For the first time in her life, Chase had many, many questions, and she didn't want the answers to any of them.

It wasn't that the question “what the hell are you?” had no merit.

And certainly the question “what do you mean?” was worthy of asking, at some point.

Also, it would be definitely be a good idea to straighten out a few more things, such as “what's going on here, exactly?”

But right here and now, standing on this lonely hilltop, in a remote cemetary that was far from help and with undead coming to tear Chase and Greta apart with bony claws, these questions seemed to lack urgency.

Standing there, feeling adrenaline rush through her small frame, shaking with fear and the urge to run and hide, Chase Berrymore only had one question for the surprisingly animate fox toy.

“Will you help us?”

“Yes.” Said the toy, dropping to all fours and trotting easily through the gate, until he reached their side. “I'm Renny.”

“I'm Chase.”

“I know.” Renny peered around, eyes gleaming in the scattered sunlight. There were fewer trees up here, thankfully. “Can you invite me to your party?”

“Invite Renny,” Chase said. Beside her, Greta just stared down at the fox, eyes wide.

“He's so cute!” Greta finally decided.

Renny has joined your party!

“Party Screen,” Chase said, ducking back behind a tombstone so she could read without exposing her head to random skeletons.

Renny's summary was... complicated.

Greta looked as she always did.

Greta Berrymore HP 84

Halven 9 / SAN 72

Farmer 5 / STA 81/100

MOX 80

FOR 89

Renny, though, Renny was a whole different story. Renny was more of a series.

“Renny?”

Fox 4 / HP 85

Greater Toy Golem 3 / SAN 161/171

Air Elementalist 7 / STA 120

Sensate 10 / MOX 140

Tailor 9 / FOR 160

“Okay,” Chase said, feeling in control of herself again. She banished the party screen with a thought, and looked around. And everywhere she looked, she saw dug-up graves. Not every stone had a hole next to it, but there were a good twenty or thirty or so. That wasn't good, not by any definition of the word.

“Vaffanculo!” Thomasi shouted, from down the hill.

“Good, he's still alive,” Chase muttered. “I don't know what he's doing to keep them from killing him, but I'm going to assume he can keep doing that. So all we have to worry about is keeping ourselves alive and getting out of here.”

“You're taking this very well,” Renny said. “I thought you would be panicking right now.”

Chase shared a look with Greta. Halvens got this sort of talk sometimes, from humans that traveled through town. Chase didn't feel like explaining how Halvens were known for their mental fortitude, and keeping their cool in scary situations, there wasn't enough time for that. So instead she settled for saying “Thank you. Are you doing okay?”

“Yes. No.” He looked down at the ground. “All my friends are dead and it's my fault.”

He just looked so cute and so sad, and for a second, despite everything, Chase's heart went out to him. She found herself scratching his stuffed head, behind the cloth ears. He leaned into it and didn't say anything.

Greta broke the moment. “There's something glowing in the... bones. Of the skeleton.”

Chase looked up, crawled on hands and knees to keep herself low, ignoring the mud and the grime of the churned up earth. She got to the shattered pile of bones, and sure enough, something glimmered inside. It was black, so black it almost seemed to suck up the light. Chase hesitated, then snatched it free, hoping that it wouldn't do something horrible to her.

It didn't.

The glimmering thing was a ball of crystal, about the size of a small apple. It was black, so dark that it almost seemed to devour the sunlight, save for a few spots where a purplish glow seemed to glisten and wink almost of its own volition.

“That's a soulstone,” Renny said, next to her. “It holds the spirits of dead things.”

“Well there are four more in around its hips,” Chase poked at them. They didn't seem to have the same feel...

Then she thought of the dead squirrel that the first skeleton was clutching. “They're killing things and catching their souls in the soulstones? Why?”

“Because raising undead takes souls,” a strange man spoke from behind her, and Chase whirled as Greta gasped.

His hair was shorn to stubble, and his features were chiseled and stern. Though human, he stood short and stout, but not the slightest bit of it was fat. The man wore half a metal mask over his face. His exposed eye glared without mercy, blue and bloodshot. the other was hidden behind glass, and his mask leered in wicked glee with pointed teeth where the side of his frowning mouth met it. The stranger wore faded black clothing with a few torn white patches, showing the remnant of skull emblems, heraldry that decorated every cloth thing he wore...

...all save for a blue tabard, with the golden symbol of a boot on the front of it. That tabard, strangely enough, was untouched, and looked practically new. Either this man was a tailor who didn't care about his other clothes, or something strange was going on, here.

Wordlessly, Greta ran to join Chase, but the stranger was quicker still, grabbing her foot and tripping her. “Ah, now. Leaving so soon?”

Chase drew a stone from her dress, and lifted her arm back. “Let her go!”

The man rolled his eye and snapped his fingers. Behind him, bones rattled as skeleton after skeleton clambered up from the farther graves to join him. “Getting the picture yet?”

“Vaffanculo!” Thomasi shouted again.

“What?” The stranger snarled back. “I'm working here, Tom.” Greta squirmed, and he kicked her, as casually as Chase's father would stomp on a rat. Chase gasped, as a bright red number '31' rolled up from her sister. Greta stopped struggling, her face mirroring her sister's fear.

Then the stranger's statement hit her. “You two know each other?”

“Oh, we go way back.” He looked down at Greta, and reached to his belt, pulling a knife free.

“No, stop!” Chase yelled, stepping forward.

“Why should I? A soul's a soul.” The man smiled, ducked under Chase's hurled stone—

—And Renny caught him with a blast of air right in the face.

A red '11' rippled up from the man's head, as he took a surprised step back, and Greta took her chance, scrambling across the dirt, lurching to her feet, and running to join her sister.

“Keep running!” Chase said, turning to go...

...and almost colliding with Thomasi's back, as he hurried up the hill, and threw himself between the skeleton that had broken off attacking him and lunged after Chase instead.

There was a brief moment of confusion, Thomasi tripped over her, the skeleton danced around, its hands in the air like a child playing the 'not touching you' game, and Chase fell to the ground, rolling, wincing as a red '5' flew out of her head. Greta shrieked and grabbed for her...

...and behind her came the strangest sound.

She shot a look back, and saw that the masked stranger was laughing. He was bent over, slapping his leg, laughing his rump off at the undignified little dance that she'd just done. “Oh, enough. Enough, back off and let them be,” the man said, and the skeleton stepped back, lowering its arms. “But kill them if they try to run,” The stranger finished, spreading his arms wide, and stepping forward.

Thomasi strode up to meet him, dusting himself off. “Clean and Press,” the ringmaster muttered, and dirt sloughed away from his jacket leaving it spotless once more. “Vaffanculo you bone-diddler,” Thomasi snarled. “I would have thought you would have kept on running.”

“I did. Then I found a graveyard.”

He wasn't swearing, earlier. This man's name is Vaffanculo. Chase realized. But who the heck calls himself something so vulgar as that?

“Well, you can keep killing squirrels. These two aren't worth it. Killing them would bring the town down on your head.”

“A soul's a soul, Thomasi. And a town's just right for my purposes, once I've got enough starter minions to ensure a good harvest.” Vaffanculo cracked his fingers, as his gaze played over the sisters... and the little fox, standing next to them, arms up and ready to fight. “Some kind of pet?” Vaffanculo snorted. “Probably got a stupid pun for a name. I hate all these damn puns.”

“Believe me I'm just as lost as you are on that one,” Thomasi spared Renny a glance, then looked back up.

But not in time to interrupt Greta, who stepped forward, emboldened and angry. “Where are our parents? What did you do with them?”

Vaffanculo squinted at her, then shrugged, gesturing widely around at the skeletons. “If they were buried here I shoved squirrel and bunny souls in them and desecrated their corpses into unholy service. Got any other stupid questions?”

“They're not here,” Thomasi told her, voice low and urgent. “They came this way and left. Vaffanculo showed up here later.”

Relief bloomed in Chase's heart, and her breath left her in a whistle. But then another realization rushed in to fill the void. “Wait,” she said, pointing at Thomasi. “Why didn't you tell us this in the first place?”

Thomasi scowled, not daring to look away from Vaffanculo. “It's complicated.”

“Oooh, this is rich. You know he's a Grifter, right, girl?” Vaffanculo chortled. “Give him time and he'll spin you some pretty, pretty lies.”

“It's the truth. All he's got here are skeletons,” Thomasi continued. “If your parents had fallen prey to him then he'd have ghouls or worse. But there's nothing here but bones to work with. Which is why he needs the soulstones, because the spirits are long gone. If he'd killed your parents he'd have their souls to work with, but he doesn't.”

“And how do you know all this about necromancy?” Chase said, taking a step back from him. “I can't trust you. I can't trust either of you.”

The skeleton blocking her retreat shifted, and a few more strolled out from the dozen or so around Vaffanculo, making a perimeter. Chase eyed it nonetheless, measuring her odds. It would be a long shot, but maybe... no. No, she might be able to make it, but Greta wasn't quite as nimble. And she was hurt, her face bruised where Vaffanculo had struck her.

“I didn't tell you the truth, because I knew I couldn't discourage you or get you to go back to the safety of your village,” Thomasi said, removing his hat and rubbing his scalp. “I figured I could lead you here, let you take a look and see undead, and that would scare you back home. Just bad luck one got behind us.”

“Then why didn't it attack you? Why did it act like it didn't want to hurt you?” Things weren't adding up, here.

Thomasi and Vaffanculo shared a look. The necromancer grinned, and Thomasi sighed. “It's complicated,” the tall human said. “I'm sorry.”

“So am I, Tom,” Vaffanculo shook his head. “Here you are, trying to report my activities to the authorities. Really now, after all we've been through, this is how you treat me?”

“You were never my friend. We merely suffered together,” Tom scowled. “But I intended no harm. I figured you'd be long gone, as I said before.”

“Well here I am, and here they are.” Vaffanculo said, turning his gaze to the halfling sisters again. “They took out two of my skeletons, so I figure they owe me two souls.”

Chase raised the soulstone she was holding, so he could see it, and lifted her hurler stone above it. “I'll smash this. Then it'll be three souls lost.”

“It's a squirrel or something in there. You think I care about that?” Vaffanculo snorted. “Plenty more if I go hunting further out. Unless...” The necromancer shifted his gaze to Thomasi. “...you might be willing to reconsider my previous request?”

“And leave myself open to you? Take that sort of risk?” Thomasi shook his head. “You're asking too much.”

“Tom, Tom. I know better than to kill the goose who lays the golden eggs.” Vaffanculo tried a smile. It really didn't work, not with that leering mask covering half his face. “You're a Ringmaster without his circus, true, but your tricks are still too valuable to me. I wouldn't kill you, unless it was a last resort.”

A Ringmaster without a circus? Chase's mind snapped back to a few hours ago. To that Fortuna card layout, that Hoon had done, back in the Dew Drop Inn.

“The Guildmaster reversed,” she said, staring at Thomasi. “A leader without a throne. You're my ally.”

Thomasi glanced her way, then back to Vaffanculo. “Pardon? Look, now's not the time to discuss—”

“And that makes you my enemy. You're the Griefer,” Chase continued, shifting to stare at the Necromancer.

The reaction was instantaneous, and unexpected. Both Thomasi and Vaffanculo stopped their banter, and whirled around to face her, jaws slack.

“Where did... where did you hear that?” Vaffanculo whispered, ruddy face pale. “Are you... no, you couldn't be.”

Thomasi cleared his throat. “So how's the lag treating you?” He asked, staring Chase dead in the eye. His gaze held intensity, pain... and a longing that had nothing to do with lust.

“It's complicated.” Chase smiled, without the faintest trace of happiness. Then she pulled out her last two hurler stones, and nodded to Greta. “Thomasi, if you help us, can we beat Vaffanculo?”

Instantly, the Necromancer sagged, relaxing into a slouch, and letting out a deep breath. Though she couldn't tell if it was one of relief or disappointment. “You're not. Of course you're not. Just trying to play games with us. Stupid mahb.”

Thomasi was shaking his head as well. “You don't know anything about what's going on here, do you? Not really.”

“I know enough,” Chase said. “Can we do it?”

“Not without one or both of you dying.”

“And giving me what I want from him in the long run anyway,” Vaffanculo finished, straightening up and folding his arms. “So let's compromise. You do that favor I asked of you, and I let the short stuffs walk out of here alive.”

“Without pursuit, or further aggression,” Thomasi said, eyes still on Chase.

“Unless they go back to town. I have plans for that town, and I won't be held accountable if they decide to get in my way.”

“No,” Chase spoke, but Thomasi spoke over her.

“Yes,” he said, firmly. “This is between me and him. Do not waste what I'm giving up for you. And listen, what you're looking for isn't in town anyway. And it isn't here, so where does that leave, then?” His eyes flicked right, but before Chase could follow his gaze, he snapped his fingers. “Listen to me, don't look away. Got it?”

And Chase did.

There was only one thing she could think of in that direction. She didn't need to look to know it was there.

“If you're done trying to drop codes and hints, we need to seal this deal. Hit me, Tom. One free punch. You know you wanna.” Vaffanculo moved up, arms wide like he was going to embrace an old friend.

“No need,” Thomasi said, turning to the side. “Options,” he said, and Chase's ears flared in amazement.

He'd used a skill, but none she'd ever heard of before. What even was that? What could it possibly do?

She watched in confusion as the Ringmaster dragged his hand through the air, swiping at something she couldn't see.

“There we go, was that so difficult?” Vaffanculo shrugged. “Now. Do your thing.”

“Go,” Thomasi snapped. “I said go!” He yelled, roaring at Chase. “Don't test him!”

Chase tucked her rocks away, grabbed Renny up, and fled, with Greta hot on her heels.

And behind them, she heard Thomasi's voice rise with that tone that denoted a skill being used.

“Send in the Clowns,” the Ringmaster spoke.

Horns honked joyously.

“Kill them!” Vaffanculo commanded, and Chase looked over her shoulder, whip-fast, then snapped her head back around and kept on running.

And as the halven sisters fled into the woods, behind them, the last clown gurgled blood and honked his horn mournfully as the skeletons clawed him down and threw him on a pile of greasepaint-caked corpses, each one dressed in floppy, loose clothes. All of which were now stained with red, red blood.

“Again, if you please,” Vaffanculo nodded at Thomasi.

“Send in the Clowns,” the Ringmaster said, shaking his head in disgust.

And as four clowns leaped up from behind gravestones and out of pits, the Necromancer smiled again.

“Kill them,” he told his skeletons, and once more the grisly scene played out.

Five frantic minutes later, Chase collapsed, exhausted, behind a crumbling log.

Greta hopped over it and joined her, face red as she panted. Finally the taller girl caught her breath. “Chase, what do we do? What do we even do?”

“I don't know. Let me think,” Chase said, letting Renny go. The fox hopped up and sat on the log, waiting, ears swiveling.

Chase looked over at him, waited until his glass eyes were staring back. “I should have realized it in the tavern. Hoon froze time, but only for people. The fire still crackled, and objects could be moved around. But you were frozen. You've been a... a person all this time. That's how you got into Mom's sewing kit.”

“Yes,” Renny nodded. “I'm sorry for fooling you. I was hurt and scared and didn't know how you'd react. And I couldn't talk because my voice was torn out.”

“Which is why Hoon gave me a sewing kit with a... a... sounding box. Yes. That's in your throat now, isn't it?”

“It was very convenient that you had that. I was surprised when you put it in the backpack, and I sewed it in and attached it while you were walking. It wasn't easy. I'm glad there was a mirror in the kit or it would have been impossible. As it was I got a Tailor level out of doing it, finally.”

“Yes,” Chase said, absently. “He thought of everything. Now I'm sure he cheated me with that mug game.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” She pulled up the party screen again, and stared at it. “You're a toy golem.”

“Yes.”

“And a fox, and an Air Elementalist, and a Tailor, but I know what those are. I don't know what a Sensate is, though.”

“Chase?” Greta asked.

“Let him speak. I'm taking stock of our resources,” Chase said. “Figuring out options. Strengths. Stuff like that. It's all very, it's all...”

The adrenaline left her then, and she sniffled. “It's all very hard,” she said, feeling her voice crack. “Skeletons, Greta! We almost got killed by skeletons! He would have killed... us...”

Then her sister's arms were around her, and Chase cried for a bit into Greta's shoulder. But only for a bit.

A pair of fuzzy arms circled her neck and gave her a brief squeeze, when she was done crying. “I'm sorry,” Renny said again.

“It's okay,” Chase sniffled until her voice was clear. “Tell me about your Sensate job.”

“It's a job that works with the five senses. It can make illusions, and affect other people's senses. I can dull and heighten senses. I can make people deaf or put them to sleep. I can make simple illusions that don't do much. That's about as good as I've gotten with it so far.”

“Okay. I don't know we can use that yet, but okay.” Chase rummaged in her pockets, and hauled out a roll. “Eat up, Greta. We've got a walk ahead of us.”

“You figured out what we're doing, then?” Greta asked.

“Yes. We've only got two options. It's a choice,” Chase said. “Not a good one. This is the page of warriors reversed, this is where that card comes in, I think.”

“What? You're not making sense. You said some weird stuff on the hill, too.”

“I'll explain that later when we have more time. Vaffanculo wants to attack our town and make people undead, or something like that, right? So the first choice is to go to the town and try to warn people, and prepare for a fight. But that's the bad choice.”

“We have to warn them!” Greta protested.

“No! Because everyone who can fight isn't in town. They went out here, into the woods. The good choice is what we were going to do originally! The good choice is to find Dad and the others, tell them what's going on, and get them back to town to defend it! That way we might have a chance. Although...” Chase bit into the roll, chewed, and weighed her options.

Her terrible, illegal, exciting options.

“Oracles,” she said, after her mouth was clear.

“Mrrrfff?” Greta asked around a big bite of bread.

“Renny. Do you know if Oracles are any good against undead or necromancers?”

Renny blinked, cloth eyelids sliding over glass. “Yes. They can heal, and undead are hurt by divine healing. I remember that from training.”

“They can heal...” Chase muttered, as her eyes slid over her sister's face. The bruise on it was fading, almost gone as Greta's meal restored her HP. She didn't need healing now, but if another situation like that arose, then a healing skill could mean the difference between life and death.

Damn it all.

This was going to cost her money. But she couldn't see any other way around it.

“Status,” Chase commanded, and the words that defined her appeared, sliding neatly into her view. “Help Unlocked Job Oracle,” she said, and Greta stirred, face worried.

“Chase?” Greta asked, but her sister's worried expression vanished, hidden behind the wall of words that materialized.

ORACLE

Chosen by a god or affected by proximity to a divine influence, Oracles serve to embody the concepts and will of their patron. They can heal, remove and transfer conditions, and eventually overcome time itself with foresight and wisdom. Oracles gain experience by predicting the future and aiding those around them to cope with twists of fate.

Do you wish to become an Oracle at this time?

“Yes,” Chase spoke.

And everything stopped.

CHASE'S CHARACTER SHEET

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