Long ago, a priest of Old Koss had come to the edge of the wide forest that would eventually be the building site for Bothernot village. Old Koss, being the god of farmers, granted the cleric the godspell “Lay of the Land.” He surveyed the area, tasted the soil, hitched up his overalls and grunted a lot, and determined the best place to put the fields.

The settlers followed his directions, and as the decades went by, he steered them mostly right. And every time one of the farmers decided “hey, I think I'll start expanding into the northern forest,” the cleric told them in no uncertain terms to leave it the heck alone.

Nature was good to Bothernot. Nature gave Bothernot its bounty, coaxed from rich soil, calm winds broken by the hills, and fresh water from a plethora of creeks and streams.

But nature was also hungry, and those who got greedy and tried to carve too far into the northern forest got to experience that firsthand. Or so the stories went, because when people disappear in the woods, who is really to say what happened to them?

There were a few things that the northern forest was good for, and it was one of those things that Chase wanted to journey towards now.

On the surface of it, Chase and Greta were tempting fate, and whatever hungry bears, tunnelsnakes, and stumpthumpers were out there with a free two-course meal.

But as Chase explained to Greta, the situation wasn't as dire as all that.

“We know that Father came this way. It's likely the others did, too. There's no way that Tollen Wheadle could have gotten the dwarf woman to his place without the whole village seeing, otherwise.”

“You know we're going to be in big trouble if they see us out here, right?” Greta was slouching, eyes flicking around the trees, braid jiggling as she twitched at every noise.

Bears and worse out here, and she's worried about Dad's wrath. I love my sister. I do. Chase kept the smirk off her face, though. “That's precisely why it's safe. A whole bunch of our sturdiest folks, all with swords and weapons and who knows what else out here combing around... they'll have run off all the dangerous creatures. All we have to do is take it slow and keep an eye out for folks we know.”

“That kind of rhymes.”

Chase blinked, then considered her last few words. “Oh! I didn't even notice. That was a happy accident, I guess.”

“What a mess.”

“Don't you start!”

“Or what, you'll fart?”

Despite herself, despite the tension of the situation, Chase giggled. “This isn't the time, or the place!” She whispered, far louder than she intended.

“So I can't rhyme? What a disgrace!”

And then a man's voice rang out through the forest. “Please pardon me for getting up in your face!”

The two sisters stopped in shock, and stared as the strangest human they'd ever seen stepped out from behind a nearby tree.

How? How did he sneak up on us? Chase thought, as she stood stiff, staring at the man. For he was wearing the most gaudy clothes she'd ever seen, and given that she'd just come from an afternoon in the tavern talking with Hoon, that was saying something.

The stranger wore a bright red coat with gold buttons and black trim, that trailed off into two tails, which stretched down to the backs of his knees. His trousers were white, gleaming and pristine, and on his black, curly head of hair rose a stovepipe hat that added another foot to his height. Two white-gloved hands rested on his hips, and his mustache was teased into two circles. Handlebar mustache, Chase vaguely recalled. That's the name of that style. Below a grinning mouth sat a pointy goatee, that made her instantly think of Naughty Natzle, one of the villains from the Jinkies books.

“Ah...” Greta said, taking a step backward., mouth working.

About that point, Chase got ahold of herself. I just talked with a god. Why should I be afraid of this guy? “Hello there, sir,” Chase said, stepping in front of her sister, and giving her the 'let me handle this,' gesture. “Are you looking for our village? It's very close. About shouting distance, one might say.”

His eyes twinkled under the brim of his hat. “Oh yes! The nice young man I ran into yesterday told me all about Bothernot. Then the welcoming committee came, and we had quite a good discussion. A pity, truly. I was hoping to bring my show here, but apparently they felt otherwise. Too dangerous, you see.”

“You're the circus man that Jander Hoodwinkle met!” Greta burst out, and Chase fought to keep her face under control. That little declaration had cost Chase some valuable conversational ground.

The stranger laughed, and bowed low, doffing his hat. “I am indeed that circus man! Ringmaster Thomasi Jacobi Venturi, at your service.”

“Oh! Well, we're very pleased to meet you. I'm Chase Berrymore, and this is Greta, my sister.” Chase curtseyed back, never taking her eyes off him. “Perhaps you can tell me...” she gnawed her lip, weighed the odds. If he IS the griefer that Hoon warned me about, we're not far from town.. Best to find out now. “Have you spotted any undead around here?” She continued. “I've gotten a tip from a very reliable source that we might have some trouble on that front, soon.”

“What?” Greta gasped.

Chase scowled, and kicked her sister's shin. But she kept her eyes squarely on the ringmaster, who straightened up with a puzzled look.

“Undead?” He said, tugging on his goatee. “No, no I haven't. Although...”

“Although?”

“I hesitate to say it, but I DID see a most disreputable-looking man. He was skulking around to the west of here, last night. He was playing with some sinister-looking glowing rocks.”

Chase's pack shifted suddenly, the contents picking an odd moment to settle. She grabbed the straps, and readjusted it. “Undead do that sort of thing?” She asked, scrutinizing Thomasi carefully.

Thomasi coughed, holding his hand in front of his mouth. Then he smiled, spreading his hands. “I have heard legends of necromancers, who use glowing stones to do horrible things. Necromancers are those mages who specialize in the undead. So perhaps the two are related, no?”

“The graveyard! Chase, it's northwest of here!” Greta tugged on Chase's blouse.

“I know that,” Chase hissed. Then she looked up at Thomasi. “Did the people who spoke to you last night head that way?”

“To tell the truth, I'm not entirely sure. They seemed to regard me with suspicion entirely unearned, and instructed me to wait here until they could, er, sort me out. They were quite heavily armed, so I decided to follow their instructions.” Thomasi put his hands behind his back, and fidgeted. “That and I didn't want to entirely give up on the chance of hosting a show, here. We've come quite a long way, and I'd very much like to earn some money for my people on this trip.”

That went a long way toward easing Chase's worries about the man. He was a stranger and a human, which were two big strikes against him, but if money was his motivation then that made him a little more understandable. “I see. Well, thank you for letting us know about this. We're going to go need to have a look, and make sure everything's all right.”

Thomasi blinked, and his mustache twitched as he studied the two of them. “Are you quite certain that's wise? I have no doubt that the two of you can take care of yourselves, but if there's a necromancer and a graveyard in the equation, then that seems potentially worrisome. Are you certain that you are prepared?”

Chase shook her head. “No. But we're going anyway.” There's no one else, she knew. Everyone else who was brave enough to even enter this part of the woods or skilled enough to actually do something while they were in there was either busy or already out here, somewhere. There was literally no one else... at least not anyone that Chase could convince before nightfall.

And Chase had read enough stories to know how this would go. If there were undead in this situation, then nightfall would be when they would strike. She sighed, and reassured a nervous-looking Thomasi. “We're not going up there to do any smiting or anything like that. We're just going to check and see if there is a necromancer or any undead. Then we'll go find the people who questioned you yesterday and let them know about it so they can take care of it.”

“Ah, well, that shouldn't be too difficult. Is one of you a Scout?” Thomasi smiled in relief. “Or perhaps a Burglar... ah, I'm sorry, that would be rude, wouldn't it.”

“I'm a Cook,” Chase said, staring at Thomasi in disbelief. “Greta's a Farmer.”

Thomasi stared back. “And?”

“And what?”

“What are your other jobs?”

“Firstly, sir, that's an incredibly personal question,” Chase said, putting her hands on her hips. She was rapidly losing some of her goodwill toward this brightly-dressed stranger. “Secondly, we are both halvens, as your eyes can tell you.”

“That's it? Just a racial and a crafting job apiece?” Thomasi closed his eyes, and massaged the spot between his eyes with two fingers. “Cheese-us.”

“What?” Chase wasn't sure she'd heard that word right.

“Nothing.” The lanky human shook his head. “Why? Why do you not have more jobs?”

Chase studied him. “How do you not know the law?”

“There's a law about jobs?” Thomasi's eyebrows lifted up.

“Yeah,” Greta said, catching the unease in Chase's tone. “There is.”

Thomasi spread his hands. “We've been out of touch for a long time. Look, we're getting off-topic. How do you expect to safely observe this very-dangerous situation, without even a single job to help you?”

“I don't expect it to be safe,” Chase said, glancing up at the sky and marking the sun. It would take a hike to get to the graveyard, and she didn't want to waste any more daylight. “But we're going to do it anyway.”

And with that, she took Greta's arm and marched ahead.

For a half-second she expected Thomasi to step in front of her, and she didn't know what she would do if that happened.

But instead he held his ground, mustaches drooping as he frowned.. Then he let out a breath of air, and followed.

Chase shot him a glance. “What are you doing?”

“I fear that you are doing something very foolish. And if you do this thing and do not return, then I share some complicity in allowing it to happen. So I feel that I must offer some slight assistance with the matter.”

“You spent the night waiting here because our people told you to,” Chase reminded him. “You're giving that up now?”

“They'd be more annoyed at me if I let you die.” Thomasi shrugged.

Chase nodded. She had to admit it was true. “Are you sneakier than we are? Do you have any jobs to help with this sort of thing?”

“In a word, no.” Thomasi strode up to join them, gesturing with one gloved hand, in a sort of half-shrug. “All of my jobs are bent towards more blatant business, I fear. Do not worry that I shall give you away. Merely alert me when we get close to this graveyard, and I shall remain behind. Cavalry of a sort, I suppose. I'll swoop in to try to save you if possible.”

“It's more than we had a few minutes ago,” Chase said, weighing the options available to her. She had no way to stop Thomasi from following them, no way to drive him off. She had no idea what jobs he might or might not have, or how dangerous he was if pushed. No, the best solution seemed to be to accept his offer with good grace and hope for the best. And if it turned out he was malicious... well, they might be able to kneecap him and run. Her hand crept into the pocket of her skirt, and touched a hurler stone. It would be a last resort at best, but it was better than nothing.

Then an old memory pushed at her mind.

I might have a way to figure out what jobs he's got after all.

It would require doing something she didn't normally do, and Chase screwed her courage to the sticking place, as she invoked the words.

“Form party,” Chase said. And the inscrutable, ever-present words rolled past her field of vision;

You have created a party!

You are now the party leader, and can access the party screen!

“Invite Greta,” Chase intoned, glancing over to her sister, who blinked, and nodded.

Greta has joined the party!

Then Chase looked to Thomasi. “Do you mind? It's the easiest way to make sure nobody gets in trouble.”

Thomasi shook his head. “I'm sorry. I'm already in a party, with my friends back in the circus. If I drop out to join yours, then they'd think something bad happened to me. I'd rather not alarm them, if it's all the same.”

Chase kept from frowning, but only just. She'd forgotten about that. You could only be in one party at a time. While in it, you could say words that would create something called a party screen, that let you see your fellow party members' conditions, levels, and relative state of exhaustion and damage. It was a powerful thing, but limited, and Chase didn't know enough about it to find a way around this problem.

Although, it seemed like an awfully convenient thing, that Thomasi had an excuse that prevented her from looking at his levels.

But his motivations made sense, and she had nothing beyond a vague suspicion that he was hiding something. She just didn't have enough information to get a read on him, and that bugged her.

As the walk went on, she let it go. She didn't remember exactly how far it was to the graveyard, or how thick the trees had been, so she decided to move with caution and keep her eye on the woods around her.

It was a sight. Unlike the shorter trees around the village, that were the result of replanting done a few decades back, the old growth of the northwest towered above like copper-crowned titans, leaves pattering down as the wind caught them, autumn full in her glory. Fortunately the size of the trees aided their approach, blocking the light that would have dried the morning dew, and keeping the fallen brown leafy carpet just soggy enough that they were able to walk without much noise.

“Someone came through here,” Thomasi said, pointing at a muddy spot with several patches of churned earth. “Several someones, and they weren't trying to hide it.”

“How long ago?” Chase asked.

“I don't know, to be honest. What I just told you was about the limit of my tracking ability. I'm no Scout.”

Greta squatted down next to them. “I'm not either, but they look like the people who walked through here had bare feet with toes. They look about our size. Dad and the others?”

“Your father's out here?” The ringmaster seemed surprised.

“Yes,” Chase nodded to Thomasi. “If he's at the graveyard, this works out fine for all of us.”

“Let's hope that's the case,” Thomasi agreed, smiling with flawless teeth.

The first warning that the halven sisters had that something was off came when they came to the ring of mauled animals, blood pooled in dark puddles on the damp leaves, torn rabbit fur and gouged deer bones scattered from carcasses left to lie and draw flies.

Chase fought to keep her gorge down, hand to her mouth, gazing about the darkened trees. In the distance, a path rose up the gentle slope of a hill, and a rusty iron fence showed the start of the graveyard. Something at the edge of her vision moved, and she hunkered down low, trying to make herself as small to the ground as possible... but then it was gone, and she couldn't say what it was.

“There's no birdsong,” Greta whispered. “I can't hear any animals.”

“Given what happened here, I'm not too surprised,” Thomasi murmured from a surprisingly low level. Chase glanced around and saw him lying down, hugging the dirt as if his life depended on it.

He may not be a Scout but he knows what he's doing, more or less.

“This bodes,” Thomasi scowled across the gore-soaked clear spot in the middle of the woods. “Perhaps we should return to safety?”

Chase shook her head. “I wish we could. But Dad's tracks, or whoever's tracks they are, came this way. We have to make sure they're all right.”

“Let me go up and see,” Thomasi offered.

“Chase?” Greta whispered.

Chase waved a hand at her sister, in a 'not now' motion. “You said it yourself, you're no Scout. We're small, hard to notice. I'll just go up and look, then come back.”

“I don't think those are good risks to take!” Thomasi pointed out, sweat rolling down his cheeks despite the crisp fall air. “If anything happens to you, I'll be held accountable.”

“Chase...” Greta whispered again, louder.

Chase shushed her sister with a quick motion, then glared at Thomasi as she retorted, just a bit louder than she'd intended. “And if the people you are worried about are in danger up there, then they'll need help! And I need to see what's going on before I can get the rest of the town moving, they'll never come otherwise.”

“Chase!” Greta screamed, and Chase jumped straight up, whirled on her sister...

...who was standing there, pale as a sheet, pointing back the way they'd come.

Pointing at the skeleton that now stood there, old, dirty bones a pale yellow, holding the dripping corpse of a squirrel in one hand.

“Oh,” Chase said, feeling her eyes go wide. She was breathing fast, she realized, as the cold air whistled through her nose, escaping her open mouth in pants. This thing, this thing was just standing there, watching them. It had no eyes, but it was watching them.

And in the silence, the steady plip, plip, plip of the squirrel's blood landing on the skeleton's bare-boned foot caught her ears. The drops almost seemed to match her heart, beating far faster than it had any right to.

“Undead,” Greta whispered, and the skeleton's skull swiveled on its spine to consider her. “There are undead here! Chase, you knew about this somehow, how did you know?”

Chase didn't answer.

She was too busy staring at the words that had just appeared right in the center of her vision.

Congratulations! By correctly interpreting divine hints and signs, you have unlocked the Oracle job!

Would you like to become an Oracle at this time? Y/N?

“No,” Chase breathed, and the words went away. “No!” She said, as the skeleton took a step closer. No time to think, no time to dwell on it as her hand dipped into her skirt pocket, and she threw a stone with all her might.

Her father had made both of his daughters spend long hours practicing with the heavy, carved stones.

Long hours that paid off now, as her rock crashed through the skeleton's rib cage, taking a few ribs with it. Red numbers rose into the air, a red '21' showing the hit points of damage that Chase's attack had done to it.

But the skeleton didn't fall. It dropped the squirrel and lunged, and Greta's own rock sailed wide as she missed her throw. Chase screamed as the monster closed...

...then stopped cold as Thomasi stepped in its path, arms out.

“Shoo! Shoo, you!” Thomasi yelled.

And for some reason, the skeleton didn't attack him. Those long, blood-stained bony hands didn't rip the man to bits.

“Go!” Thomasi yelled, calling over his shoulder, then stepping to the left as the skeleton tried to get around him. “I can't hold it off forever!”

Chase danced around to the side, and Thomasi moved with grace, keeping himself in the way. “Let's go!” Greta shouted. “Back to the village. We need to get help!”

It was a good idea, so Chase took it. She fled back towards the southeast...

...and hauled up short, as two more skeletons stepped out of the trees. They took one look at her, and jogged forward, legs unhindered by their lack of muscles.

Chase hurled another stone, then whirled and fled, not sticking around to see the results. But the words told her she'd connected, she noted with one remaining sane corner of her panicked mind.

DEX +1

Your Throwing skill is now level 19!

Normally she'd be ecstatic about gaining another attribute point, but right now prudent fear was the order of the day. Greta puffed and panted at her side, as the sisters fled up the hill.

“No, not that way!” Thomasi shouted. “Oh damn it all... Vaffanculo! Vaffanculo!”

Normally Chase would have been shocked by his foul language. But she couldn't spare a look back, focusing on the ground ahead. If she tripped, she was dead, that was it.

And just as she thought that, her foot caught a root.

And for a second, for a hot, horrible second, she staggered, leaning forward, balance shifting as the hillside rose to meet her falling face...

...and then her flailing hand met the ground and with strength she didn't know she had Chase pushed herself upright enough to get both feet under her and going properly.

Then she was at the top of the hill, pebbles and dirt flying as she scrambled, and the rusty iron gate of the graveyard loomed ahead, bars fallen out like broken teeth. Chase hopped over the first one, trampled the next, ignoring the rough sensation against her bare foot, and barely slowed as she wiggled through the gap in the gate. Her pack caught as she went and tore, and Chase cursed as she heard something hit the ground behind her.

“The fox!” Greta yelled.

Chase ignored it, darting behind the mossy gravestones, and skidding to a halt as she almost fell in a dug-up hole where there should be a grave. “Leave it!” she called to Greta. “They want us, not a fox toy!”

“No! Chase! The fox! Look!” Greta panted, as she slid to a stop next to Chase, pointing frantically back to the gate.

The fox toy had fallen from Chase's backpack, all right.

But it wasn't lying there in the dirt, like Chase had expected.

The fox stood, its torn throat whole, brushing dirt from its flanks with cloth paws.

Am I mad? Chase wondered. Then a darker thought occurred to her. Is it enchanted? Did whatever raised the undead animate this toy somehow? Taking a deep breath, the halven pulled out another hurler stone, and sighted carefully.

Then the first skeleton crested the hilltop, skull rising up first, outstretched arms and bony ribs next...

And the fox spoke.

“Manipulate air!” it commanded, in a voice that sighed and sung, with an echo to it like the strings of an instrument. And as it spoke it waved a paw, and a cloud of fog roiled and rolled in front of the tiny toy.

But the gust of wind went far wide, and the fox hopped back, backpedaling as the undead creature re-oriented and turned its charge, aiming for him instead of Chase. Behind it, another skull rose from the slope of the hillside as the second skeleton neared...

“Help him!” Chase decided, making a snap decision. And before she could second-guess herself, she let loose with several stones, jerking them free of her pockets and chucking them as fast as she could draw them. Beside her, Greta did the same.

The thing staggered as the sisters pelted it, turning back their way as red numbers sheeted up and disappeared. But before it could reach the gate, it collapsed, falling into pieces. Greta whooped in very un-halven-like joy.

The fox, for his part, wasn't idle. He waved his hands in a quick arc and this time his blast caught the second skeleton head on, lifting it up and off the ground, and launching it back out of view down the hillside. Bones clattered and kept on clattering, until a crunch filled the air.

Chase paused with one of her last stones in her hand. She felt her racing heart slow, just a bit, then kick back up as the little toy fox turned. It still had the patches from her mother's sewing kit all along its front, and new colors over its throat. It looked at her with sad little glass eyes, and she stared back, knowing that she should speak, but unsure what to say.

The fox, however, beat her to it.

“I'm sorry,” it said, in that reedy, resonant little voice. “This is all my fault.”

CHASE'S CHARACTER SHEET

Spoiler: Spoiler

Name: Chase Berrymore

Age: 15 Years

Jobs:

Halven level 8, Cook level 4

Attributes / Pools / Defenses

Strength: 40 Constitution: 28 / Hit Points: 68 / Armor: 0

Intelligence: 45 Wisdom: 54 / Sanity: 99 / Mental Fortitude: 25

Dexterity: 60 Agility: 51 / Stamina: 111 / Endurance: 0

Charisma: 69 Willpower: 36 / Moxie: 105 / Cool: 25

Perception: 43 Luck: 71 / Fortune: 114 / Fate: 16

Generic Skills

Brawling – Level 7

Climb – Level 15

Dagger – Level 2

Dodge – Level 9

Fishing – Level 14

Ride – Level 10

Stealth – Level 11

Swim – Level 6

Throwing – Level 19

Halven Skills

Fate's Friend – Level N/A

Small in a Good Way – Level N/A

Cook Skills

Cooking - Level 14

Freshen - Level 10

Unlocked Jobs

Archer, Farmer, Grifter, Herbalist, Oracle, Teacher