“So this is where I keep most of my spare body parts.”

Calista was walking through a long corridor decorated with shelves filled with jars of various scrotums, stomachs, ears, fingers, hands, loose hair, eyeballs, intestines, and even a few lightly damaged brains. Between the jars were vials of earwax, a small pile of wood chips, beakers, spoons, lamps, gemstones, spell books, cook books, herbs, spell ingredients, and even a petrified rabbit.

This creepy fuck, Calista thought as she examined the shelves. “And just why do you need spare body parts?”

“Experiments mostly. A lot of adventurers pass through Rumadrane and I like to collect what’s left of them when Ikzurash takes them apart. It’s something of a professional courtesy.”

“What do you mean it’s a professional courtesy?” Calista asked. “I thought this was your place?”

“Oh no, I just rent. Builds credit, you know. Ikzurash and I are a part of a guild. We like to keep tabs on each other. I’m much, much higher level than he is, but that’s just a result of where we were placed in the game and so we like to trade notes, keep tabs on the various players that venture through our zones, and have tea together when we get the chance. I was terribly upset when the dragon moved in as he was really my only company down there and so I’m very excited that someone competent has arrived to kick her out of the place.”

“I’m not making any promises, Skullface,” Calista growled.

“Oh, I get a nickname now?”

“Yeah, Mind Flayer Hitler is far too long for proper dialogue.”

“I agree. Skullface it is then.”

They had arrived at the end of the corridor now. Here, the shelves were mostly empty except for a few dusty tomes. Beside her, Mind Flayer Hitler looked back over her shoulder, his glowing eyes left a trail of blue smoke as he turned.

“Hey, what are you …” However, as Calista turned her head, a pair of glowing yellow eyes popped open and she jumped back with a start. “What the fuck!” She cried.

The skull cackled, “Oh yes, I was just looking for him.”

“You have an owl?” Calista asked.

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“Well, like most familiars, we like to consider our arrangement more of a partnership than anything else. He likes to think of himself as the brains of the operation, I prefer to think of myself as the face.”

The owl fluffed his feathers and began preening himself. Calista could see he was a common brown barn owl, but with shining blue feathers that highlighted the tips of his wings.

“What’s his name?” Calista asked. “No, wait. Let me guess. Archimedes.”

Mind Flayer Hitler grunted, “Actually, his name is George. But he says that you’re pretty enough that you can call him anything you want to.”

Calista immediately decided she liked the owl far better than the floating skull she had picked up. She also came to the quick decision that she would keep such thoughts to herself and so she simply asked, “Would George like to come along?”

Mind Flayer Hitler let out a long sigh, “I suppose I could ask him.” However, before the lich finished his sentence, the owl had perched himself atop the floating skull. “Well there, I guess you have your answer.”

“Okay, so where exactly are we going?” Calista asked.

“Great question,” Mind Flayer Hitler said. “I thought I’d give that option to you. There are two doors ahead. One heads back up to the surface. Secret stairway and whatnot. The other leads to a secret room with a strange tree that no one seems to be able to figure out.”

“What do you mean there’s a strange tree?” Calista asked.

“I mean there’s a strange tree.”

“But what kind of a strange tree.”

“The strange kind.”

“Stop being an asshole.”

“I can’t help it. It’s fun.”

“Describe the tree or we go back to the bottomless pit and I practice my punting skills.”

“I didn’t know there was a punting skill. Has there been a new patch or something?”

Calista turned around.

“Okay, okay, okay, it’s a big skeletal thing with no leaves. I think it’s petrified or something. It’s hollow and makes a weird ‘wooooing’ sound like there’s a wind going through it, but the room is completely still. Freaks me the hell out. George won’t go anywhere near it and the last adventurer we lured into the place disappeared.”

Calista glared at the skull, “Who was the last adventurer you lured in?”

“I don’t know. Big fella. Long black cloak. Smelled like a druid. Didn’t tell me his name, but said he was looking for something.”

Calista looked to the owl. “I want to hear what George has to say.”

The owl shrugged his wings and looked off in the other direction.

“He’s not that talkative. That’s my job. He sees himself more as a consultant. Unpaid mostly. Likes a mouse here and there. Maybe a rat if he’s feeling feisty.”

Calista began looking around for a mouse.

“Sorry, rodents usually down come down this far,” Mind Flayer Hitler said. “They prefer the kitchen up on the surface. There’s a chef up there now who’s a bit out of hand. I haven’t seen the guy, just heard about him. Heard he makes a mean meat pie …”

“Enough about the chef,” Calista snapped. “Where we going?”

“We were just asking you that sweetie,” Mind Flayer Hitler cooed.

“Don’t call me sweetie, Skullface, or you’ll meet the wrong side of my boot.”

The owl chuckled.

Mind Flayer Hitler grinned, “Okay, okay, two doors. Remember? Left or right. Right is up the stairs, left is the mystery door we can’t figure out.”

“Fuck it,” Calista said. “Mystery door.”

Turning around again, Calista stomped down the hallway, descended down a short stairway and found herself at a Y intersection that, low and behold, led to two doors. With a glance at the door to her right, she could see it sat slightly ajar. Through the crack was only darkness. Tempting, she thought as she pulled a torch from her inventory. With a snap from her flint and tinder, the torch came to life.

Turning, she aimed the torch at the left door. It was solid stone, engraved with runes that glowed green and gold in the torchlight. Well that’s not creepy at all. She walked forward and pressed her hand to the door. With a groan, the door swung open, as it opening by itself.

Torchlight flooded into the room, illuminating a cavernous room that was empty but for a towering oak bare of leaves with a hollow running through its center. As the door shut behind her, the tree howled like a ghost.