Hands shaking uncontrollably, Paul knelt over Alaric’s dead body. The adventurers had come in and killed him, but why? There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to it.

No tears came, Paul wasn’t even sure if he were capable of crying. He reached out and straightened Alaric’s collar and vest. The older vampire would have hated looking disheveled.

All the power Alaric seemed to have had didn’t save him from those monsters. There was no reason to come to their home and kill his master.

Looking up quickly, Paul sent his senses out. If the adventurers were still about, they may kill him also. They might be searching for him now. There didn’t seem to be any life left in this area of the crypt.

“We need to go.” Liora said.

She was a wraith bonded to Paul through magic, Alaric’s magic. Paul wondered if she were still bonded. Liora hadn’t left, so she must still be bonded.

Looking up at her, he resolved to live through this. She was right, they needed to leave.

“Alright.” Paul moved to secret door he had used to enter after the adventurers had left.

The passage led north, where reinforcements awaited. If the adventures were powerful enough to kill Alaric, the undead hoard they had made wouldn’t be a match for such a powerful group. The hoard had been waiting right where it had been left.

Among the mindless undead was a wagon carrying Alaric’s library. Paul’s own spellbooks were kept with them.

“Where are we going?” Liora asked as she floated quickly behind Paul.

“North. We need to escape into the Deepwoods.”

Paul looked over Alaric’s, no not Alaric’s, but Paul’s horde. They numbered two-hundred skeletons and one-hundred zombies, made up of the dead humans in the area. It had taken two years to gather them all, but they managed.

“No one will be able to find us there, and if they do, we should have time to build up some fortifications to help defend us. Whoever these people that killed Alaric… what if they come for us?” Paul climbed into the wagon. He willed the skeleton horses to move north and the hoard followed.

The horde moved north at what seemed like a crawl. It made Paul a little nervous. He kept looking out of the carriage to see if the adventurers were following them.

Unsure how useful the horde would be in a fight with a group that could kill Alaric, Paul stayed in the middle. It would be easier to respond to either direction if the adventurers showed up.

The horde finally made it to the tree line around dawn. The forces were organized in a way that they couldn’t be seen from outside the forest.

“Will you keep an eye out while I sleep?” Paul asked Liora.

The wraith was a translucent purple-black with raven hair down to her waist and pitch-black eyes. She tilted her head and smiled, “Of course. Sleep without fear.”

Nodding his thanks Paul pulled the curtains of the carriage closed. He locked small wooded lattices in place to make sure the curtains didn’t open if it got windy. With no choice but to trust Liora and his undead horde Paul tried to sleep the day away.

His rest was fitful and unfulfilling, but it was enough to give him the energy he would need to move on through the night.

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Leaving the carriage, Paul looked for Liora. She wasn’t far off, wandering among the zombies.

“Any sign of the adventurers?”

“Nothing.” Liora said.

“Do you think they got lost?” Paul started walking towards the tree line.

“If they are even following us.” Liora drifted at Paul’s side. “They had all day to come look for us.”

“Why wouldn’t they follow us?”

“They could have gone in the other direction.” Liora shrugged. “The world is a big place and the crypt had a lot of exits and we could go in any direction after leaving any of them.”

Paul looked out past the trees. His glowing red eyes searched, but could see nothing, even with his superb night vision. Running a hand through his short rust colored beard he grunted.

He sighed, looking up into the canopy above, then back at the horde.

“We should keep moving, find a defensible place to hold up.” Paul said as he walked back to the carriage.

“Yes.” Liora said, casting one last glance back, then followed him back into the forest.

The horde moved on for about an hour before Paul started to get hungry. Stopping the horde, he left the carriage.

“What’s wrong?” Liora asked.

“Nothing, I’m just hungry and I’m sure the march of three hundred undead isn’t going to scare all the food away.” He forced a grin to show Liora he was fine.

He felt Alaric’s death affected him more than her. She never really like him to begin with. Alaric had used magic to bring her back from the dead as a wraith, then forcibly bind her to an amulet to serve him. When she didn’t prove to useful, Alaric bound her to Paul, hoping she would be more useful to him.

Paul sent his senses out to see if anything living was around. Not being able to sense anything, he made his way north. Keeping himself aware he slowly left the horde behind.

After nearly an hour he could make out a goat in the distance. With unnatural speed Paul pounced on the small goat wrapping his arms around it and sinking his teeth into its neck.

Blood sprayed into his mouth as he began sucking the blood from the goat. It tried futilely to escape, but didn’t have the strength to get away from its captor.

Loud bleating shot out into the woods. Probably attracting the attention of all the predators nearby. Paul didn’t mind the noise. Let competition come.

With a few last soft baas, the goat died. Paul made sure to drain it completely before letting it go.

For a moment he wondered if he should leave the dead goat there to attract predators. Before he could make his decision, he heard noises coming from further north.

With practiced stealth, Paul made his way towards the noise. He could hear voices as well.

Paul made his way towards the edge of a clearing where he could see a large goblin kicking a smaller one that was lying on the ground. The larger goblin was yelling, rather loudly, spit flying from his mouth.

Unable to understand, Paul cast a spell that would let him understand all languages for a couple of hours.

“Grag, your so useless.” The big goblin said.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to let the goat escape.” Grag said pleadingly. He took another kick.

“Didn’t you hear it? Something killed it.” The big one growled.

Paul watched with interest. A couple of goblins could feed him for a few days if he was careful.

The bigger goblin continued kicking Grag. “I should just kill you. Your worth nothing, useless trash.”

“No.” Grag cried.

Not wanting to lose a potential meal, Paul rushed from his hiding place with unnatural vampiric speed. Within a fraction of a second, he had an arm around the big goblin’s neck and hefted him off the ground. Three seconds later, the big goblin was unconscious.

Through his bond with the horde, he willed a dozen of them to come to him. He sent a message to Liora as well that he had caught a big meal that they could keep for later.

Grag looked up the moment the kicking stopped and had watched Paul render the big goblin unconscious. The little guy shook like a leaf. His jaw was agape and the smell of urine made its way to Paul’s nose.

Paul grinned. It pleased him that he was more intimidating than death at the hands of another goblin.

The rustling of leaves and the snapping of twigs and branches marked the approach of the skeletons. Discretion was not their strong suit.

Liora floated up faster than them. She looked at the two goblins with mild interest. With her approach Grag made to get up and run away, but Paul planted a foot on his chest.

Grab let out a loud scream. “Don’t kill me.”

“It’s loud.” Liora said. Only she could make her ethereal voice sound bored and disinterested. “It is wise to travel with it? What if it attracts attention?”

“It can be gagged.” Paul said looking down at Grag.

The skeletons picked up the big goblin and two reached down to pick up Grag. The little goblin didn’t even try to fight at first. He began to sob, begging not to be killed.

“Wait, wait.” Grag said. “I can show you the village.” He looked up at Paul and Liora. “Don’t kill me and I will show you where the village it.”