-no sighed.“Mardy, be a dear and help out that spineless worm. I’ll fetch the core.”

Jimbo-no walked forward. And then, within a short distance of the Dungeon Core, also fell over in writhing agony. He started screaming.

(To be even more clear, undead skeletons, being magical, also don’t eat, or sleep, or breathe. They certainly don’t feel pain.)

“WHY THE HELL ARE MY BONES HURTING?” He screeched. “OH GOD. I CAN’T GET UP. I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S WRONG. HELP ME. DON’T JUST STAND THERE, JELLYBEE.”

Jellybee valiantly charged forward. Only to trip over a convulsing Spinemess and fall straight into the lit hearth. His mushroom hat roasted in the heat. The waxy hive in his rib-cage immediately caught fire. Horrible screams flew out of his mouth. Along with some bees.

Bees that were now on fire.

Mardy, now holding a jawbone, valiantly charged straight out the front door.

****

I awoke to the sound of several people screaming in agony.

Golly. Creating a whole entire tree must have took a lot of me, huh? I must have briefly lost consciousness as I flew through the air. At least, I think it was briefly. But I somehow found myself suddenly in a room. And well I’ll be. Yup. I’m on fire.

Everything indeed was on fire. And are those bees? Also on fire?

WHAT ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH HAPPENED HERE? AND WHY AM I SURROUNDED BY FOUR DEAD BODIES?

How long was I asleep for? These corpses are nothing but bones!

I’m reminded of that one time when I was driving along in my neighborhood when I accidentally dozed off. It was just for a moment. Honest. Happens to everybody, right? The next thing I know, I’m waking up in a ditch to the sound of sirens. It wasn’t that bad. I was fine, really. I only hit one stop sign. And a car. Okay, okay, I’ll admit, that was pretty bad. I lost my license not longer after that. You live and you learn, right? Well, I guess not. In retrospect... that might have ended up killing me.

But I think this situation might be worse. Far worse.

Whoops.