“What was that?” Noninja whispered.

“A wight,” Lorarona and Miles replied in near-unison.

Clancy’s eyes grew wide. “Isn’t that a bit overpowered for us? Their hits involve energy drain, don’t they?”

Lorarona nodded somberly. “A negative level. And we don’t have that many levels to begin with.”

Noninja frowned. “Odd that he doesn’t seem to want to attack us. I guess we should be grateful!”

Miles glanced around nervously. “I vote we come back to that room later…if at all.” The others nodded in agreement.

They crept down the hall, passing a row of bathrooms, finally arriving at another door. This one read “Lord Reston Laplux, General Manager”. They exchanged uneasy glances.

“If that last one was the manager,” Lorarona pointed out, “what do you think the general manager will be like?”

Miles shook his head nervously. “Let’s find out later.”

The hall ended with another window to the outside, and a door to another spiral staircase leading down. They doubled back and took a hallway to the side.

They found themselves in another long hallway, running the width of the theater, doors all along both walls. A thick layer of dust lay on the floor; the tracks were heavier in front of one door.

“What do you suppose these are?” Noninja asked.

“Probably dressing rooms,” Lorarona revealed. “Theaters need a lot of those.”

Miles pointed down the hallway. “What is that?”

At the far end of the hallway were two dimly-lit figures, one humanoid, one canine, silhouetted by the light coming in through the window.

Without any prelude, the humanoid shouted “Let slip the dogs of waaaaar!’ just as the canine let out a terrifying bay. After a few gallops, it immediately launched itself into the air and flew toward the team. Hairless and emaciated, its eyes burned like red-hot coals.

The team drew their weapons and prepared to take the charge. They heard panicked footsteps disappear behind them. “Miles?” Lorarona called. But he was already to the end of the hallway; he opened a door to a dressing room and disappeared inside.

She turned around, fear in her eyes, to watch the canine close the distance between them. Noninja ran past her, heading straight toward their attacker. With a firm stomp on the ground, he leaped into the air, curling into a tight ball, and sailed over the charging foe. As he passed over, it turned its head and tried to bite him; its jaws snapped together with a powerful crack, but came up empty. Noninja’s katana lashed out and sliced through the air; the dog let out a pained yelp and crumpled to the ground, rolling awkwardly along the floor, its brief flight over.

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Lorarona and Clancy took quick advantage of this; he fired a beam of powdery white light from his hand, striking the hound in its head. It howled in pain as ice crystals briefly formed on its skin. Lorarona brought her longsword down upon it; her blade left a searing red mark the color of fire.

Noninja was quick on its heels; with another powerful swing of his katana, the creature shuddered and let out a pitiful whimper. It thrashed its head toward Lorarona and bit; its jaws clamped down on her ankle, causing her to fall to the ground. Her longsword struck back; it went limp and stopped moving. She dislodged its mouth from her foot and winced in pain.

Clancy was quickly upon her with a ‘cure light wounds’ potion; she drank it greedily, and her ankle healed. She stood up, her stance slightly unsteady.

They heard a frustrated roar of rage; they turned to see the humanoid glaring in their direction, his imposing height seeming to tower over them, even at a distance. He held a script in one hand, and pounded it with the other. “Hey! You weren’t supposed to win! That wasn’t in the script!” His face burst with anger. “I’ll teach you to improv!” He threw the script to the ground and stomped toward them, drawing a bastard sword.

Lorarona and Clancy braced for combat. She turned to watch Noninja bolt down the hallway and turn at a nearby passage. “Not again!” she anguished.

Switching back to the approaching enemy, she noted the intact hide armor, decorated with many idiosyncratic flourishes, giving him the appearance of a barbarian variant of a bard. She also noticed the sickly gray pallor of his skin, and the missing bits of flesh along his hands and fingers. “Undead!” she announced. Clancy merely nodded.

As he neared, he suddenly pointed his sword at them and roared, glowing noticeably with a sepulchral light. Lorarona and Clancy felt themselves overwhelmed by fear, then it dissipated quickly, leaving them merely shaken. He gaped in disbelief; his face suddenly twisted with rage. “What?! Can’t you morons follow simple instructions?” He snorted loudly, the air escaping with a rush. “You’ll never work in this town again – Gnurl vows it!”

Clancy pointed his hand at the brute; two deep-black energy darts flew from him and impacted. He winced as he twisted slightly, but continued to approach. Lorarona fired her short bow, but the arrow merely grazed him.

A beam of white light shot from Clancy’s hand, hitting their opponent in the chest; he grunted in pain, but didn’t slow his stride. He was upon them; he raised his bastard sword to attack Clancy, but stopped in mid-stroke and howled in pain. Noninja lifted his katana from where he had struck, grinning widely. Lorarona returned his smile and struck with her longsword, landing a devastating blow.

The brute staggered and nearly lost his footing, and screamed hysterically. “No! This isn’t happening! Intermission! Intermission!”

Clancy hit him with another beam of white light; he doubled over. Noninja kicked him in the back of his knees, causing him to fall. With a quick motion, Lorarona ran her sword through his chest; he looked up at her with pure hate in his eyes, then collapsed to the ground.

He lay twitching for a moment. “Won’t anyone follow the script?” he whined. His body then relaxed, and he stopped moving.

Noninja pointed his katana to the defeated foe’s back. “Would you look at that?”

Lorarona and Clancy both gasped. Clearly displayed on the back of his armor, worn by time but still legible, was the unmistakable logo of the bard’s guild, the one they saw on Lyle’s correspondence.