A black mountain rose out of the forest like an overly enthusiastic actor taking center stage for their monologue. A single winding path led upwards to a castle of white stone set halfway up the mountain. The towers were shaped like teeth, their battlements made of faded bones. The heroes crept towards it, their weapons drawn. Dark, daunting music could be heard playing within its walls, loud shrieks filled the air, and a skeleton hung from a tree by the path.

“Do you know, I passed this several days ago,” Dren explained. “I wrote it all down in my notebook, look—”

That notebook was one of two reasons that Dren and Nanoc were still alive: Dren’s notebooks were filled with a tiny mess of shorthand that only he could read, but it had led the party of heroes in rambling circles through the forest and to the tower.

“Here we will find the dread necromancer and the princess who he has taken prisoner, if she still lives,” Rotel ‘Loc said, shivering. “Necomancers are dangerous, fickle creatures. Stinking corpses serve him, for his is demon clothed in despair, without mercy for the living or respect for the death, consumed by horror, and—"

“Hey, is that skeleton holding a violin?” Nanoc asked, pointing at the skeleton hanging from the tree.

“No,” Dren said, squinting. “That’s not a violin.”

“Good,” Nanoc muttered. “I thought I was going mad.”

“It’s a cello. Cellos are larger, and their strings are an octave lower than the violin. I’m sure of it. I used to have one as a child, you know. I wasn’t very good. I kept breaking the strings.”

They regarded the cello-playing skeleton with some concern. It smiled back, as it had to, but didn’t appear animated by magic or other forces. Even so, it was worrying. A skeleton with a spear or a sword was a dangerous enemy, but at least a known one. They would stab and they would slash, but a licensed hero was prepared for such skills. A musical skeleton, however, was unexpected.

And it was the unexpected things that got heroes killed.

“Keep it down, you lot,” Nial Liv ordered. “Do you see the path?”

A single winding path led up towards the castle gates. It appeared to be the only way in.

“We’re heading up the path,” Nial Liv ordered. “Rotcel, take the gnome with you and scout ahead.”

“Surely we should find a less obvious way in?” Dren began. “Our enemy will be expecting us to—”

“Shut it, mage.”

“Do you know, my clas is actually that of a scholar. The difference is—”

“I don’t care. Lizard, why are you still here? I said to get moving.”

“Come on, gnome, a path full of traps is still safer than Nial Liv when his fury strikes,” Rotcel ‘Loc whispered. Nanoc took a moment to look back over his shoulder.

Nial Liv and Rellik grinned back at him most unpleasantly and made keep-going motions with their hands.

“I… don’t know how to find traps,” Nanoc admitted.

“Ah,” Rotcel ‘Loc said, brightening. “Well, avoidance of death is surely a talent worth cultivating. Allow me to take the lead so that I may demonstrate the less violent aspects of being a hero. Traps are fun, you know. As long as they don’t kill you.”

Rotcel ‘Loc might have been an indifferent fighter, but the treasure hunter knew her traps. She liked to think of the sound of a trap snapping within inches of her face as a sort of encouragement, a nasty welcome, a promise that somewhere nearby was a treasure worth protecting.

“So… we might not die?” Nanoc asked, a little surprised.

“Oh yes, gnome, we will probably still die, just not from snares or springs.”

The lizardling looked quite excited by the very thought of finding a trap. She whistled to herself, the frills down her neck dancing in the wind. She paused on the path, then knelt down and stared at a tiny rock that looked, at least to Nanoc, as innocent as any rock could be. Rotcel ‘Loc, however, simply shook her head, disappointed at the lack of challenge before her.

“See here, this rock is loose. Our foe sets a trigger below it, no doubt, to catch the unwary. A simple trap, unworthy of us.”

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“What shall we do?” Nanoc asked. “I—”

His foot caught a pebble and kicked it onto the rock Rotcel had pointed out. A bear trap erupted out of the soil and snapped shut with a loud clang.

“Step carefully, gnome,” the lizardling warned. “We had best avoid the traps rather than risk triggering them. This was a crude and simple trap, but the others might set off an alarm.”

“Right. Good point.”

Nanoc jumped over the next loose rock. Rotcel ‘Loc nodded in approval, and pointed out the trap to the rest of the party. They all passed the trap safely and repeated the process several more times. Rotcel ‘Lec took a little longer each time as the traps became more complex and challenging.

“This is too slow,” Rellik complained. “The lizardling has us jumping over shadows and little rocks. These aren’t even traps, she’s just too scared to face the necromancer!”

Rotcel ‘Loc shook her head in annoyance but said nothing.

“Stop wasting time,” Rellik continued. “What, is this rock a trap? No! Is this patch of dirt the gnome jumped over a trap? I don’t think so.”

Rellik stepped onto the dirt. Nothing happened.

“See? The lizardling is a—”

Long lines of wire burst out of the dirt and wound themselves around Rellik, holding him in place. Within moments, she was incapacitated but unharmed. She struggled, but the cords held her tightly, cutting into her skin. Several even forced themselves across her mouth, preventing her from talking.

“Ah,” Rotcel ‘Loc said with some satisfaction. “Our foe’s early work was trivial, perhaps to lure us into a false sense of security. Here, they have shown great ingenuity in their work. Good for them.”

“Do you know, that wire looks like piano string?” Dren said. “How interesting.”

Rellik thrashed against the trap, but it simply held her tighter, squeezing her until her face turned purple.

“We need to get Rellik out,” Nial Liv ordered. “Gnome, cut that string before she’s strangled to death.”

Nanoc drew his knife. From the corner of his eye, he could see Rotcel ‘Loc shaking her head.

“I don’t think—” Nanoc began, but Nial Liv wasn’t interested in caution.

“Get in there and cut the wire, or do I have to… encourage you?”

The elemental archer had an arrow nocked in his bow. He drew the string back slightly; the threat was clear. Nanoc sighed.

“Fine,” he muttered. “Here goes nothing.”

He stepped up to trap and cut one of the strings with his knife. It broke with a twang!

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Disarm trap: Failed!

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Rotcel ‘Loc charged into Nanoc, crashing into him and pushing him away from the trap. A shadow grew around Rellik, and a second later, a piano dropped on her with a resounding crash! and a twang! sending bits of wooden shrapnel flying everywhere. Nanoc winced as splinters hit his back. Nial Liv ducked behind Dren, who created a shield of overlapping plates of light to protect himself. The air filled with dust and coughing. All that was left of the piano was a pile of broken struts and many untuned keys.

“Go and check if she’s alive, gnome,” Nial Liv said.

“She’s not,” Nanoc said. “She’s definitely—”

“Go!”

This time, Rotcel ‘Loc simply shook her head and Nanoc stopped before he got too close.

“No thanks,” the gnome said.

“I order you too!”

“Yeah? But I don’t like orders very much,” Nanoc said. “Or Order himself, if I’m honest.”

There was a stunned silence. For a gnome to be scared was to be expected, for a gnome to be defiant was unbelievable, but for a gnome to be so sacrilegious as to express a dislike of Order, second born of the gods, leader of the pantheon was… it was… There were no words for what it was, and even the thought was simply too large for any head to hold. Nial Liv couldn’t deal with it.

“You, blocker, go free Rellik!” Nial Liv said at a his last human blocker.

The blocker approached the piano cautiously, cowering behind his large shield. He reached the piano and tapped it cautiously with the tip of a knife. Only then did the piano start its encore: it exploded, a fireball bursting outward and upward, a searing heat that burnt Nanoc’s eyebrows off and blistered his skin, taking several more health points. All that was left of the piano was a ring of black soil and a couple of white keys glowing red hot. That was still more than was left of the blocker: an empty shoe flopped to the ground beside Nanoc. It was smoking.

“Did you still want me to check if Rellik’s alive?” Nanoc asked, poking the shoe with his foot.

Rellik was gone, as were the blocker and striker sent to rescue her. Only Nial Liv, Nanoc, Dren, Rotcel’ Loc and the wounded elven striker had survived.

Nial Liv glared at Nanoc. “We’ve lost the element of surprise now. We need to hurry.”

Rotcel ‘Loc and found no more traps. Nor did they see any skeletons. They reached the castle gates without any challenge at all.

“What are they waiting for?” Dren asked. “They must know we’re here. The piano trap was loud enough to wake the dead.”

The castle gates were ghastly black slaps covered in skulls and strange symbols. The gates were thick and heavy, designed to hold back an army while shut. And yet they were not closed, or at least not entirely. They were open just wide enough to allow the heroes to squeeze through. There was movement behind the door, and noise, too. The skeletons were waiting.

“What’s our plan?” Dren asked.

“There is no time for subtly; we simply charge in. Gnome, you go first and see if you can distract the foul mage. Elf, you go right after him. With a bit of luck he’ll be too busy killing you to notice us.”

That was the second reason Nanoc and Dren had been forced to join the party of heroes: they were the meat shield, the sacrificial bodies.

Nanoc sighed. He was a barbarian by class, but even so, the plan to ‘just charge in’ sounded terrible, particularly if he was going first. On the other hand, smart plans took time and it was rude to keep their enemy waiting. Dren cast the protective spell called hardback on himself and Nanoc, and their skin became thick and leathery like a hardcover book.

“That’s the best protective spell I have,” Dren whispered.

It would have to do.

Nanoc grabbed one of the doors and pulled it with all his strength, opening it wide enough that the whole party could walk in together.

It was time to confront the necromancer or DIE TRYING.