The team of adventurers saw the smoke before they saw what was left of the town. Whatever horrors happened here, after today, only ashes would be witness, they were sure.

“Burned and ran?” One rogue asked.

“Nah, something’s off. Looks like the whole towns on fire. How would he light the whole town on fire at once?” One of the group’s more warrior-like members replied, metal armor jangling as he approached the town.

“We’ll know when we get closer.” One of the Mages replied.

They approached the town cautiously, eyes watching the tree lines on either side of them as they approached the town. Swarm tactics were a favorite of necromancers, and they prepared well to deal with them, especially after having fought zombies for the last several weeks.

Even after gaining considerable distance from the tree-line they kept their eyes peeled, looking around them.

Eventually, a few hundred feet away from the town, they stopped.

Walls of fire raged on either side of a wall of necrotic flesh. The bodies of villagers stared back at them, eyes glazed, as the fire raged around them, unmoving.

“Stupid tactic.” The first Mage said, throwing his backpack onto the ground. “Burning walls, really. We can just wait them out. Once the fire’s done, we’ll thin the horde. It’s a siege, then.”

“And we assassinate the necromancer. Day’s work. These guys are dregs, anyway.” The rogue replied, sitting on the grass with a grunt. She started sharpening her dagger. Then she squinted, turning and staring at the grass. “Do you hear that?”

“Shouldn’t raise your perception so high. You start hearing things.” A warrior replied nonchalantly.

“No, seriously — shut up. Put the bags down. I swear I hear something underground.”

“Oh yeah? All the way into the Deep, then? Hear any monsters?” A warrior laughed.

The rogue squinted harder.

A pulse of light cut the first mage’s head in half.

It had moved through the pillar of smoke in the town, slicing unerringly through the air and cleanly bisecting his head.

“What the fuck — “ The rogue’s head snapped around, looking towards her team.

The first mage’s smoking corpse hit the ground, and a warrior rushed forward, holding a shield between himself and the second mage.

He wasn’t a second late. Even as he raised it, he bucked, a second shot hit his shield. It glowed with heat, metal turning molten in his hands. He screamed, shoving the shield into the ground and moving back, his hands smoking.

He shouted curses.

A barrier popped into existence between the adventurers and the town, like a bubble of oil, turning the air iridescent outside of the little safe space they made.

A third shot landed, flowing around the barrel like a splash of water, bright hot yellow plasma bouncing off the side like it was nothing.

“What the fuck was that? He’s supposed to be a 5th grade Necromancer, not a Pyromancer.” The second Mage shouted.

“We run.” Sweat poured down the warrior’s face, his shield losing its shape under the heat from the blast. He uncorked a healing potion, pushing it back like it was antidote and he had just imbibed poison. He continued speaking through gasps. “We’re not prepared for whatever that was.” He reached for his bag, rummaging, before pulling out a second, smaller shield.

No one in the party dissented. The bags were loaded again, strapped onto their backs, and they prepared to retreat.

The zombie villagers flooded out of the gate, slowly, like a bubbling mass of undeath. The adventurers sped up. The second mage dug through the first mage’s pockets, pulling free a scroll and ripping a band off it. Unfurling it, she threw it at the approaching horde.

Fire bloomed outwards, undead flesh slogging off bone.

The undead continued pushing through it, burning corpses collapsing in the field.

“None are flanking.” The rogue said.

“That’s a good thing.” A warrior replied, hefting the first mage’s corpse over his shoulder. They wouldn’t leave any bodies here for a necromancer to play with. Especially not a friend.

“It’s suspicious, you idiot!”

The ground was shaking now, stone rattling, and the fire from the scroll dissipated.

“These are 10 gold a piece.” The second Mage groaned, pulling free a scroll from her own robe. “And we’re going to make nothing today.” She hesitated, looking at it.

A 4th shot of plasma hit the bubble, bouncing off of it.

One warrior screamed as the ground split open underneath him. A monster the size of the wagon emerged from the ground, its head a huge round drill that carved open the earth, and dozens of monstrous shapes emerged from the ground. Starfish of black steel poured out, rushing for the 2nd Mage. The warrior in the ground was still screaming, but instead of fear, it was anger. The sound of metal on metal rang out below the ground.

“New plan. We kill the Necromancer.” The Mage said, ripping open the scroll and throwing it into the hole.

There was a flash of light, the aura of the Goddess Seela spreading over the group. The rogue felt her wounds heal.

The black starfish didn’t stop moving. Instead, however, a monstrosity like a dog made of steel climbed out of the hole, covered in smoke. One of its heads spun like a monstrous, serrated jaw, and it stumbled left and right, before running at one warrior.

The serrated mouth of steel cut into his arm before he could ready his shield, grinding into his flesh. His sword slashed, and the monster’s serrated jaw went flying. His shield blocked its other heads. With a last thrust, the dog stopped moving, falling still.

One rogue, warrior, and Mage attacked the starfish climbing at the Mage, ending one with every blow.

Then the undead Templars arrived. The warrior turned, fending off two by himself, but the other closed on the rogue, one slashing at his back, landing a wound. The mage turned, blasting energy into the oncoming undead.

The warrior that had fallen into the hole finally climbed out, pulling the starfish off his flesh. They deployed tiny burning torches, cutting and burning wherever they could. He ran to join the melee.

“Go kill the necromancer!” The mage yelled a reminder, and the rogue was off. She couldn’t worry about what happened here. If she killed the Necromancer, almost every undead would drop. She activated all of her movement oriented skills, accelerating forward as fast as she could. She jumped over the undead, her perception struggling to keep up with her speed, dashing for the gate.

Two monstrous golems of bone closed in from either side of the gate to intercept her. The smoke had concealed them, now slowly revealing themselves even though she was still a hundred feet away. They raised their arms; the world unfolded almost in slow motion. She landed on the ground, then jumped. 75 feet. 50 feet. She adjusted, spinning in midair. 25 feet. She slid through two of the creature’s arms. A third landed a cut, its arm ending in sharpened bone that drove a gash down her side. She gasped, but she would have time to deal with the pain later.

She pulled a dagger free, spinning, trying to identify her target.

Necromancers were always egotistical bastards. You had to be to raise the dead; to see your life as worth more than the soul you were trapping here. So they always stood in the middle of the battlefield.

And there he was, right next to some kind of monstrous golem. Acolytes stood behind him.

She landed, throwing the dagger and jumping again. Even if the Necromancer had something to block the first, she would —

One of the acolytes flew through the air, intercepting her dagger. It buried itself in his flesh, his arms flailing wildly. The metal golem was still posed mid throw, its arm only just relaxing. Her eyes widened.

With slow and deliberate purpose, the golem raised a thin, purpose-built arm, and pointed the end towards her.

Light enveloped her.