The black smoke was gone now, and it was visible how the cobblestone and pavement bricks of the main road was being overturned.
The soil itself was imbued with the stuff of life, writhing and churning like a bed of maggots.
From between the muddy earth clawed and burrowed a collection of stained brown bones, seemingly black in the dark of night.
Out of the disorderly mess the deathly faces of skulls appeared. Humanoid skeletons, animated by some eerie magic, were rooting themselves out of the mud.
All the public space within the walls became filled with a dense bustle of ghastly undead. They jittered and twitched lively like living beings.
The human and goblin workers in the town had caught notice of the monstrous formation, they had climbed up on top of their houses and wielded kitchen ware for weapons, "Miss Harkness!" one of them shouted over the packed street.
"Stay there!" she commanded back, "do not interfere!"
"This might be a bit more than we're used to... Ritter," Scratch said as diplomatically as he could, "I think that-"
"Your people are right to be afraid," the lich boasted, "the elemental undead are quite hostile to all forms of life. Their very existence is death, the very same force animates their movements and guides their direction." He held up a lecturing finger in front of Scratch. "Do you recognize their strength? No mind need to be created, and no muscles need to be flex in order to for these creations to fulfill the purpose of a soldier.
Elemental death simply flows towards the extinguishing of life, like water does downhill or a magnet to its pole. This is my gift to you, death given form, to rain upon your enemy!"
He sounded quite bombastic and theatrical while saying so, and Youthere began to jump up and down excitedly, clapping his hands.
"Wonderful! Wonderful! A true engine of despair."
"Your gift to me?" Scratch asked, "to me?"
The lich's bony bull head nodded up and down.
"Then why are they in the middle of my town Ritter? If they're such mindless killers, Ritter, why did you put them where the people live, Ritter!?"
"Ah, yes. Let me assuage your concerns." The lich raised his hand into the sky, for a fraction of a second it seemed like a mesh of golden wires flashed in the night's darkness, from his palm to the animated skeletons. As a response to this gesture the creatures stopped jittering and became still like statues. "During my many years studying dark sorcery, I have stolen and created a great diversity of spells," he mused as he flicked his wrist. A sudden percussive sound burst from the horde, as they all moved abruptly and at the exact same time. Hundreds of skeletons lined up with even space between each other like soldiers, facing the manor. "But my principle discipline has always been- as you might expect from a lich, the manipulation of elemental death." He brought the hand down and all the skeletons kneeled.
"I never imagined.... this many bodies. Underneath our camp..." Harkness gasped a little.
"My lady," Ritter protested, "these are *elemental* undead. The structure of an existing skeleton to coat around allows the element to animate more quickly, but in large enough concentrations the skeletal forms shape themselves. It is the element's most natural expression after all."
Youthere chuckled, "then you have come to destroy us. You would infuse this land and all standing here with the poisonous energy of death itself."
"Did I not stress that my mist is not harmful?" The lich's echo-y voice sounded vaguely annoyed, but his face could show no emotion. "My black mist releases the element only wherever I so please. And I please to create elemental undead, not to kill and reanimate your master and his subjects." He began to walk through the rows of skeletons to demonstrate their inert state.
They followed him. Though much more weary of the things.
Scratch laughed nervously. "It must seem like all we're doing is complaining and calling your motives into question. But to be fair..." he searched for the right words, "skeletons are scary."
"Scary?" The lich cocked his head. "I suppose. I've grown accustomed to them myself. And you will too, once I release them into the continent, you will know them only as your saviors."
"Release them... huh?" Scratch and Lydia exchanged glances.
"Oh yes, the scale at which I can use my black mist is much greater than the number of creations can be controlled directly. Undead are best employed as hordes, flooding the lands of one's enemies like a natural disaster," Ritter crossed his bony arms underneath his robe, "disasters are the earmark of dark sorcerers."
"They do say quantity has a quality all of it's own." Scratch quipped, "so... uh, you're offering to whack the fairies with it?"
"Whack them? Eradicate them you mean. Indeed, elemental undead will kill all living things you expose them to. With my help, you will be able to drench the lands outside these walls in potent death, and raise a horde that will march outwards by itself, into the witchwood, through the plains, and onto the harbor city."
"Yes, with your help..." Scratch repeated in a slightly accusatory tone.
Both stared into each other's faces, Scratch craning up, Ritter looking down. In the darkness of the lich's eye sockets a flicker of faint ghostly light could be seen. They dimmed slightly.
Suddenly Scratch's expression changed to a fake salesmen smile. "That sure is generous! Currently however... we are pursuing a non-violent solution with our neighbours. I hope we don't seem ungrateful but for a weapon we don't have much use at the moment."
"Master! What are you saying!" Youthere protested.
Scratch gave him a hateful look, and the demon's own arm lifted up to block his own mouth from speaking.
"Are you certain?" The lich asked. "Your current enemies are quite different from rival monsters. Fairies and humans are not keen to let go of an enemy once they've bitten down."
"We believe peace is in both of ours best interest." Lydia said, echoing Scratch's words.
The lich stood silent. With no apparent facial muscles he was hard to read, and they began to imagine a simmering hatred from the rejection.
But when he spoke he sounded merely disappointed. "Very well. A gift can not be given if it isn't accepted. However, my offer is not rescinded. I will depart now, but leave a bird by which you can contact me, should you change your mind."
Scratch bowed his head. "I'd hate to think you've come all this way for nothing. Can we offer you anything? Tea?"
"I've not come for nothing. We have made acquaintance, which is much preferable to mere correspondence." He looked around. "I suppose I should discard of them before leaving."
"Oh. Yes please."
The lich flicked his wrist and the skeletons sank to their knees. They were not robbed of their energy, instead, they began to bash their skulls against the ground until destroyed, and ground their bones into dust. The fervent mass suicide disturbed the living but not the dark sorcerer. He gave a little bow as the black mist enveloped him in a towering spiral once again. When it dissipated he had disappeared with it.
Among the dry sound of crunching bones it took a moment to make sure the visitor had actually left. But once he was sure Scratch released the deepest breath ever taken as a goblin and let himself fall onto the ground.
----------------------------------------
"What the Ravenous Lich offered us. Is called patronage." Lydia explained once they were back inside.
It had been decided that cleaning up the ravages of the magic demonstration would have to wait until morning, as it was still the black of night.
Although many of the hamlet's residents wouldn't be able to sleep after witnessing what they did.
Those of the main family that had stayed behind to face the lich had sat themselves down around the kitchen table to calm down and collect themselves.
"What does patronage do then?" Jasper wondered, he was the only one of the three not fascinated and occupied by the tiny woman in the bottle.
"Patronage is when a stronger lord offers a weaker lord to become their vassal. While still allowing them most of their autonomy. For their own protection." She explained.
"Oh... what's a vass-"
"So this guy is stronger than us then?" Ada put the curiosity away to discuss matters of pecking order.
Lydia nodded. "Vastly. Even kings are afraid of the Ravenous Lich." Then she turned to Jasper. "A vassal is just what we call an underling that leads others. Like a duke is to a king, or a count to a duke."
"So... like the mothers of the colonies."
"Exactly."
"Weren't you afraid he'd kill us all if we weren't gonna become his underlings?" Ada asked seriously, "cause he is so powerful."
Scratch puffed contemplatively on a blue grass cigar. "That was a concern, although we didn't quite duck out of becoming vassals. If you remember he didn't put that forward as a choice. He simply said we could use his name, taking our subordination to him as established fact."
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"But you denied him." Lydia said.
"Yeah, that was a gamble. That guy has the ultimate poker face, he was as likely to say he was joking as he was to sick the skellems on us." He took a long drag. "What I declined for was his hair brained scheme to flood the countryside with his damn bio-weapon."
Lydia nodded sagely. "Undead armies target warriors and civilians alike, they're dishonorable weapons."
"Honor or not, it'd be an extremely drastic strategy with no long term benefits to us."
"What do you mean?" Felix wanted to know more about the properties and strategies of large scale weapons.
"If we kill the whole knight regiment in one fell swoop, that only gives us maybe two months of peace." Scratch explained. "There's more where that came from in this entire, enormous continent, and suddenly rooting us out is priority numero uno. So we get an even bigger army on our heads, possibly with even more freakishly powerful eugenics experiments as well. What can we do against that?"
"Uhh.. more undead?"
"Exactly, more undead. Because at that point, we're trapped, completely dependent on Ritter's spells. You see... oh, Ada, pay attention this is power politics stuff."
"I'm paying."
"You see, someone obeying you because they're afraid of you is nice. I mean it's good, it's a winning formula. But getting someone to obey you because they're dependent on you... that's the real deal. Someone like that can never pick sides against you. You understand?"
"I think I understand..." Ada mumbled. "If we'd taken the skeletons, we would never be able to stop needing them. And Ritter would have been able to demand all the clean water we have in return, couldn't he?"
"I don't know where the clean water come in but yes, you're on the money. I think he holds out hope that I'll change my mind on the issue, and that's why he didn't break character today."
Lydia sighed. "And what about the future?"
"Let's worry about the future when we get there. We still have our knight and fairy problems, and we've already got a magical overlord bleeding us, if you remember."
"Lacrima." She stood up. "Let's go downstairs."
----------------------------------------
"Are we going to follow them? Are we allowed to?" Will asked his brothers.
"We're not forbidden." Piers answered, he was already climbing over the rocky debris.
The three story tall brick and plaster wall had once cut off the watery antre that the trolls had emerged from.
It hadn't been seen up close since it was breached more than a month ago. Normally the area was lousy with the unpredictable trolls, but now they had retreated for some reason.
Bree, who had been raised specifically to be their ambassador with the trolls, and had gotten them to leave the industry of the goblins alone, had been taken along.
"I know Bree doesn't want to live with the trolls," Piers stated confidently as he skated down the other side of the wall breach, leaving the magical light and entering the darkness "she likes punching games less than you do."
"Hey wait." Trevor and Constantine hurried after Piers into the inundated tunnels, leaving just Will to look questioningly at Lacrima and Second.
"I will not be made part of this," the witch huffed, as a direct answer to his expression, "I am not a shepherd of monsters. Solve it amongst yourself."
"We will not do that." Second said assertively, although he didn't dare to look her in the eye, "The forge is not mine. The forge is not Bree's. The forge is not Scratch's either. The forge is yours."
"What are you saying?" Lacrima lowered her voice threateningly, "You must have forgotten why you obey me."
"Second does everything here." Trevor said quickly to his defense, "Second thinks up all the tools, and Second repairs the parts that are broken." It was the truth.
"Even if we are weak," Second balled his fists in frustration, "even if have to do what you say. It's still your forge! So you have to protect it. You have to protect us!"
"I must make an example out of you, musn't I?" the witch croaked, stirring with ominous magic.
"Yeah kill me!" He yelled, "throw me away! I'm not afraid." This was a lie. "Let all your monsters die, I hope you do! I hope you let the whole floor bleed out until you have nothing left!"
Lacrima's thoughts could be read plainly on her face. She had lost much of her influence with her exile from the city, she was now more dependent on the dungeon than ever. It was mostly via the head family that she held power here, if they decided to defy her she would have to start a small scale war subjugating the subhuman population, with Scratch proving to be more magically powerful than he had let on the outcome was more uncertain than ever.
She licked her wrinkled lips. "Let's say-"
"Hey!" Will was standing on the other side of the breach and called back at them. "You have to come see this!"
-
There were no trolls in the antre. It was a small and silent natural maze, filled with brackish water up to their shins. It was as cold as ice, possibly colder.
Where the thin layer of mud had been displaced on the floor a natural light shone through. Constantine had scraped circles and lines into it in a thoughtless artistic impulse, and now the low ceiling was a dance floor to shimmering refracted light.
"No, no, come further." Will grabbed Lacrima's hand and pulled her along to the end. Her small orbs of magical light lagged behind and she couldn't see where she was putting her feet.
As they came further along the water become lighter, easier to displace, and eventually turned into vapor.
A carpet of snowy white cloud obscured the ground, which had to be tapering down as Trevor and Constantine were up to their waist, and Piers his neck.
"It's a cloud! Underground!" Trevor marveled.
The witch knew exactly how this gas could sit aside real water, and the hobgoblins didn't know why it shouldn't.
Only Second was confused. "How- What did you do!?"
"I didn't do anything." Trevor stated defensively. "There was already steam here."
"Look at me! My head's been cut off!" Piers demanded attention, then stuck his tongue out like a corpse.
"Weren't you looking for Bree?" Constantine remarked unimpressed.
"Right... I'll go down again." He held his breath and submerged.
Second looked lost at Lacrima. She took her candlelight orb into her hand and whispered some magic into it, it sprouted into vines of floating light, flowing overhead the hobgoblins and then staying in place, illuminating the water vapor.
"It really does lead further down then." She remarked coolly.
----------------------------------------
"And that's the story." Barbara had just about caught up the family to their younger members' disappearance.
She hadn't stopped overseeing the unloading of the smuggler's sloop while she did so, making the bandit leader, who was a former knight, wait on her and follow her around as she worked.
"You're sa-"
"Hey!" Barbara whistled at two goblins carrying a water damaged crate, making them almost drop it out of shock. "Be careful with that!" She yelled.
Lydia suppressed an impatient sigh and started again, slower. "You're saying they took the witch with them? Why?"
Barbara gave her a side-glance. "Why should I know? Why aren't they loyal to you? Mine are to me."
"My chil-" She stopped herself, there was no point in arguing. "Thank you. Goodbye."
She passed Scratch sitting on the damp wooden floorboards. He was smoking a blue grass cigar and maintaining a superfluous meditation position.
"Why didn't they wait for us to come help them?" She asked, as she pulled him up by his armpits and lowered his now dangling legs on the floor, so that he was left standing. "If they thought Bree is in danger."
"We gave them every reason to believe we're dead." He responded coldly. "Remember?"
"Poor kids. They must be so scared."
"They're scared? I'm scared. They aren't visible anywhere in the dungeon." He flicked his cigar to indicate how he could know that. "Out and about in no man's land... I've lost family members that way before."
Barbara called out to them. "Scratch. When are you going to tell me where you keep all of our gold?"
"Great negotiation technique, Barb! Great timing!" He put up his thumb sarcastically.
"None of the mothers can make any deal with an outsider unless they come beg you or your little brothers for permission!"
"And that suits us fine." He responded.
"I can't either. It's my own gold, Scratch! Give me my dues."
"We'll talk later!" He waved her goodbye.
"You promised me the thieves' guild Scratch, don't you forget it!" She called after them.
"Barbara has done pretty well out of it. I thought." Lydia murmured.
"Monopoly position on the boating, extortionate, really." He whispered back, "some people are just hard-done-by as a rule. That's how she ended up with you in the first place."
-
Ada and the boys had fallen asleep on their chairs where they had been left.
It was a communal gathering space for Barbara's goblins to drop in and out of at their own leisure to eat food, discuss plans, or saw planks. The doorways were wide open and the floor melded uninterrupted with the public walkway.
As the space didn't belong to anybody it was messy and unclean, sporting food rests and saw dust.
"I thought they'd have smashed the place to bits by now." Scratch mused.
"It's very late." Lydia responded.
When she said that he had to suppress a yawn of his own.
A loud slam by the bandit leader on the eating table woke everybody up.
"Ha! What!?" Disoriented, Felix jumped up on the table with his weapons drawn.
"Your brothers and sister are in the troll cave. We're going after them." She said.
Ada cracked her knuckles like the male bandits on the surface sometimes did. "If those trolls are hurting Bree again... *managgia*!"
----------------------------------------
"Ada! Mom! Come see what we found!" Trevor cheered.
"Yes, we're safe, thanks for asking." Scratch peered out from behind his family members.
"What did you find, sweetie?" Lydia asked.
"Well, first, Bree was taken along with the trolls-"
"Yes? Have you found her?"
"Uh, not yet. She was going to do the dee-ploma-cee. Cause, you know, of the monster." He had a sudden realization. "What happened to the monster, did you kill it?"
Ada walked up close to him and pushed against his chest.
"Trevor, please tell us what happened." Scratch sighed.
"Uh, so... she didn't come back. And we followed them, and we found the place they come from. So... so I was going to take you... there." Slowly the boy was becoming aware of the charged atmosphere.
"Please do." Scratch insisted, and gestured at him to start walking.
"I said I was going to kill them. Didn't I say I was?" Ada fumed.
"I'm sure Bree is perfectly fine," her father sussed, "we're just going to make sure real quick and then we can all go to bed."
-
They hadn't yet found the other group at the edge of the steaming water vapor.
Lacrima pointed down into the opaque depths, she had stayed behind and found a protruding rock to sit on so she wouldn't get any wetter.
"Aww, nobody waited for me." Trevor complained.
"Now what am I looking at?" Scratch huffed indignantly at the pure white carpet of cloud..
"It's just the underworld honey." Lydia said in passing, she turned to the witch. "Did you lead my children here?"
Lacrima . "You've grown disrespectful as of late. I am not in the business of kiting around dungeon monsters. Need I remind you of our respective positions?"
The water splashed lightly as Lydia put a foot forwards. "Need I remind **you**-"
"What the fuck are you two even arguing about?" Scratch interrupted. "Tell me this isn't the gate to hell."
"Dead? Nobody's dead here." Will poked his head out of the cloud. "Come look below."
"Scratch. You don't know what the underworld is?" The bandit asked in concern.
"Underworld? What's the underworld?" The boys didn't know either.
Lacrima showed a bemused smile. "Scratch makes you forget how ignorant subhumans are." She had regained a sense of control over her fate having this confirmed to her.
"I suppose you are very young by our standards..." Lydia said hesitatingly
Underwater Scratch's foot rapped impatiently against the stone. "Anybody gonna enlighten us or what?"
"Haven't you ever wondered why all the waters of the sea don't drain away?" She asked him.
"I... no, I haven't."
She pointed at the cloud. "The steam is harmless. It's just sea water that can't enter the underworld."
"Yeah. Come down!" Will insisted. "We found Bree, she's downstairs. Come on!"
Lydia stepped into the unknown without any hesitation, but Scratch was still wary.
She held out her arm as her older children passed by her. "I'll hold your hand if you're scared."
He immediately felt condescended against again. "What's keeping the witch from going in, huh?" He deflected.
"Second said to make sure she's also coming." Will said, "to say it's also her trolls."
She glowered at the obscured enemy. "It won't take much more of this charity before this place becomes an expense over an asset." But she dutifully lowered herself and soaked her old women's loafers once again.
The two parents gave each other a meaningful look.
"Let's go over who is bearing what expense again sometime soon."
Scratch took Lydia's hand and she pulled him into the unknown.
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Skeleton
Family: Undead
Threat Level: E
Reward: 3 copper pieces
Skeletons are the weakest undead. As undead they are not found in nature, originating only from necromancy. Encountering a skeleton is an indication of a dungeon or dark sorcerer nearby.
Skeletons are resistant to piercing damage, and can not bleed or be poisoned. However, they do have a weakness. Any magic that can heal does damage to undead instead. A healer of Rank E is able to hold their own against a skeleton without problem if they use their healing spells offensively.
Skeletons are able to grasp and swing weapons, but not wield them with proficiency. A skeleton that demonstrates advanced techniques is an Intelligent Undead of Threat Level D or higher. It is unadvised to face undead whose exact nature and threat can not be established.