Lord Pinkytoes allowed himself to be handed to the Herbed One.
He endured a tight hug from the female and shivered as the smell of that herb filled his nostrils.
She noticed and smiled at him.
“Oh! You want some Catnip, do you?” She pulled a sprig from her Inventory and his eyes widened as she brought it closer to his face.
Unable to hold back, his paws reached for the herb and he buried his face in it.
The smell!
The sweet delightful smell! It conjured images in his head. Glorious images. Eyes rolling in his skull, he hugged the sprig tight as he envisioned a road filled with the bodies of everything he’d killed so far.
It wasn’t enough. The road was too short.
He was hit by the knowledge that he needed more bodies to make the road longer.
He was lost to his dream when the Herbed One suddenly scratched his head just behind his ear and electricity shot down his spine.
That felt… good!
More! He wanted more! He snatched at her hand.
“Mew!”
Obediently, she scratched his ear some more as he started to purr.
Having servants might be nice, he thought. Perhaps he would show the trio mercy and not kill them in their sleep tonight.
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Worm frowned at the creature which seemed content in Daisy’s arms as she teased it with a sprig of catnip and scritches. “How does a cat even get a title?”
“I think it was an Achievement reward,” Petal said. “He seems to have killed a large number of moths. There must be no other monster in the region with more kills than him.”
“Moths? But they’re worth no Experience Points at all. They’re just critters. How can you get an achievement for that?”
“It was a lot of moths.”
It didn’t seem fair, he thought sourly.
It was as though the universe was taunting him. He’d lost his title and now the universe threw a Level Two Kitten at him which had already earned one itself simply by eating a bunch of moths.
Then again, maybe it was the universe trying to tell him something. Maybe if he killed a lot of critters…
His eyes widened at the possibility.
“I don’t think so,” Petal said, reading his expression a little too well. “My guess is it’s an Achievement only available to creatures.”
Worm’s shoulder slumped. “Bugger.”
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One day, almost three hundred years ago, Dudley Darkthrone found himself on the outskirts of the Weird Woods. He could see shadows shifting behind the trees where foul and terrifying monsters lurked.
He knew the place had a poor reputation and Adventurers frequently went into the Woods and never returned.
But Dudley wasn’t afraid.
He had a Wyrmscale Robe, Netherweave boots, and a Dragontalon Wand.
All he saw when he looked into the woods was a never-ending flow of monsters to feed his advancement to Max Level.
Shifting in the polished saddle of his Undead Mount, he motioned to the small army of Skeletons behind him. Imperiously, he pointed to a nice open space between two Oak trees. “Right there will be fine, Richard.”
“Yes, Master.” The Skeleton spoke in a soft eerie voice. The kind of voice which comes from a creature with no vocal cords. “We obey.”
Dudley sat proudly upon his steed and watched with growing excitement as his minions began to build the finest tower the world would ever see.
He had no doubt that, in a thousand years, it would be the centre of a new kingdom. A kingdom named after him, of course.
And, right here next to his tower, would be a massive statue sculpted from obsidian or something just as spooky. Was there anything spookier than obsidian, though?
Less than two days later, he stood before the tall stone tower his minions had built and smiled.
“It’s perfect.”
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“It’s a joke,” Worm said, stamping his foot in disgust. “It has to be. How can anyone seriously call this a tower?”
Petal, hands on hips, stared at what was left of the structure. “I agree it’s a bit of a stretch.”
Calling it a ruin was being generous.
At some stage, it appeared most of the tower had either been blown down by a strong breeze or pushed over by a passing monster. Either way, rubble was laid out like the shattered remains of an old tree trunk.
The crumpled base of the tower in the middle of the field offered a slim promise of shelter for the night, but it was doubtful anything served as a roof. Which wouldn’t have mattered if the clouds hadn’t gathered in the last hour and started testing the air around them with spots of rain.
The Necromancer looked up at the sky and wondered what he’d done which had so angered the universe.
“It’s okay, Master,” Daisy said softly, sensing his spiralling mood. “I’m here for you.”
Oh yeah.
That.
He let out a sigh and accepted his fate as thunder growled over the Woods.
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For Worm, life didn’t rain. It poured.
So, too, does the rain near the Weird Woods as he found out in the next few minutes.
The party dashed towards the flimsy mound of rubble. The heavy wooden door had long ago rotted away, leaving a gaping archway framed by a thorny vine.
Lord Pinkytoes let out an outraged mew as a raindrop dared to splash onto his fur. He burrowed deeper into Daisy’s arms as she skipped along behind her Master.
Petal dove into the murky darkness first, sword in hand.
Worm staggered inside behind her.
“Magelight,” he snapped, holding out his hand as a bright ball of blue light burst into life and hovered just above his open palm like a small cold sun.
Shockingly, there was a roof of sorts. The vine had grown across the stones above, drilling its roots tight into the crevices and slowly replacing the wooden beams with its own passive grip to accidentally reinforce the crumbling architecture.
The ground was a mix of shattered stone tiles and mud but was surprisingly clear of any other debris.
Which was why the trio were able to clearly see the little hatch at the back of the room which led to the cellar.
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“That looks ominous,” Daisy said, hugging the Kitten close.
As soon as the words left her mouth, an enraged shriek pierced the night.
Worm rolled his eyes. “You just had to say something, didn’t you?”
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He was about to express his disappointment in regards to the accommodation when he got a notification.
He blinked at it. Notifications were rare and, in his life, he’d only seen two before.
This one was long and hard to read. There were too many words which seemed to on and on forever.
None of it made sense.
Irritated, he made to swipe the notification away when something caught his eye.
Claim Location?
It had obviously recognised that the land was his. Nodding in satisfaction, he selected Yes and was rewarded with a polite tinkle of a bell.
Lord Pinkytoes purred happily at the sound.
And Worm screamed.
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“How can he claim it?” The Necromancer jabbed a finger at the Kitten in Daisy’s arms, who swiped at the offending digit. “He’s a bloody cat!”
“He’s also the highest ranking noble in the region,” Petal said. “I’d guess nobles get a perk which allows them to claim unclaimed lands.”
“But the Tower is mine! I was given it by the Dungeon Master Guild!”
“Technically, according to Property Laws six-oh-seven subsection F, if this was an abandoned site, then they didn’t have the legal right to do so,” Daisy said. Then shrugged when they both frowned at her. “What? I did a course on Property Law once. Daddy said it would be useful.”
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Lord Pinkytoes studied the options in front of him.
He was delighted to see he could see the Nameplates of everyone in his realm, including the fish in a nearby pond. He’d have to go visit them very soon. Perhaps when the rain stopped.
Disappointingly, there didn’t seem to be anything in there about moths.
There was something about beds, but nothing to say whether his would be in a nice sunny spot or somewhere dank like the room they were in.
Some of the options for his servants were greyed out. He didn’t like that, either.
Especially because one was for a Groom. The description seemed to involve a lot of brushing. He liked the sound of that.
Having someone brush his fur all day would be nice.
And the Chef option also sounded good. He could use a servant who’d spend their day making delicious snacks.
Annoyed that the good options seemed to be greyed out, he glanced at the uninteresting ones available to him for now.
The Dangerous One seemed the best choice for House Guard, so he dragged her into that slot.
He enjoyed the Herbed One’s devotions to scritches and catnip, so slid her into the Maid slot which had descriptions involving cleaning and personal services. She might like that role, he thought.
That left the Weak One.
He wasn’t sure what to do with him.
He thought about giving him the role of Gardener, but didn’t think the Weak One was capable of such a physical role even if it would be nice to have a garden full of catnip to roll around in.
Eyeing the Weak One carefully, he realised the human didn’t have the necessary physicality for the Hunter role either. With a sigh, he slid the Weak One into the only role he thought he could handle. That of Steward.
As for what to do with the other listed Occupant, he’d have to decide what to do with her when he met her face to face.
After all, he thought with a solemn nod to himself, you shouldn’t judge someone by their Nameplate.
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“Steward?” Worm sputtered. “This can’t be happening. It wants me to be Steward for a cat!”
Daisy gave Lord Pinkytoes some happy scritches. “He asked me to be his Maid. I said yes, Master. I hope you don’t mind. I can still be your Undead Servant, of course, but it’d have to be outside my normal working hours.”
“I got House Guard,” Petal said. “I guess the creature knows us fairly well. They’re decent choices.”
“Decent choices?” Worm’s face twisted with fury and an Enraged buff ticked down. “The bloody thing just stole my tower!”
“Well, you could challenge it,” Daisy said.
“Challenge?” Worm’s eyes lit up at the idea of using Lifedrain on the cat. “Alright. That makes sense. I like that. It’s a great option. Let’s do it. I’ll kill him, and then the tower will be mine.”
“No. If you kill him, you’ll get a Bounty on your head,” Petal said. “You need permission from the King if you want to kill a noble. To be honest, I doubt you’d get it.”
“It’s a cat!”
“Petal’s right,” Daisy confirmed. “He’s still a noble. It’s right there in his Nameplate.”
“Then how do I challenge him?”
“It’d be a legal challenge, Master. Not a physical one. You need to lodge a dispute with the Department of Property and Housing.” She tapped her chin as she dredged information from her course. “Then you’ll get to go before a Magistrate and both sides will argue their case. It might be difficult for Lord Pinkytoes to make a proper argument for himself because, well, he is a cat.”
Worm snapped his fingers, pointing at the beast in her arms. “There. You hear that, cat? I’ll lodge the papers first thing. And you’ll be lucky to get Ratcatcher role when I’m done.”
“Of course, the magistrate may decide in your favour, but it’s rare they’ll rule against a noble,” Daisy said. “The King doesn’t like when the law upsets his nobles.”
Worm felt like his body was about to explode. “But it’s just a bloody cat!”
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The cellar was indeed haunted.
It was also much larger than anyone would expect. It represented the Occupant’s efforts to create a sanctuary beneath the ruins. Over the years, she’d transformed the filthy cellar into a subterranean castle which exuded warmth and grandeur in every inch of its luxurious space.
She’d hired Dwarves to build it and their exquisite work seamlessly blended flawless stonework with polished wood which gleamed under strategically placed torches.
The rich velvet curtains, more decorative than functional, adorned faux windows to add a touch of royal whimsy to the stone walls. Luxurious carpets covered the floors with intricate gold-threaded patterns and deep red hues complementing the elegant furnishings scattered thoughtfully in each room.
The library contained plush armchairs and ornate tables surrounded by bookshelves filled with ancient tomes and curious artifacts. A little fireplace hugged the wall to fill the room with its warm cozy glow.
It was a lair of comfort, taste, and warmth in stark contrast to the bleak and overgrown ruin above.
Its Occupant had woken only recently with a heart made happy by the knowledge she was alone, safe, and surrounded by everything she held dear.
As she glared hatefully at the ladder leading to the cellar’s hatch, she pondered what breed of intruders would be suicidal enough to ignore her reputation for assisting in the disappearance of passing travelers. Surely the local townsfolk had tried to warn them off.
She began to climb the ladder with a snarl on her face.
Fools may never learn, she thought, but at least their bodies would provide sustenance.
Sweet delicious sustenance…
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Worm felt an uncomfortable buzz in the pit of his belly.
Frowning, he did a slow circle before focusing his attention on the small hatch at the back of the room. Slowly, he lifted his palm so the Magelight filled more of the room.
Petal noticed his sudden change of mood and took a tighter grip on her sword. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But my Detect Undead skill just activated.”
“Really?” Daisy bounced gently on her heels. “Is it zombies?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “I can’t tell. I only have one point in it.”
“Oh, I do hope it’s zombies,” she said. “It’d be nice to have some new friends.”
Lord Pinkytoes hissed as the hatch twitched. The Kitten’s tail swished violently and he clawed himself free to dash away from the hatch and behind a small pile of rubble left neatly in the corner.
“Coward,” Worm muttered.
“He’s a noble,” Petal said, as if that explained everything. “He probably gets a buff when hiding from trouble.”
Offended, Worm wanted to snap back at her. But instead ground his teeth and reminded himself he’d lost his noble status. Which was why, at times like this, he secretly knew he also missed that buff.
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The hatch opened with a creepy scraping sound and a slender white hand grabbed at the edge.
Pale and bloodless, with long clawed nails the colour of night, it made Petal shudder in horror.
Two red eyes peered out at them from the depths.
“Intruders,” hissed a voice which dripped evil. “How dare you try to take my lair!”
“Technically, it was an abandoned site,” Daisy pointed out.
“It’s mine!” The hatch flew open and a monstrous creature dressed in white flashed out of the hole in the floor and hovered weightless before them.
She was tall and graceful. Her alabaster skin as pale as her immaculate white dress of silk and delicate lace
Long black hair, arranged in artfully tousled ringlets, cascaded down her shoulders to frame a face of idyllic beauty that if she’d remained perfectly still, she could have been mistaken for a classical sculpture of a Goddess.
The only colour to her were the twin red eyes which reflected the bright crimson of her lips curling back to unveil gleaming white fangs.
“A Vampire,” Petal breathed, heart pounding in her chest. “Tell me someone here has garlic and a stake…”
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After leaving the Mercenary Guild, Petal had fought a Vampire alongside a small team of Adventurers.
They’d tracked the creature through the sewers and found its lair deep beneath the city. In hindsight, this was a stupid thing to do.
Their Healer died first. The Vampire had known what he was doing.
That’s when Petal had called for a tactical retreat. Everyone else had agreed.
The Vampire pursued them through the maze of tunnels as they ran desperately towards the surface. His mocking laugh as he took them down one by one still gave her nightmares which made her wake screaming in a cold sweat.
The last to die was the Rogue.
A Halfling called Tatterfoot.
She’d watched the monster tear out Tatterfoot’s throat with a gory crunch of his heavy fangs.
Feeling the skin crawl down her shoulders and back, the Mercenary now took a half-step away from the creature floating above the hatch and prepared to run one more time.
Mentally, she was already apologizing to Worm for running away and leaving him to the bloodthirsty creature. She knew she’d have a few more nightmares now and then, but she could live with those.
After all, at the end of the day, every Mercenary worth their salt needs to know when it’s time to roach.
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The vampire hissed in the same way Lord Pinkytoes had only moments before. Her long fingers curled like claws. “You think a stake can stop me?” She looked outraged by the suggestion. “I’m not just a Vampire. I’m a Master Vampire!”
“She’s right,” Worm said, squinting at the Vampire’s Nameplate. “Cordelia Covencrest. Level Forty-Three Vampire, with a Master Vampire Sub-Class. It makes her immune to stakes. And garlic. Sunlight still hurts her, though.”
“We’ve got a long wait until it comes up again,” Daisy said. “What shall we do until then? I think I’ve got a deck of cards in my Inventory…”
“You’ll all be dead by dawn,” the Master Vampire cackled, voice rising to an insane shriek. “And I’ll have feasted on your blood!”
“I don’t have any blood,” Daisy pointed out.
The Vampire paused. “What?”
“I’m an Undead Servant,” she said. “I don’t have blood.”
If the Vampire could have paled any further, she would have. Her bright red eyes widened in panic as she looked from Petal then to Worm. “Then you’re…”
“A Necromancer?” His smile was a vicious thread of smugness across his face. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No. Sorry. I’m not.” He lifted his other hand and activated one of his core skills. “Control Undead.”