The sun was making its way down by the time Jagermick Rollinrock and his newly formed gang of compatriots got to the run-down church. It was not a hard building to find as it was an odd structure sitting atop a hill, making it quite noticeable from anywhere the town of Ford.

Unlike the rest of the buildings in town, which were largely made of wood or brick, the church seemed to be made of carefully carved marble. Before the main entrance stood a line of pillars leading towards the door with a gargoyle sitting atop each. They were somewhat degraded with the gargoyles looking like unpleasant jumbles of limbs with heads that were either worn away and faceless or simply not present.

Jagster, still feeling the effects of his drunken tomfoolery a few hours earlier, was incredibly unnerved by these faceless abominations. Despite most of them being eyeless, he felt dozens of gazes squarely on him as if each stone monstrosity were ready to pounce.

“Neat,” Tiphone said, marveling at the pillars as they passed. “I want one. Can I have one?” She looked to Daphine O’Dora, who had stopped to look at the most intact of the pillars.

“It would make a lovely decoration,” Daphine mused. “But how do we move it?”

Verys tapped Tiph gently on the head, greatly annoying the little gnome, who was not fond of being reminded how short she was. “What if you used your brain trick?” he said. “Just yank it out of the ground.”

Tiph thought for a moment and then said, “I could try.” She closed her eyes and concentrated. A crackle of energy seemed to come from her, and she began to float. The pillar began to rumble and shake, but stayed planted where it was.

Tiph’s face skewed as she concentrated more. The pillar began to move up subtly, the ground holding it becoming unearthed. Daphine raised an eyebrow with interest as the others stared in awe.

The pillar moved higher and higher. Everyone stared intently as it did. Jagster turned to look at Tiph. “Damn, girl,” he said. “You’re—”

The words caught in his throat. Tiph’s face was becoming purple from the strain and her nose was bleeding profusely. Jagster ran to her, grabbed her shoulders, shook her and shouted.

“Stop! Stop it! It’s too heavy! You’re hurting yourself!”

Tiph’s eyes popped open, revealing how bloodshot they were. Jagster noticed that she was starting to cry blood.

Tiph let out a gasp of air and the pillar slammed to the ground, wobbled and collapsed into the dirt with a loud thud. The gargoyle on top snapped off and rolled down the hill, shattering on the stairs leading up it.

Tiph collapsed suddenly. Jagster was barely quick enough to catch her, keeping the gnome from crashing into the ground.

Annette, who was a good deal ahead as she had little interest in the pillar, whipped around at the commotion behind her. Seeing a bleeding and seemingly unconscious Tiph spurred her to sprint over, ripping off her sleeve as she did so. Upon getting to Tiph, she used her torn sleeve as a rag to wipe up the blood.

She began to look at the others with a hint of panic. “What the heck happened?!”

Before anyone could answer, Tiph’s eyes slowly opened, and she spoke in a barely audible whisper. “Did I get it?”

“Afraid not,” Daphine replied.

“Unfortunate,” Tiph grumbled as she closed her eyes again.

Jagster handed Tiphone over to Annette so the large woman could carry the gnome until Tiph recovered. Whilst doing so, the hairs on the back of Jagster’s neck stuck up. Something was wrong.

This was not the hollow anxiety the gargoyles caused him. This was real. Tangible. Instinct kicked in which caused him to look around with great attention.

He saw nothing out of the usual, but he still felt a presence that did not belong. He tried a different tactic. He focused on the feeling and tuned out everything around him. He felt his body go light and his head grow foggy. Then he heard a voice in his mind. One that was not his own. It chuckled in amusement.

“Clever goblin. Reversing the scry. That is enough of that, though. Be gone.”

Suddenly, Jagster snapped back into his body with such incredible force he actually felt whiplash.

“Guys?” he said, after regaining his bearings. He went ignored as the others were still concerned with Tiph’s condition.

“Hey, dick-heads! I’m talkin' to ya!” That seemed to catch their attention.

“What is it, Jagster?” Verys asked. “I hope it’s something important and not one of your bad jokes.”

“First of all, screw you. My jokes are hilarious. Second of all, the wizard guy knows we’re here.”

“And you know that because—?”

“Magic bullshit. Don’t worry too much about the details. I just know that he was diggin' in my head. Probably figured that, since I was a goblin, I’d have the weakest mind.”

Annette’s eyes went wide. “Ah didn’t know you were magic!”

Jagster shrugged. “I’ve picked up a few bits and bobs. Enough to get by. In any case, I got mind-read.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Daphine scowled. “To do that, he’d have to see us, somehow. But there’s no windows in the church. How could—?”

Daphine stopped mid-sentence as something dawned on her. “The statues.”

Jagster nodded. “The statues. Probably enchanted. Would explain why they gave me the heeby jeebies.”

“Well, there goes the element of surprise,” Verys said, crossing his arms unhappily.

“Should ah smash these ugly gargoyles?” Annette asked, throwing Tiph over her shoulder to free a hand for punching.

Daphine shook her head. “No point. We’re already caught. May as well keep moving and keep an eye out for traps and ambushes.”

Verys nodded and moved ahead of the group. “I’ll check the entryway for traps.”

Verys Nelt was raised by a gang of thieves and had picked up quite a few tricks of the trade. In the end, he was far too noble in nature for a life of crime. So, instead, he set out to use his skills as a local adventurer, doing regular odd jobs, searching old ruins, and fighting off the occasional monster.

Eventually, his skills caught the attention of O’Dora who felt the need to hire someone of his particular skill sets. Thus, his current circumstances.

Verys tentatively stepped up to the doorway, watching his feet for tripwires and the like. He searched the door diligently. Nothing suspicious. The door was locked, though.

He reached into his belt pouch and pulled out his lock pick set. He set himself to the lock for a few moments. Whilst doing so, he noticed something unusual about the internal mechanisms.

He frowned and rapped the door gently with his knuckles. What appeared to be thick and solid wood was actually hollow.

His frown deepened. The door was trapped in some way, and he didn’t see a way to disable it from this side. The mechanism had to be fairly complex to justify hollowing out the door. If it was something explosive, he had little hope of avoiding it.

He stepped back, put away his tools and returned to the group. “We’ll need to find another way in. The front door is trapped, and I can’t disable it.”

“Fat lotta good you are,” Jagster said rolling his eyes.

“Oh? And you could do better?”

Jagster pulled off his backpack and rustled through it for a moment. He reached his arm far deeper into the bag than should be physically possible. The bag was enchanted to be bigger on the inside. After a little bit he let out a little “Aha” and drew out a jar of green paste.

He handed the jar to Verys with an expression of victory. The young human stared at the jar blankly.

“What is this?”

‘“Burn Cream!”’

“And this will help how?”

“The name is ironic. It is cream the burns things. My own invention. Lather it on something, wait and sizzle sizzle. That thing melts in a pile of goop.”

“So ya reckon we should just melt down the door?” Annette asked.

Daphine shook her head. “We should find a back way in. Especially if our presence is known.”

“I disagree,” Jagster said. “If the front is trapped, that probably means it is lightly guarded. Meanwhile, they’re probably keepin' a close eye on any weak points.”

“So,” Verys said slowly. “You’re saying they expect us to play things quietly and thus we should do the opposite?”

“Now yer catchin' on.”

“I don’t know if that is wise…”

Annette rolled her eyes, snatched the jar from Verys and dumped Tiph on him.

“Ugh. Ya’ll talk too much. Let’s just do this thing!”

Annette marched up to the door with Jagster following behind, explaining how to use the “Burn Cream” without melting oneself. He explained that, before application Annette had to cover her hands with a neutralizer. He hurried to pull said substance out of his bag. Eventually he yanked out a jar of blue paste.

“You have to make absolute sure this stuff doesn’t touch you without the neutralizer,” Jagster said. “It will liquefy even your bones.”

“How come it doesn’t melt the jar?” Annette wondered.

“The glass is made of the neutralizer. Plus, open air is the catalyst. Without air, the stuff is harmless.”

It took a few moments to apply the substance, as Annette covered the whole door, nearly depleting the jar in the process.

She stepped back, handing the nearly empty jar to Jagster. The goblin frowned and muttered. “Do ya know how hard it is to make this stuff? The materials alone are super rare…”

Daphine stepped up behind the pair. “So… How long should this take?”

“Another minute or so. The activation time is slow so that, y’know, people don’t melt themselves usin’ it.”

Just as Jagster finished his statement, the group heard a sizzling noise coming from the door. Soon, the door burst into flames, as the acidic substance ate away at it. Within the door was a plethora of metallic mechanisms that quickly melted away as the “Burn Cream” did its work. Eventually, nothing was left of the door except a smoldering sludge of burnt wood and metal.

It seemed that Jagster’s assertion that the main door wouldn’t be guarded if it was trapped was correct. Past the pile of refuse was an empty hallway with chairs lining it that lead to another door. One could assume this was a waiting area.

Verys stepped forward to investigate the door. Annette followed.

“Ah,” Tiphone said, having recovered somewhat and was also heading after Verys. “Another door. Exciting.”

“I don’t see what is exciting about a door,” Daphine declared, being completely genuine.

Jagster looked at Daphine, dumbfounded at her apparent inability to recognize sarcasm. “Yer a real space-case, y’know that?”

“Says the little green man,” Daphine replied.

Meanwhile, Verys set himself to picking the lock. Annette stood guard and Tiphone observed curiously.

“Oh, she recognizes human literary tropes but not sarcasm. Excellent.”

“Guys,” Verys said.

“What is so excellent about it?” said Daphine, ignoring Verys.

“Guys, I opened the door,” Verys said more emphatically.

“Sarcasm, woman,” Jagster declared. “Yeesh, are ya tryin' to annoy me?”

“GUYS,” Verys shouted.

“What do you want?” snapped Jagster and Daphine simultaneously.

They both looked over to Verys. A man in a black robe was holding a knife to his throat. Beside him, Annette was too busy grappling with another man to help. Tiphone, still too tired to use her powers properly, was being grabbed by a third man.

“I opened the door,” Verys said. Then the man slit his throat.