Mortimer was in front of a notice board in the entrance hall, it was the place where neophytes could post up notices to request for enchanting, alchemy, artificing or other services, form up groups to tackle objectives together, or bounty notices for creatures to be killed and have their bodies or souls brought back to the issuer for rewards.

While there were plenty of enchanting requests, he only knew the lesser strength enchantment and his success rate wasn't stellar. He didn’t want to get further in debt if he screwed up.

Instead, he was eyeing a regular bounty to clear out a nest of giant rats that had settled next to their section of the catacombs.

It was issued by a senior neophyte in charge of administration in the catacombs, named Vralya. She was appointed by master Igor, and held the most authority among the neophytes.

“This is the thing you’d be assigned to do if you ditched your duties… but with none of the one common essence reward. Looks like there are not enough delinquents to throw at it this time.”

While Mortimer wasn't eager to go out there and hunt for rats, it was the easiest way to find monsters to kill. It was his fastest way to pay off Bubos for the armor and his three petty essence debt to Gregory for the feydust.

Hunting wildlife in the forest was too slow, he wasn’t the best hunter and his undead’s resin smell would drive off all prey. However, he didn't expect to have any trouble clearing out a giant rat nest as long as he kept his distance from the fighting. In a way, they were just boar sized rats.

With his mind made up, he headed towards Vralya’s office to sign up for the bounty, followed closely behind by his werewolf skeleton.

He hesitantly knocked on the door before entering, leaving his undead to wait outside.

Mortimer was taken aback when he saw the interior. The office looked completely out of place in the underground catacombs. There was a rug covering the rich oak flooring, and a small chandelier hanging from the ceiling was illuminating the room. There was an extensive set of furniture decorating the large room with everything arranged in an aesthetically pleasing fashion.

Vralya was sitting at her desk and enjoying a cup of steaming tea, attended to by a blonde-haired human maid that stood at her side stiffly with no expression.

Mortimer assessed Vralya while he headed for the seat facing her. She had pale white skin, auburn long hair that flowed freely and deep black eyes. She wore a golden accent embroidered black robe. While she still had a youthful appearance, a few signs of aging were present on her face.

He had never met her before and only had a faint recollection from his inherited memories. All he knew is that she was a long time disciple of Igor and one of the most accomplished neophytes in the catacombs.

She waited for him to sit down before speaking. “What is it?” she rested her hands on the desk, looking unblinkingly at him.

He cleared his throat. “I want to help in exterminating the rat nest.”

She scoffed. “Are you sure? There are not just rats out there.”

Mortimer blinked. “There shouldn’t be anything but giant rats or spiders this close to the entrance.”

“Indeed, there shouldn't be.” she sipped the last of her black tea.

He paused for a few seconds. "What kind of things are deeper inside?"

"It's mostly the giant variety of spiders, scorpions, and snakes. While none of them are particularly dangerous alone, getting swarmed and overwhelmed can happen even with these pests."

Her maid stiffly picked up the teapot and poured her another teacup clumsily, slipping a few drops on the red oak desk. Vralya’s face stiffened at the sight, her maid haphazardly soaking the drops with a silk handkerchief.

Mortimer waited for her to finish. “I understand what you’re trying to say, I’ll be careful.”

"What I'm trying to say is, you're still too young and inexperienced. But...you wouldn't be able to fix that if you stay in your room cooped up for the rest of your life. "

She rubbed her chin before nodding. “Very well then, if you insist on going I won't stop you."

She wrote down a note and passed it to Mortimer. "You’re the third ‘volunteer’, it should be enough to get rid of a dozen rats.”

“Here you go, you may leave.”

Mortimer took a cursory glance at the paper before standing up. There were two names written cursively on the note.

“Gruth… and Doland.”

“Do it by tomorrow, or else there will be no reward.” she told him while he was heading for the exit.

Mortimer mumbled to himself. “I didn’t know zombies could look so lifelike…”

Outside the door, he was pondering on the issue of his teammates. While he was unfamiliar with Doland, he knew Gruth from the other day at the colosseum and as Gregory’s lackey. He was worried that the duergar would resent him as well for his affiliation with Melissa and become uncooperative during the mission.

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After going through the corridors and asking a few passing neophytes, he got the location of Doland’s quarters.

He knocked on his door and waited patiently, but got no response. After five minutes of periodically knocking and getting ignored, he got fed up and pulled the door open forcefully.

Doland’s quarters were filled with alchemy glassware strewn over the tables, top covered wicker baskets, a small furnace, and other esoteric alchemy items he did not recognize, left around in a disorganized mess.

But the oddest thing inside was the large green crocodile zombie in the middle of the room. It had a swarm of different mushrooms growing all over its back.

He estimated there were at least a hundred of them. Mortimer recognized only a few of them with his meager knowledge, but all of those were hallucinogenic types. Doland was passed out in his bed, and he hadn’t noticed when he had come in.

Mortimer was perplexed. He wasn’t sure he could even wake up him, let alone clear out a nest of giant rats with him.

“I’m so stupid. Of course, I’d get paired with these types of people when they give out this assignment as punishment.” he rubbed his temples.

Walking up to the passed out Donald, he looked down at him with a frown. He was young with messy brown long hair and patchy facial hair.

Mortimer nudged the slobbering Donald, but he got no reaction from him. Looking around the room for something he could use to wake him up with, he paused when he saw a water canteen.

Donald flinched awake, his face drenched in water. “I’m dro… what? Who are you!?” he pulled the wet hair out of his face and stared at Mortimer with wide-open eyes. The mushroom crocodile turning towards him.

Mortimer was unperturbed. His werewolf skeleton was fast enough to react if he attacked in a moment of grogginess.

“Get your crocodile and let’s go, we have to finish our assignment.” he sternly said to him.

“Assignment?” he looked at Mortimer and then at his undead. “I’m sick… I can’t do it.” he fake coughed and laid back down on his bed.

Mortimer frowned. “Vralya said you’ll be kicked out in the wild to live with your mushrooms if you don’t do it by the end of the day.”

Doland stood back up in a panic. “Is that so… such an injustice to send out a sickly man out to hunt rats…” he fake coughed again. “I’ll sacrifice myself for our interests since miss Vralya insists.”

Mortimer sighed and headed out of the room, followed by a reluctant Doland and his crocodile.

“Do you know where Gruth's room is?” he hopefully inquired.

“Who’s Gruth?”

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After getting the location of Gruth’s chambers from a passing neophyte, they arrived in front of his door.

Mortimer stood aside, glancing at the door and then at Doland. “You knock.”

Doland looked suspiciously at him, then had his crocodile bang its head against the door several times to knock. The hard knocks almost unhinged the door off the frame, eliciting a series of muffled profanities coming from the other side.

The door wildly swung open from the inside, with an infuriated Gruth looking for the offender. He froze when he saw the mushroom covered crocodile looking up at him, his swear words stuck in his throat.

The two inspected him. The fiery-haired duergar looked like an unkempt mess, with heavy eye bags and he gave off a fishy stench that made their noses scrunch up.

Through the upper side of the door frame, they could see a giant red crab laid out on the floor in the middle of the room, with the same brass Gatling gun affixed to its carapace.

Mortimer whistled. “That’s a good idea, it won’t have any issues turning this time.”

Gruth frowned at Mortimer, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to Doland and yelled at him.

“Are you trying to break my door down or something? What, you got mush for brains?” he walked up to Doland and punched him in the most accessible area for him, the thigh.

Doland winced and stepped back, pointing Mortimer out to Gruth. “He told me to knock!”

Mortimer shook his head. “Stop playing around, we have a rat nest to clear out.”

Gruth grumbled, but then his eyes lit up when he heard Mortimer. “Oh, right… right, I can test out my crab on these rats, it’s perfect!”

He ran back inside and filled a satchel with exploration essentials, then slung it over his shoulder and stepped outside to join the other two. The over-sized crab zombie lifted itself off the floor and trailed behind.

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The party of three immediately headed towards the choke point that led deeper into the catacombs once they assembled. The rat nest they had to wipe out was relatively close to the entrance, else no one would have cared have it cleared out.

Vralya didn't want anybody to get a chunk bitten out of them in a moment of carelessness just when they stepped outside the gate by a sneaky giant rat. She was responsible for the lives of the neophytes, and everything would get bogged up if too many got injured.

There were countless weak monster nests deeper in that were just left to be. Those nests were considered resource points for the catacomb’s neophytes, it was an important self-sustaining source of bodies and souls for their growth.

While the area accessible to them was only a shallow underground section, it was easy to get lost and disoriented in the repetitive and entangled dark corridors that spanned over five kilometers.

Gruth eyed Ronald’s mushroom covered crocodile contemplatively. “Are those poison mushrooms?”

“Wouldn't it be easier to leave them around for the rats to eat? We won’t even have to fight.”

Doland smiled awkwardly. “They’re not poison… they’re for my personal use.”

Gruth widened his eyes in realization. “Oh, are mushrooms dishes your favorite kind of food?”

Mortimer snickered. “We’re almost there.”

When they neared the gate, an odd lute sound was coming from its direction The trio looked at each other in puzzlement.

When they arrived before the tall and solid metal gate at the catacomb’s chokepoint, they spotted the person in charge of guarding the gate.

It was a young neophyte with tied back blonde hair, he sat down at a table on the side and was toking on a pipe. His heavily cloaked humanoid undead stood in front of the gate, guarding over it with an over-sized glaive.

On the opposite seat of the table stood a plain human skeleton dressed as a bard with a feather hat. It held a lute in its skeletal arms and played a simple two-note rhythm its boney fingers.

When the trio approached the gate, the playing halted. “What are you here for?”

Mortimer stood out as the spokesperson. “Miss Vralya assigned us to deal with a nest of giant rats.”

He responded with an indifferent tone “All right.”

His cloaked undead left its glaive on the wall to free up its hands, then pulled the groaning solid metal gate open with ease.

The guard neophyte dug through it's pouch and pulled out a pair of blue stones, handing one to Mortimer and setting the other one down on the table. “You’ll find your way back with this when you’re done.”

Mortimer received it and nodded. “Thank you.”

The trio stopped right in front of the open gate with lit torches. They looked at each and nodded with tense expressions, walking walked through followed by their undead.

The heavy gate slammed behind them with a CLANK and the muffled sound of a lute started playing again on the other side.