"I don't know who he was, it was just a worshiper of Benesant. Let me out of here." Nadia struggled pathetically against the restraints.

"Nadia. You received specific instructions from a higher power, I can't accept the answer that you heard a random rumor. I can't justify that." Scratch waggled the hot poke at her face like a strict finger.

He hadn't hurt her yet with it, but it certainly could take an eye out.

She closed her eyes and turned her face away from the scary object. They were seated in the now more-or-less official prison cell of the Promise, right next to the gatehouse.

Sara had been the leader of the rebellion, but she had already been released. After being demoted from her position as brood mother and given a job in the capital. Nadia, on the other hand, had vital information that she wasn't sharing.

"Be reasonable Nads. You have glowing piece of metal in your face, I don't need a name. Give me a time and a place, a general description."

"Eeh! Fine! Fine! I'll tell you. It was an adventurer, a paladin! With a blue cloak. She- get that thing out of my face- she came to the warrens specifically to tell me. She mentioned that she would go home via boat."

"Thank you. Nadia... thank you. You can go home now."

Leaving the cell he handed one of his sons the poker. "Tell Mac to tell Mabel to tell somebody from the thieves' guild to keep an eye out for any blue cloaked paladin trying to take the ferry in Eston. And Nadia can go back to the high lands if she wants. She should scale back on birthing though, she looks like she's doing it faster than her body can recover."

"Okay... "

"None of the usual guards are in town right now, are they?"

"You had Aimone and Audace help build more sewers, and the others are escorting a caravan. But there's no more adventurers that come here, so it's fine... right?"

He patted him on the back, as high as he could reach at least. "Now come, let's try your mother's cooking, huh?"

-

Instead of sharing in the communal pot of the camp, Lydia had put on a blacksmith's apron and had taken up cooking for her household.

"That smells wonderful, goulash?" Scratch walked into the side kitchen and took off his hat.

"Scratchy. Give me a kiss." She bended over and he stood on his toes for a quick peck on the lips.

"It's an experimental dish." She said. "I have neither the knowledge nor the ingredients of the servants that used to make my shepard's pie. But Quiet has been a big help."

Quiet stood behind her and Scratch gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder.

"Can you get the kids to calm down and set the table for dinner?" She asked.

That surprised him. Of the two of them she had always been the one with the sterner voice and stronger authority.

The hobgoblins were wildly shouting over each other and spectating as Ada and Will were holding a fistfight on the dinner table.

"Hey, HEY! Cut that out."

They sheepishly climbed down.

"You're starting fights with each other again?"

"It was just a game."

"We were playing a troll game."

He looked at their bruised faces and sighed. "I guess poor Jasper has to keep fixing you up, huh? One of you better start learning healing magic as well, and games we play outside, not on the dinner table. Now get rid of all this dirt you're tracking in the house before your mother sees."

"Probably wouldn't even say anything..." Ada mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Second was brooding quietly somewhere upstairs and had to be called down. Bree was somewhere out in the town and Will went out to fetch her.

But eventually, they were all seated around the crooked family table, divvying up a random amount of meat pies.

Many of them had had burned crusts cut off them, or had burst in the stone oven. But they certainly passed the taste test.

"None of this is imported from Eston." Lydia mentioned. "We received the ingredients from the girls in the colonies."

"Hm, goblin mystery meat, huh?"

She laughed, "It's mule and venison."

"Well it's lovely. I was just saying to Trevor, I think everything's about back to normal now. The girls are doing their part again, we've got the trolls to back off, and the goods are being shipped again."

"Aren't there still rebel goblins though?" Jasper wondered aloud.

"Eat your mule and venison boy."

"And Lacrima moved in on the lower levels, so we can't do whatever we want there anymore. She keeps an eye on us." Constantine added with his mouth full.

Scratch sighed, "close enough to normal anyway. Why did you all start fighting each other in the first place?"

"It wasn't on purpose!" Ada protested.

Constantine was quick to point fingers. "Ada wanted to raid humans and mom said no. Then Sara started saying we weren't, uhm... 'in control' anymore."

She threw a fork at him.

"Sara was right," Scratch pointed out. "Ada, you wanted to be the boss, but you never really thought about what keeps a boss in charge."

She avoided looking in his eyes. "...can I have my fork back?"

"Can you tell me what's necessary for being the boss?" Scratch asked.

"Everybody has to do what you say." Felix suggested.

"Must be the strongest." Bree smacked.

Lydia gave a knowing smile. "Power is protected by underlings."

He snapped his fingers. "Exactly, you should listen to your mother more often."

Ada looked at him with a frown. "But what does that mean?"

"You may think of me as a big boss. But I can't get all the goblins in all the tribes to do whatever I want all the time. The mothers control the colonies."

She crossed her arms. "Yeah, but the mothers disobeyed me. Then there's nothing I could do, right?"

"Wrong. The mothers are people, like you and I. All people at all times do all things out of self interest, I taught you that many times over. If they rebel, it's because they get more out of betrayal than out of loyalty."

"Don't you remember, Ada?" Lydia added, "you made Sara our enemy because you turned her territory into a fighting ground. With the raids."

"Sara was a big player, a lot of the other women deferred to her." Scratch explained. "Part of being in control is bribing and satisfying those key underlings in order to keep them supporting your position. Did you ever think about who you had to keep on your side, Ada?"

"No." She covered up her face. "I just wanted to be the boss."

"What goes for the forest also goes for right here and down below." Scratch added. "Your dear mother controls the bandits for us, and Barbara is our guild liaison. I do my best to keep them both very happy, don't I baby?"

"Hmm... you could do a little more." She quipped.

"Ha! But you do know why I'm explaining this, don't you Ada?"

"Why?" she asked weakly.

"Because I want you to do a better job next time."

"Next time?"

"Next time."

"Right." That perked her up.

"I don't want you to die again, Scratch." Lydia said. "How were you able to come back anyhow?"

"You know Benesant?"

"..."

"She has this fixation on keeping me here as some sort of punishment. She got Nadia to help her out this time, and I had to wriggle myself all sorts of ways trying to get out. I thought we could come to some sort of mutual understanding at first, told her way too much too, but no-"

"Benesant, the goddess."

"That's the bitch. Might have to have her killed soon."

"...okay..." She looked down on her food again.

After that the conversation changed topics to the game of playing troll, the game where the kids would punch each other over and over to establish who was the boss.

A few hours later the parents were alone together in the master bedroom.

Scratch was laying on top of Lydia's chest.

"What happened to the hard-ass?" He asked. "I didn't expect you to to turn into a housewife."

"Is that bad?"

"Is that bad? Is that bad. I wouldn't know, I mean it's your identity. Are you happy?"

She exhaled deeply. "I lost confidence. When you were gone. I felt like... a child. I suppose I feel more secure knowing you're in charge."

"Look at this," he suddenly said "I nicked it from the grave next to the picture of Ada screwing up."

In his hand was a whisk card of himself without a suit but with a toga, eye-patch, and some teeth missing. The depiction showed him standing on some unseen dais with multiplied clothed goblins reaching out and touching him like a saint. The title said 'Scratch, goblin patriarch.'

"Your world memory." She noted, "from when you died."

"Yes. I have another one. When you moved in and started bossing us around," he explained, "it said 'goblin boss' on that one. I had it explained to me that it appeared because it was no longer true. I wasn't 'the boss' anymore."

"Oh, Scratch." She hugged him tighter.

"But, like, a patriarch is an upgrade from a boss, isn't it?" He mused. "So I was all insecure over nothing."

She touched the picture. "When you first lost your teeth... you seemed so innocent to me. That look. It was like you were only just growing your adult set. That was when I could see us sharing a bed."

"Innocent? You're a little freak aren't you? Well, having all my teeth I can do this!"

"Haha, oh no, stop!"

Their foreplay was interrupted by a sudden lightning strike and a loud hissing noise coming from outside.

"What in the hell?" Scratch went to the window. "It was such a clear night a moment a-"

Not a single star was visible in the sky, swirling clouds of inky blackness spiraled down from the heavens and right into the stone in front of the Promise entrance.

As it flowed on to the ground it spread out over the streets, lingering as half a foot of ominous black smoke.

Where it had come down now stood a tremendously tall figure, almost eight feet in height. Stunningly, it the skull of an ox instead of a head.

The body underneath was broad shouldered and draped in cloth, as black as the smog. It began to glide through the blackness towards the manor, the blackness of its cloak blending in seamlessly with the black carpet of smoke.

"Is that... death? Is that the actual grim reaper coming to our house?" Scratch shouted at least as indignant as he was disturbed.

"Evacuate the children." Lydia commanded. "I'll confront it."

"No-"

But before he could protest she was gone.

-

Knocking and talking to wake up each resident would be too slow, so Scratch hurried downstairs and began to bang to pots together.

"Everybody get up!"

"Is it a fight? Are we fighting?" Not wearing much but valiantly brandishing her whip and throwing knives.

"No. We made a formal threat assessment and our official verdict is that this thing is damn scary, so we're not fighting it. Second," Scratch pointed at his brother, "you're in charge. Get these kids safely downstairs to Barbara and the witch."

Jasper sputtered. "But the witch is-"

"Lacrima talks big, but she never bites. Maybe she's not safe, but she's a known quantity. Especially compared to this."

"Ho there, what about you?" Ada interjected. "Are you staying here?"

"Your mother has already gone out to fight it, I have to stand by her. Maybe it can be reasoned with."

"If you're here we're not running away either!" Felix came stumbling out a storage closet carrying more random assorted weapons than he could fit in his arms.

"We're doing this to save-" the father stopped himself when he saw the determination in their faces. "Fine, you three can stay." He pointed at Ada, Felix, and Jasper, "but Second, you get the younger kids the hell out of here."

Rushing onto the central square, they could see Lydia having taken a high vantage point on one of the manor's wings, and the intruder having come to a stop just in front of them.

Their visage of the creature was framed by the two wings of the U-shaped building on either side. It loomed imposingly over the square, not speaking a word. From up close, a golden ring piercing its left horn was visible.

It was deathly quiet. There were no stars and no wind, no proof of a wider world outside their tiny pocket of space.

The sound of the hobgoblins readying their weapons broke the silence for a short moment. Ada stretched a leather whip, Felix wielded a halberd with two pronged tip, and Jasper had extended claws attached to his wrists, they kept his palms free for healing magic.

From underneath the pitch black cloak of the creature came a large skeletal hand. Stark white finger bones scraped sickeningly over one another as four digits folded in and one extended outwards towards the patriarch. It was pointing at him.

A distant voice emanated from the throat of the cow skull. "You..." Scratch flinched, but no powerful magic or killing curse appeared, "...must be the new dungeon master! What a pleasure to meet you, are these your minions?"

"I... what?"

"How conceited of me, I do rely on my reputation too much. I am Ritter, we corresponded via the mail did we not? Let us discuss matters in your throne room."

"Throne room?" Scratch echoed without being able to produce a coherent contribution.

The creature's finger bones curled and uncurled. "Unless you think of me not as a guest, but as an invader."

"Not at all!" A boy's voice rang from one of the second floor windows. It was Youthere. "My master is shy, let me be the first to formally great the Champion of Death! Lord of the Tower! The Ravenous Lich!"

Lydia had a visible reaction to hearing that title, the colour drained from her face and she dropped her weapon.

Although the bleached cow skull did not have any facial muscle with which to show emotion, it managed to be remarkably expressive opening and closing the jaws and intensifying the flames in the eye sockets. It took a deep bow.

Instead of a throne room, the lich was led to the dining table. Scratch and Lydia shared a chair at one end and bade the guest to sit at the other. This way they had a long piece of furniture between them.

The kids were gather behind them, and Youthere was standing next to Scratch. "The Ravenous Lich is the Champion of an evil god. He and you will have a mutual understanding." He whispered.

"The whole world fears the Ravenous Lich," she whispered back, "he has killed millions for sport and to fuel his undead legions."

"My reputation proceeds me." The monster said with a deep echo-y sigh. He had heard their whispers. "To the adventuring peoples, the likes of you and me are either fodder to be trampled or fearsome gods. Many have died in my dungeon, but I have not invited them there. I'm sure you understand."

"Then you're a dungeon master too," Scratch deduced.

"Of course! Not just of one. Me and a number of my colleagues refer to ourselves as dungeon lords." He turned his palms towards them in a gesture of insincere humility, "not to brag, but only six individuals worldwide have proved themselves worthy of that title."

"Many dungeons..." the goblin furrowed his brow in thought, "do you know anybody by the name of 'Yanis'?"

"Oh, you know him!" Ritter exclaimed happily. "That should simplify things. Yes, Yanis is a friend of mine. We have different origins of course- as you can see I am of the monster race, a minotaur, and he is from among the civilized peoples- but we are both what is known as dark sorcerers." He flicked the ring on his left horn. "We make our own magic!"

He got no strong reaction from that revelation, so he continued.

"Not too long ago one of Yanis' former students had made an expedition to this dungeon in order to claim it for himself. I must admit... I had a hand in this."

"Who is this person?" Scratch stopped the story to get to the relevant details.

"You don't remember him? He came to enchant the shard and claim it for himself. Well, must have not seemed too different from an adventurer on a raid."

"No no. I know who you're talking about now." Scratch responded, "bandaged face, used a fake name." He had lost his brother Dumb that day.

"Exactly. As I understand, you did not end up losing anything of value. But you were threatened. This student, Albin, he did not find you by random chance. It was a map, stolen from my library, that led him to you. So I bear responsibility for the attack."

Scratch was glad Second wasn't there to hear it. He had a lot of bitterness in his heart about seeing his brothers die by human hands. "So you've come to apologize."

"More than that." The lich put his hand where his heart should be. "I have come to make amends. I understand that you have used Yanis' name to scare off would-be usurpers, that will no longer be necessary."

"Did he make a formal complaint?"

"Oh no," the lich shook his head, "I wanted to say you can call upon my name instead. And with more credibility. I am here only to help, after all."

"That's a relief," Scratch responded diplomatically, "but you sure picked an ominous hour to suddenly appear."

The lich cocked his head. "Did I? I should be terribly sorry, I do often lose track of day and night. I do not rely on sight, you see. As you are sitting there I can see only the ever diminishing life force of your mortal bodies."

The patriarch shifted uncomfortably. Everything Ritter said was laden with a threatening atmosphere.

"The smoke isn't... harmful, is it?" Lydia asked.

"Not to you." Ritter stated. "Having lived- not lived... existed for many decades now, I have picked up certain habit for sniffing out spies and assassins. My black mist has invaded the nooks and crannies of your little surface town. The cabinets, the cabinets, the cracks, the little... mouse holes- anyway, as usual my paranoia was vindicated. I have retrieved..."

He reached a skeletal hand inside his deep black coat, and pulled out a little tube. It had copper ends and flat glass planes making up its sides, like a hexagonal prism.

"...a little intruder."

He placed the object on the table. There was something alive inside.

"What's that?" The children walked around the table trying to get a closer look.

"Wait don't-" Lydia wanted to stop them, but they were already practically next to the visitor.

"There's a little woman inside!" Ada exclaimed.

"A pixie. Send here by a fairy queen as advanced scout," Ritter explained. "You have made quite the enemy."

Inside was a slender humanoid figure, no more than six inches tall. She was faintly angelic in her white dress and fair skin and sporting transparent insect wings on her back. She had been unconscious, but was starting to come to. As she became aware of her surroundings she began to bash her tiny fists against the glass in panic.

The lich pointed at the tube and it began to fill up with black smoke again. The little woman began to choke and then fainted again.

"Woooow!" The hobgoblins were amazed by the sight as if it were a circus spectacle.

"Cute kids." The lich put his large skeletal hand on Jasper's head. "I could just eat them up."

Jasper recoiled in shock.

"Scratch, Lydia," the lich continued, "do you know why the fairy queen is making preparations to attack you?"

Scratch remembered the witch's admission of repeated invasions into the fairy forest. The same witch he was now harboring. "I have some id-"

"That was a rhetorical question. I shall tell you why." Ritter pointed up, "the smokestacks."

"... You mean the chimneys?"

"Yes I do mean the chimneys. Humans are very selective about where they build their industry, many cities have the ability to construct large scale smelters and refineries without the need for epic level magic. But they do not do so. And why not?"

Lydia suddenly understood. "Pollution-"

"Again, rhetorical. Because of the smoke. The marring of the air and water makes enemies out of the fey."

"Lydia, you know about this?" Scratch asked in a serious tone.

"I- no. I..."

"A knight would not be educated in this matter," Ritter explained, "the high nobility are the ones that occupy themselves with infrastructure, and the witches with magical affairs. But whomever put you up to this must have known what they were doing. Whatever they're paying you, its not enough. You're spending not only energy and resources, you're drawing the ire of a mighty force."

Scratch massaged his temples. "So this steel business isn't only against the laws of man, it's against the laws of nature. That's just great."

"Steel?" The lich wondered.

"If we stop now," Lydia asked, "can we avoid being attacked by fey?"

"In all of history," Ritter answered, "a fairy queen has never made peace with a polluter. Polluting cities have had to evacuate or eradicate the queen. But that's why I am here. If you would follow me outside."

The dungeon lord stood up, and his horns scraped the ceiling.

"Can we keep the bug lady?" Ada asked.

"Sure you can little miss." He touched the tip of her nose with his bone finger. "Come along," he urged the parents, "I shall present you with an army."

"I want another apple." Piers stated in an austere tone of voice.

Currently, getting another apple seemed like the most important matter in the whole world.

Lacrima pinched the bridge of her nose. "I am not in the business of feeding produce to subhumans, you have overstayed your welcome well enough. Now kindly leave?"

"Papa said we had to stay here for now," Piers idly mentioned while rummaging through a cabinet.

"I don't care what Scratch sa- Stay out of there!"

The houses on the underground shore were exceedingly simplistic. Everything was build out of the same random assortment of deciduous wood that made up the boardwalk below. Each had the same layout of a single story story room, with no interior walls and a decorative roof out of thin rods, that let in most of the light. (There was no rain to protect from.) It being goblin-made the handiwork was systematically skewed and amateurish.

But Lacrima had personalized hers. An intricate red and gold carpet colored the floor, a large bookcase decorated the back wall, and a desk filled with papers and objects obscured her sleeping mattress from those entering the doorway. The whole space was littered with opened and unopened crates and and belongings that hadn't been given a place yet.

The younger hobgoblins had made themselves at home, lounging on the carpet and rummaging through the paraphernalia. Much to the chagrin of the witch.

She took the door of the cabinet and slammed it shut, almost crushing Piers' fingers.

"Hey!" He brought his face close to hers, "what's the big idea?"

"Do not touch anything," she demanded, "I am attempting to communicate with my apprentice. I've had to flee to this place out of necessity, and I don't intend to-"

"What's that?" Piers interrupted her to point at a display shelf full of small glass sheets. Each had a red dot in the middle.

"That is not of your concern... A secret weapon I have dug up, created for precisely this situation."

"A secret weapon, wow!" Trevor perked up. "For defeating the smoke monster!?"

"Not for that! The situation where my dealings are exposed and I have had to flee the city. Over the years I've employed every adventurer of renown in Reddington, more often than not they shed their blood on the feybloom before delivering it. These are those samples."

"That's not a weapon," Constantine laughed, "a weapon is sharp. Or sometimes heavy. Or sometimes a rope."

"Watch your tone with me boy," she grabbed him painfully by the ear. "I am a wielder of magic, aren't I? So I have a magic purpose for this blood."

"Ow, owie.. ah ah ah!" Constantine couldn't listen properly, as he was too focused on the pain in his ear lobe.

"What is spawned off the body maintains an invisible connection," she explained through his painful interjections. "Through such a link I can learn of the location of a target, or bewitch their body and mind. So do not speak ignorance in my presence."

"Is bewitching a body when you turn someone into an animal?" Trevor asked. "If I give you my blood, can you turn me into a troll?"

"I do not need your blood to bewitch you," she sniffed, "all of you are godless creatures. You have no defense against my magic."

"Oh oooh!" Will raised his hands, "I want to be a magibat!"

"You can not turn into a creature more powerful than yourself!" Lacrima fumed. "Every child knows this! That is why-" She sat down, suddenly acting her age in showing frailty. "Why I do what I do..." She rested her head in her hands.

It seemed like she was about to cry, and the hobgoblins looked at each other awkwardly.

Second provided an escape, when he appeared in the doorway. "Bree has met with the trolls, they don't want to help us. They want her to come with them."

"Come with them where?" Trevor asked.

"Further down."

Area Boss: The Ravenous Lich

Type: Undead

Threat Level: A

Reward: The castle of Kietriev and associated lands

The undead wastes have been ruled by the Ravenous Lich for centuries. He has earned his nickname by voraciously sucking up the life force of all living things within.

The wastes can be found past the valley north of castle Kietriev, and span 120 kilometers in radius, with no recognizable landmarks, save for the lich's tower.

While within the wastes, living creatures will be exposed to an aura of death that imposes a constant drain on their health. Hourly healing magic is required in order to avoid permanent damage.

The reanimated skeletons of failed adventurers guard this desert, and will relentlessly attack the living. Discuss with the local guild house whether their numbers have been recently thinned.

In the exact center of the wastes stands the lich tower. The structure is fifteen stories tall and houses various high level defenders, including a vampire count.

The lich is a necromancer of unparalleled magical power, adventurers attempting this attack should be familiar with dark magic practitioners and the use of magic itself. There will be no opportunity to abandon the attack once the tower is reached.

Warning: due to the worldwide infamy of this boss, low level parties are known to invade the area and attempt a mission they are unqualified to complete. Attempting this is grounds for expulsion from the guild. Do not challenge the lich before attaining rank A, it is not worth it.