It was a queer feeling that fell over Autumn as she finally arrived at the foot of the tower of undeath. One of anticipation and dread. Her journey here had not been without danger. Along with dealing with hazardous air and treacherous footing, she also had to be cautious of the prowling scavenger beasts as she crossed the mountains and plains of the dead. Packs of savage, skinless dogs inhabited the cavern, scavenging through the putrid mounds for the best pieces of meat, all the while avoiding the predatory eyes of the flocks of massive, horse-sized murder-crows that ruled the skies.

Thankfully, she successfully passed by them unnoticed.

Autumn now gazed up dumbly at the black and white pillar to necromantic sin, trying to comprehend the make and scale of its construction. Clearly, some foul-natured mage had constructed it out of untold thousands of bones from various sources, judging by the striations cast within and details adorning it. Yet for all its disparate nature and mixed materials, the surface was as smooth as glass; a testament to the ancient mage’s skill.

To get into the keep—as was Autumn’s will—was no simple task, for the entryway into the structure was not at ‘ground’ level. Several feet above her stood a set of massive black-iron doors, set flush to the bone-white walls, and the only way to them was up a rather interesting-looking stairwell. The skeletal remains of a legendary-sized serpent weaved its way to the black doors up above with a jagged spine transformed into a path of cut steps.

Under the might of a necromancer, this serpentine skeleton would serve as one helluva drawbridge. Or at least, Autumn thought so.

Taking shallow breaths, Autumn ascended the winding stairs. She expected the bone steps to be slippery and challenging to climb, but her frayed boots found plenty of traction on the rough-textured surface. A lot of pride had gone into the creation of this strange stairwell.

Just as Autumn was cresting the last few steps, the black-iron doors creaked ominously open. She froze in fright and her heart skipped a beat as a loud voice boomed out.

“Who dares tread on my domain!!!”

Autumn’s mind stuttered to a halt as she took in the familiar figure before her.

Standing tall in the ethereal glow of the doorway was a roguish figure bearing cherry-red skin and a flirtatious smile. Fresh scars adorned a grinning face while messy red hair hung longer than Autumn remembered down to a set of slim shoulders hidden beneath a leather coat that’d seen better days. A cocked hip drew Autumn’s eyes to a familiar sheathed kraken-hilted cutlass resting against tattered striped pants.

“Liddie?” Autumn asked in disbelief, her voice barely escaping her.

While Liddie had never been a stocky individual, she’d never looked as thin as she was now. Her classic pirate’s attire hung loose on her frame, making her look fragile. Granted, Autumn could say the same about herself.

A pair of glowing orange eyes curled up. “Who else could look this fine?”

Cautiously, like a frightened rabbit ready to bolt, Autumn approached the rogue.

“You–you're real, right? I-if you're a h-hag, y-you have to tell me.” Autumn said as she stopped just out of arm’s reach. “T-those are the rules.”

Liddie’s easy and teasing smile wavered. Slowly, she raised her hand off of her cutlass where it’d been idly resting, showing her open hands to the wary witch watching her with wild and wide, paranoid eyes.

“Yeah.” Liddie spoke softly, afraid of spooking her. “I’m me. No duplicates, substitutes, or counterfeits allowed. I could show you some of my scars if you want, the one you saw on my—oof~”

The pirate’s words cut off as a witch crashed into her stomach, staggering her back; the familiarity of her body language having given her away. Desperate, longing arms wrapped themselves tightly around a thin waist as Autumn buried her tears into an already grim-stained blouse. Neither of them paid much mind to the gore that Autumn was spreading as she did so.

Taken aback, Liddie hesitated a second as the witch’s silent, heaving sobs rocked her body. A soft sigh eventually escaped her lips and she gently placed her hand atop Autumn's head, pressing down on the witch’s hat to do so.

“You’ve had it rough, haven’t you?” Liddie said as she affectionately patted Autumn’s head. “Alright, come on, let’s get inside and out of the miasma. Ugh~ You stink something fierce. Please tell me you still have that cleaning spell of yours?”

Carefully, Liddie guided the tear-stricken witch inside. It took a bit given that Autumn refused to let go.

The interior of the tower was no less macabre than its exterior. An expansive gothic cathedral-like foyer greeted Autumn’s eyes as she entered. Behind her, the black-iron doors closed with a loud bang, causing her to jolt in Liddie’s arms. In an instant, the miasmic smells of the outside cut off, besides those still clinging to Autumn’s robes, that was. Spread out evenly down the massive hall were towering columns of bone decorated with grinning humanoid skulls, some bearing strange features; sharper teeth, elongated skulls, horns, more eyes, fewer eyes, no eyes. The walls, too, bore their ilk and at regular intervals along them, some of the wicked skulls emitted pale lights from their hollow eyes to cast the hall in a grim illumination.

Liddie guided Autumn past several of the pillars towards a makeshift encampment of battered tents and scavenged furniture that sat in the center of the hall. No signs of life stirred as they approached.

Off to the side, Autumn spied a neat row of cloth covered bodies.

“Is that—are those?” Autumn asked fearfully between sobbing hiccups.

Liddie followed Autumn’s gaze, alighting upon the bodies. A look of understanding flashed quickly across her face.

“Oh, no.” Liddie reassured her, “Those are some of the Duskguard that traveled with us, plus Sverr—one of the Lepus adventurers. Edwyn and Nelva are alive, upstairs somewhere. They’re trying to work through all the traps and undead. I’ll tell you more later, but first let’s get you cleaned up. By the way, can you cast that cleaning spell of yours?”

Autumn breathed a sigh of relief before answering. “No, sorry, I lost my wand and I can’t cast that spell without it, at least not yet, anyway.”

“Pity, I was kinda looking forward to not smelling like a charnel house.” Liddie pouted. “No matter, we’ve got a rudimentary shower set up. Don’t get your hopes up though, it’s just a bucket of cold water and a ragged cloth, but hey, there might be some soap left if you’re lucky.”

Autumn perked up.

“Do you have any spare clothes I could borrow? Mine are all wet.”

Liddie tapped her lips as she thought. “Well, I’m already down to my spare set and, to be honest, it wouldn’t have fit you, anyway.” She glared meaningfully at Autumn’s larger chest. Autumn just huffed a small tired laugh. “However, if you don’t mind a bit of dustiness, I’ve got something that just might work.”

After she finally managed to detach Autumn with the promise of bathing and dry clothes, Liddie zipped over one of the large crates that were haphazardly sitting beside the tents. Autumn politely averted her gaze when Liddie bent over the lip of the crate to rummage around inside.

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…ok, maybe she looked a little longer than strictly necessary, but who could blame her? Liddie possessed some rather charming pirate loot.

With a bit of time on her hands, Autumn cast her gaze around the rest of the camp. In the center stood a strange contraption made of black-iron that blazed with odd runes. A comfortable heat rolled off of it, drawing Autumn further in. Standing beside the warmth, she cast her gaze now to the old and battered crates stacked up beside the tents, much like the one Liddie was currently ransacking. Presumably, all of them were brimming with pilfered goods, judging by the opened ones she could glimpse inside. What she saw in them was mostly old arms and armor made of black-iron. However, in some, she spied other things, such as candelabras, sets of cutlery, combs, and other miscellaneous goods, all made of that same dark metal.

Curious, Autumn plucked out a comb to examine. It was of rather fine make; the teeth were straight and unbroken, and the skulls embossed into it didn’t put her off too much either.

“Hey, Liddie?” Autumn called out over her shoulder as she played with the comb.

“Yeah?” Liddie’s voice came back muffled by the crate she was still rummaging through.

“Can I have one of these combs? I think I lost mine, or I just left it back in Duskfields.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Liddie spoke distractedly, as she hauled something heavy out of her way while still in the crate, “most of this stuff will just end up melted down, anyway. Necromancer stuff is like super-duper illegal. Most fences won’t even buy black-iron on the black market either, the pansies.”

“What exactly is black-iron? Some kind of alloy?” Autumn asked as she flicked her gaze back to Liddie.

Thankfully—or perhaps not, depending how you looked at it—the pirate had retracted herself from the crate. She now stood facing Autumn with an ancient-looking and frayed gambeson held in her hands. She shrugged at Autumn’s words.

“Don’t ask me. All I know is that it doesn’t sell all that well, even though it’s iron, and you can only find it around necromancers. You can make a reasonable guess as to the why of it yourself. Or you could just ask Edwyn when they get back. Now stop staring at my arse and go and get cleaned.”

“I wasn’t—you!—urg.” Autumn hurriedly tried to deny the accusation until she noticed the grin creeping onto the pirate’s face.

A blush crept up Autumn’s neck to bloom upon her cheeks as she huffed and sped off towards the rudimentary shower, not forgetting to take the gambeson as she went.

Liddie chuckled, her eyes softening as she watched the witch depart.

“Hey, just put all your wet stuff off to the side. Once it’s clean, we can dry it off with Edwyn’s rune-heater-thingy.” Liddie said, to which she got an embarrassed nod in reply.

The ‘shower’ that Autumn eventually found hidden behind a pillar atop a series of suspiciously red-tinged grates was little more than a bucket of cold water tinged reddish-brown, a few clumps of soft soap, and an old rag, just as Liddie had said. Thankfully, someone had erected a privy curtain around it out of what looked like old, moth-eaten curtains.

With the option to regain even a semblance of cleanliness placed before her, Autumn found the current state of her befouled garments simply unacceptable. She peeled each layer of her outfit off in haste, casting it to the white floor outside her little oasis of purity where it landed with a sickening squelch till all she was left wearing was her soul-cage amulet.

The cold metal rolled between Autumn’s fingers as she contemplated removing it. In some mysterious, arcane way, the banshee could see out of her cage, and while the idea of being watched while she bathed was unsettling, Autumn couldn’t bring herself to remove it as its coldness soothed her frayed nerves. Plus, the banshee had already seen Autumn do more objectionable things by now.

Letting it fall back down to her chest, Autumn snatched up what was left of the soap and the old rag.

Autumn took to her body with a vengeance to cleanse herself of the repulsive substances still clinging to her until her skin turned a bright, flushed red. A wetted comb methodically ran through her long black locks, pulling free gunk and matted knots.

When she’d finished her assault upon grime and the bucket of water had taken on a horrid hue, Autumn looked over her body and couldn’t help but grimace at the state her body was in.

Before their journey in the dark, Autumn’s build was of athletic proportions that was steadily growing into a more muscular fighter’s build. Now, she was far more lean. Her ribs stood out starkly as the mottled greens and blues of bruised skin pulled tight against them. Her pride-worthy muscles, won by ruthless practice, had shrunk. And worst of all, her breasts had been downsized, although they were still larger than Liddie’s.

Not that crossing that bar was all that difficult.

Scattered across her body were fresh scars, ranging from cuts and gashes on her fingers and arms to the disgusting, maggot-like lines on her abdomen. Just looking at them made Autumn feel sick to her stomach.

Shaking off her inspection, Autumn took a look at the gambeson Liddie had found for her. It was an old and battered thing, but still looked serviceable. Donning it, Autumn clasped the front together with a trio of leather straps and iron buckles.

Thankfully, the protective garment came down to her mid thigh, as she wasn’t wearing anything beneath. Her spare pair of underwear was still soaked, and she refused to wear the ones she’d been wearing for days on end. She’d just have to be mindful not to sit cross-legged before her spares were dry.

Autumn emerged from around the corner and fell into the sight of the flirtatious pirate.

Liddie wolf-whistled. “Looking good!”

A wave of social embarrassment rolled over Autumn as she recalled her actions not a moment prior, acting like some lost puppy finding a way home or some wayward child finding home. Her ears grew hot as unshed tears pricked her eyes. Swallowing down her anxiety, Autumn gestured down at herself.

“I look stupid.”

“You look ravishing, my dear.” Liddie grinned. “Or is it that you looked ravished?”

Autumn snorted. “I know what you’re doing. And thanks.”

Liddie gasped, mock-offended.

“Are you accusing me of tact?! I’ll not stand for this insult! It’ll be swords at dawn, Autumn! Or bedsheets at dusk if you prefer, grrr!” She wiggled her eyebrows at Autumn, who was quietly chuckling at her.

Autumn needed the laughter, like a desert nomad needed water, or a shipwrecked sailor needed land.

“Tempting, but the locale isn’t ideal.”

Liddie paused.

“Wait for the duel or the sex? Autumn? Hey, don’t ignore me! Which one?!” She playfully winned as Autumn kept silent, a slight teasing smirk brushing the witch’s lips.

To be honest, she wasn’t so sure herself.

Still smiling, the pair set out to carefully collect up Autumn's discarded clothing to be washed. Autumn opening up her shadow to wash off the worst of the grime into the icy black waters shocked Liddie initially, although she was quick to shake off her surprise in favor of asking whether it was drinkable. And at Autumn’s hazy affirmation, it was the young witch’s turn to be shocked as Liddie scooped up a handful to drink.

“What?! Why did you do that?! Didn’t I just say I was unsure?!” Autumn yelled.

Liddie grinned, although it was tempered by a shudder as the oily water coated her throat. “You forget I was a sailor; I’ve drunk worse. Our closest, uncontaminated water source is a river outside the cavern at least half a day away, so a full day there and back. If we can get water here, that saves us a lot of energy.”

Still, Autumn huffed.

“It might not be uncontaminated though. I’ve only just learnt how to use this power and I know nothing about that place.”

“You’re still fine, right?” Liddie prodded, “so, I’ll take my chances. Dying of thirst is no joke, you know? I’ve been there, done that. Now, let’s fill up the water stores before we wash all that muck into your shadow, just in case.” She nodded to herself as she made her way over to a series of empty barrels and water-skins. “After that we can get some food cooking as the others will be down soon.”

Liddie snapped her fingers as she remembered something.

“Oh, that’s right, I almost forgot. I found your kitty cat lost in one of the tunnels…you might want to check up on her; she’s in a bad way.”

Autumn blinked. “Kitty cat? You don’t mean Eme, do you?”

Liddie nodded towards one of the closed up tents. “Yeah, that’s her. She’s…well…you’d best see for yourself. She won’t talk to the rest of us. You might have a better chance, though, maybe?”

Autumn glanced over to the tent Liddie had indicated. She didn’t have much of a connection with the strange catgirl aside from the one drunken night they’d spent together. The hazy memories seemed so long ago, but they still brought a blush to her cheeks.

After helping to fill up the water stores with Liddie, Autumn left the pirate behind to make her way over to Eme’s tent. She now stood before the closed entry, swallowing nervously. Inside, she could hear muffled sniffles.

Reaching out, Autumn gently knocked on the lid of a crate beside her.

“Hello? Eme? It’s me, Autumn. F-from the inn—I mean, from the Dusk Wolves part. Can I come in?”

Silence lingered a beat before a raspy voice called out, wet with sorrow.

“Autumn? You’re here? ‘Sniffle’ Umm, yeah, you can come in.”

Steeling herself, Autumn entered the tent.