Edgar, Doctor Who, and I entered the battlefield together. We needed to get into position before the others could charge. They didn’t have the same sneaking capabilities as us. Liv’s white form glowed in the moonlight. The poltergeists relied on their armour and weapons to inflict any actual damage, and Hruk’s Sneaking Mastery didn’t compare to mine.

Wrapping the cape around myself concealed every inch of my halfling form. However, according to Hruk it didn’t conceal the mana signatures of the devices within or Sasha. He intended to add runes that would diffuse the energy emitted by my two bracers, but he could do nothing about the wand. As for Sasha, since she her aether core was more powerful than any other on me, I left her in the fort. We didn’t know for sure whether the skinks had mana sensitive individuals and I refused to take unnecessary risks.

The skinks had set up a defensive line just beyond the fort’s collapsed gate and crumbled wall section. We crept towards it along the wall, away from bits of the courtyard bathed in moonlight. The edges of my cape swirled and licked at the surrounding shadows. They appeared distinctly darker at first, but then the two shades of black merged, becoming one. As for Edgar, I couldn’t see or hear him at all. The lack of material bodies came with advantages.

Of the three of us, only Doctor Whoo made any sound. The talons on her forelimbs occasionally scraped stone, but it blended in with the rustling leaves. Hruk had assured me that skinks didn’t have the best hearing outside of water, so we had no reason to worry. However, since they had Dexterity as their primary attribute, the monsters likely had excellent senses too.

From what I understood, skinks weren’t too different from goblins. They were a sneaky bunch and had a reputation for raiding and banditry. Instead of spirit calling and tinkering, their focus lay in herbology, alchemy, and Manipulation magic with a water focus. They and Grog’s Tribe had been at war for centuries, but neither were stupid enough to attack each other in their own territories. The skinks had a distinct advantage in the swamps around liquid water. Meanwhile, the frigid temperatures in goblin territory didn’t mix well with their cold blood, slowing down their movements. I knew better than to draw parallels between goblins and skinks out loud around Hruk. He’d chew me to bits.

Just as we reached the crumbled gate, one skink standing guard stiffened. His snout crinkled, and he turned his head to the sky, sniffing. My heart thumped in my chest and jaw clenched. We hadn’t washed in over a week. Shrikes smelled like any wild beast, but I had developed an especially horrid stench. The post orgy stank didn’t hold a candle to it. While coming up with the plan, we had forgotten to account for the skinks’ heightened sense of smell.

Suddenly, a curved shadow blade extended out of the shadows. It slid across the skink’s neck, opening scaly hide, and drawing blood. The humanoid reptile’s eyes widened as it clutched his neck and staggered backwards. I held my breath, hoping it wouldn’t make a gurgling sound and give away our position. Fortunately, it just collapsed.

The scythe retreated into the shadows and for a moment I saw a little head poked out of the darkness. A hand followed and gestured me to follow. I obliged, wrapping the cloak more closely around me. I couldn’t tell whether the act did anything for smell, but one could only hope.

By killing the skink, Edgar had opened a path to our target: a giant set of ant-hill-like structures. I stayed low while Doctor Whoo climbed to the top of the walls. We crept forwards holding our breath. The skink war band had round about a hundred. A dozen stood on guard: six along the wall opening, and the rest guarded their perimeter. Fortunately, they had made the mistake of spreading the guards out too far. The one closest to us leaned on his spear and appeared to sway.

“Perfect,” I whispered, zipping towards the ant-hill-like structures. I weaved between tents and slumbering skinks, treading softly. My giant, hairy feet didn’t make any noise as usual. It was perhaps the best bit about my physiology—besides my gorgeous face, of course.

After scanning my surroundings, I snuck up the closest conical ant hill and got out of Edgar’s way. The shade looked up at me expectantly and I ensured Doctor Whoo was in position before giving him the signal he awaited: I summoned Sasha. Edgar’s head emerged from the shadows into the light, and I was sure his mouth’s silhouette spread into a smile.

The shadows coiled into a slender humanoid figure unlike the one I had seen before. It had the delicate features of a teenaged boy and a wild mane of hair. I guessed it was Edgar’s original form or that of the lich he called upon when at death’s door. Edgar raised his hands above his head and a green necrotic glow spread from them. The light shaped itself into runes and concentric circles. The sudden illumination got several nearby skinks to stir, but it was too late. Edgar thrust his hands into the ground and the anthills shook. Cracks spread from them into the ground.

Alarmed hisses and growls sounded all around me as the ant hills shook. Then the smaller ones started falling apart and Labrador-sized creatures crawled out of them.

Ghouls

Undead is too glorious a term when it comes to ghouls. They originate from entities cursed with a status of undeath and are left with only two impulses: feed and reproduce.

The creatures born of their perverse union aren’t new life. Instead, the curse fragments what’s left of their will and mind, before passing them onto new bodies. As long as there is food, ghouls will continue to increase in number and with each generation, they’re more hungry vermin than the husks they started as.

Fortunately, ghouls are fragile and may as well be made of paper. Fire terrifies them too. However, if they come at you in numbers, their razor-sharp claws and fangs will shred you to pieces.

“Nasty things,” I mumbled as a shiver ran down my spine. The creatures looked like hunched over children with grey mottled skin. As more holes opened up, they spilled out in a torrent, gnashing their teeth and groaning. A large group of them sniffed at the air and turned on me, but we had prepared for the occurrence. Edgar had claimed that Mind Magic was among the few tools capable of controlling them. So, despite the precarious position, I strummed the guitar and started playing.

Arcane Strings helped me ease Mind Mana out of Sasha’s core and around the strings. It amplified the volume and helped me channel everything towards the ghouls. Their noises ceased, and I conveyed the message that I was one of their kind, and the skinks were all food. The panicked lizard-people ignored me as expected. They attacked the ghouls, swiping with spears and axes. As predicted, none of the ranged attackers fired at me. First of all, they could barely see me while shrouded in shadows. Secondly, they had more pressing matters at hand.

The ghouls continued to spill out of the ground like a geyser. They charged into and through tents, throwing themselves upon weapons and dying. However, one in every five ghouls left a skink scratched or bitten before dying. Now that they heard my music, animated suits of armour and banshees poured out of the fort. They rushed across the courtyard into the camp. Since they lacked flesh, the ghouls weren't interest in them.

When I spotted Hruk following them on booger’s back, I reached out to Doctor Whoo and called back the mana that Satchel Monster used to keep her in her miniature form. I lost a fifth of the energy during retrieval, but the rest helped expand my mana pool to half its original size.

Satchel Monster as progressed to Novice Rank 5!

I swiped the notification away and focused on the battlefield below. Doctor Whoo understood her responsibilities and crawled along the rocks nearby, instead of dropping into the fray. I doubted Sasha’s Mind Mana would convince the critters that Maya wasn’t food. I worried they’d swarm her and rip her to pieces. Perhaps her thick fur would keep the tiny ghouls from sinking their fangs in, but the long claws worried me.

Once Doctor Whoo was close enough, I called on the newly regained mana. For the second time since picking up Druidic Inclinations, I summoned the shrike’s magic. It felt strange and nothing like the rest of my mana expenditure. A clear mental image formed of Doctor Whoo using updraft. I recalled her first usage from when the skinks attacked us the first time. Dust and dead leaves had swirled on the surrounding ground. Then a powerful burst of air had struck her from underneath. It caught the large mass of folded loose fur between her arm and sides and lifted her into the air. Then the same thing happened at my feet as the mana left me.

A powerful gust of wind buffeted me from underneath, catching my cloak. The shadow garment ballooned, and I added to the force with a jump. Wind-Manipulation magic lifted me six feet, adding height to the leap. Once out of the location-locked spell’s area of effect, my cloak fell around me and gravity pulled me down, but Doctor Whoo was now in reach. I released Sasha and let her strap take over and grabbed onto the young shrike’s fur. Security came after several heart-thumping seconds of scrambling.

“Go, girl!” I whispered, pointing at a narrow break in the crags bordering the far end of the skink camp. My actions had caused the necessary chaos and confusion. Now, it was up to Hruk to follow.