The trip back to the graveyard seemed shorter than the trip out. Heather was in good spirits as Breanne joined them for the walk home. The elven banshee was a bit of a curiosity to Heather. Breanne was an undead that could easily masquerade as the living. She offered the Breanne a room in the tower so she could have a private space, and Breanne graciously accepted.

Frank and Quinny grumbled as they walked along carrying baskets of foodstuffs, perfumes, some silver glasses, and a dozen other things Heather bought while they were in town. She was particularly interested in a collection of sun hats she found in a shop and bought four of them.

They spent most of the trip talking about their plans for the graveyard and the surrounding land. This brought some cheer to Frank and Quinny, who described in great detail what they could do with their respective areas. Frank, in particular, shared his plans with boyish vigor, explaining how he wanted a dungeon heart so he could build a vast underground complex.

Heather spent a brief moment talking about her tower. She really didn't know what to do with her tower. Short of finding a way to add plumbing and electricity, Heather was clueless about what she wanted. She spent more time talking about the few things she had, including the book from the forest ruins.

Breanne asked some questions about the tower and the surrounding land but was mostly interested in the book itself. Heather explained as much as she could and pointed out that none of them knew how to open it. The book got Breanne thinking of what she knew of the necromancers and their spellbooks.

Heather was fascinated to hear in great detail how some of the spells worked. Breanne had no idea how to cast them, of course, but she saw the outcomes. Bridges of bone spanning canyons, entire swarms of skeletons bursting from the ground to fight. Choking mists that pulsed with a green light that drained the warmth and strength of the living. Growing long bony claws to slice foes.

It was all very intriguing, and it made Heather want to get the book open as soon as they could. Sadly this was the one thing Breanne didn't seem to know how to do. She asked very targeted questions about the band around the book, but in the end, could offer no advice.

As the afternoon of the third day began, Heather finished off the last bit of pizza they brought back. It was kept fresh on a curious wooden dish that was enchanted, so nothing on it would spoil. She had to pay extra for the preservation platter, but she was happy to spend it. She would find a good use for such a trinket later and wondered if she could keep cut flowers on it.

Frank suggested she keep her apples on it so they would stay fresh. Heather shook her head at the thought and felt her stomach turn. Just the thought of eating another apple made her wish the apple trees would catch fire.

As the banter went on, they crested a hill to see the distant tower surrounded by Quinny's forest.

“Home at last,” Quinny said.

“I suppose I should be happy,” Heather sighed.

“We could have stayed longer, we have some potion left,” Quinny urged.

Heather glanced over her shoulder to look at the zombie woman with a basket under one arm, and a bundle wrapped in cloth slung over a shoulder.

“I didn't want to keep putting you two at risk,” she replied. “We got the pizza and did some shopping. I can't ask for anything more.”

“You did too much shopping,” Frank groaned as he shifted one of the boxes he carried under an arm. “If we had stayed any longer, we would have needed to hire porters.”

“Too bad, Grettah had to leave,” Quinny replied. “She could have helped carry some.”

Heather felt sad that Grettah had indeed left. When Grettah learned that there were entire communities of her race in the nearby hills, she wanted to find them. She parted with a smile and went to look for them to set a home point. She promised to come to visit when she could and wished them well.

“As soon as I can, I will add a guest room to the tower,” Heather said as she tried to think of anything but Grettah.

“There is no rush,” Breanne said. “I am accustomed to living in the shadows of a graveyard.”

Heather tried to imagine that, but every image of it only made it seem silly. Breanne was a woman like she was and must have some need for personal space. If what Frank said about the tower was true, Heather could expand it to be much larger than it was now, with dozen of floors and hundreds of rooms. She would set some of this aside for Breanne to live in so she could have a bedroom and some privacy.

“I honestly have no idea what to do with my tower,” Heather admitted. “What did the necromancers do with theirs?”

Breanne smiled as she thought back. “From what I can see, your tower is tiny. I remember Tilvios; the silver eye had a tower ten times as high with side towers that butted out of it. There were gardens on terraces and stables near the top for the terrocs.”

“What’s a terroc?”

Breanne looked at her with a pleased expression. “A winged beast, a lot like a dragon, only smaller and with no forearms. The necromancers and some others use them as mounts to fly.”

“They did?”

“Oh yes,” Breanne said. “I have no idea where they got them, but I saw them fly over many times. I saw the airships as well.”

“Airships?” Frank interrupted. “They don't have any technology in this world.”

“Not technology, magic,” Breanne corrected. “The airships are often used by the enchanters. They can make objects lighter than air, so the high-level ones build flying boats or houses.”

“I don’t recall ever reading about that,” Frank said. “But it sounds cool.”

“I never did like that word,” Breanne said distastefully.

“Ha, Breanne is old enough to remember when that word didn’t exist,” Quinny laughed.

“I am old enough to remember when a lot of things didn't exist,” Breanne said. “When I grew up, even the electric typewriter was a new invention. Cell phones were something that only existed in storybooks.”

“I can’t imagine a world with no cell phones,” Quinny said.

“I can,” Heather replied and spread her arms out to encompass the world around them. “It looks like this.”

The group was silent a moment before Quinny shrugged. “This is different, though. I know cell phones exist, I just choose to live where I can't use one.”

“A lot of things can be mimicked with magic,” Breanne said. “The spell casters all have ways to talk to people in distant places.”

“How do necromancers do it?” Heather asked.

“I am sorry, I just don't know. I lived in the lands of their empire, but I was only a citizen. I wasn't part of the process of building it or involved in their plans. I was content to live in a haunted graveyard that had a few houses in it.”

“So, you did have a house?” Heather asked.

“I lived in one that was part of the graveyard. It was a caretaker's house, I believe.”

“Well, you're taking a room in the tower as soon as I can set some space aside.”

“We already agreed on that,” Breanne reminded her.

Heather nodded and went back to wondering how necromancers might communicate over distance. She supposed she could write a message down and send a skeleton to deliver it. That seemed a little slow for the purpose, but no other idea came to mind.

As they reached the edge of the forest, Quinny took over the lead until she could add Breanne to her friend's list. The undead would ignore her, of course, but the wolves and bats might not. With Quinny nearby, they would obey simple commands to go away, and she led them through to the graveyard.

Everything was as it should be under the forest canopy. The dark green leaves blotted out the sun in most places, so that gloomy shadow dominated below. The gloom gave rise to thick mossy trees with clumps of fern and spiky grass growing about them. The ground was mostly clear but had clumps of weeds and brush as well as the occasional fallen log. Glowing eyes would blink in the dark patches of the brush or hollow logs, but always at the corner of your vision. Whenever you looked directly at them, you would see nothing but the darkness. There was a strange lack of bats and wolves in the forest.

There seemed to be a strange lack of bats and wolves, but Heather assumed they were in other parts of the forest. As they arrived at the gate of the yard, they heard fighting and shouts.

“Somebody is here,” Heather said as she peeked into the yard.

“Let’s go kill them,” Quinny said with a smile.

“Quinny!” Heather remarked. “We want people to like coming here.”

Quinny shrugged as Frank cautiously entered the yard. Though the yard wasn't too big, the mausoleums allowed for many blind spots from where they stood. They could see a dead skeleton in the pathway and two more on the lawn just beyond.

“Maybe I should go into my tunnels,” Frank suggested as he looked around.

“Why?” Heather asked.

“If they see me, they might attack without thinking to talk,” he offered.

Heather saw his point but didn't like the implication. He was a monster player, and that meant the regular players expected to battle him, but they didn't have to. However, he was right. The players would likely take one look at him and attack.

“Why don’t you sneak into your tunnels through Quinny’s burial mound,” Heather said as she remembered him mentioning making a tunnel to the mound.

“And what are you going to do?” he asked.

“I will go see who it is,” Heather said defiantly. She realized they would assume she was a regular player and try and talk to her. “Just put my stuff down inside her mound. I will send the skeletons for it later.”

Frank agreed and walked off with Quinny, leaving Heather standing with Breanne.

“Do you want me to come with?” Breanne asked.

“No, wait here a minute,” Heather replied. She strode into the yard and made her way down the brick path until she spotted three people near the back corner. One was a tall warrior type in chain armor with a flowing blue cloak. Another was a shorter gristly looking man with leather armor. He was covered in bags, pouches, and other equipment and held a sharp sword in each hand. The last was a woman in blue and white robes with flowing golden hair. She held a long silver staff in her hands and leaned on it as they spoke.

“Hello there,” Heather called to alert them to her presence.

All three turned to look at her with wide eyes.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Heather remarked when they didn’t respond.

“And who are you?” the woman asked as she looked Heather up and down.

Only then did Heather remember she was in a red dress with black lace and highlights. She looked every bit the part of a woman on her way to a gothic ball and not a wandering adventurer.

“Oh, I'm Heather,” she replied, trying to regain her composure.

“What is a city lady doing out here in the deep countryside?” the woman pressed. “Or is there a fashion show going on somewhere nearby?”

Heather felt her anger start to creep up at the woman’s sudden mocking tone. Manners were not something to overlook, even in a fantasy world.

“I am not playing the lady class,” Heather snapped. “I am a...” she paused to catch herself and quickly shifted. “Flower singer.”

“A flower singer?” the tall warrior mocked. “Dressed like that?”

“What’s wrong with my dress?” Heather demanded.

“That outfit wouldn’t stop a stiff breeze,” the warrior mocked. “You should be wearing that natural armor the singers have.”

Heather wasn’t sure what he meant and made a mental note to look it up later. She looked down at her dress and smoothed out the skirt a bit before looking up.

“I happen to like dresses.”

“Nobody wears anything like that outside the major cities or towns,” the woman said. “And there are no towns for three days travel from here.”

“I live in the tower,” Heather said with a pointing finger.

“You live all the way out here in an isolated tower?” the shorter man with the bags and pouches asked.

“I value my privacy,” she returned with folded arms.

“We were going to explore the tower next,” the warrior said as she looked at it forlornly.

“The tower is off limits,” Heather stated firmly. “You can kill the skeletons in the yard, but the tower is my personal space.”

The three looked almost amused by the comment, causing Heather’s annoyance to grow.

“What are you doing in my graveyard?” she demanded to hurry things on.

“Your graveyard?” the warrior laughed. “What kind of flower singer has a graveyard?”

“I found the graveyard here and used my second class to be a recluse,” Heather said. “I picked the option to make it a gothic tower to fit the yard.”

“Must be a goth girl,” the blond woman said. “Nobody else would wear that outfit and live out here.”

“Excuse me!” Heather scolded. “I am not a goth, but what would it matter if I was?”

The woman in blue laughed as she ignored Heather and turned to her companions. “Common this graveyard was hardly worth the trouble to stop at.”

“This is a lovely graveyard,” Heather insisted.

“It’s a waste of time and space,” the woman said. “Whoever built it should be ashamed of the points they wasted.”

Heather felt a pang of insult from the harsh words. The only reason it wasn’t a grand yard the stretched over the hills was because players like this kept resetting Frank.

“A lot of work went into making this graveyard, the least you could do is be nice,” Heather insisted.

“It had a dozen skeletons and two zombies,” the woman remarked. “It wasn’t worth the time to kill them, and there is obviously nothing of value in the tower.”

“None of them had any loot either,” the shorter man added.

Heather felt her face flush with anger to have her tower insulted and Frank’s hard work trod on. She quickly recovered as a plan hatched in her mind and a smile curled her lips.

“Oh, you wanted loot,” Heather said in a calm voice. “You should explore the tunnels.”

“What tunnels?” the warrior asked.

Heather smiled and pointed to the mausoleum that she knew led right to Franks's dog.

“There is an entrance to some tunnels under the graveyard through there. A low-level ghoul player lives down there.”

“Just one player?” the woman asked.

“Ah, huh,” Heather said with an innocent blink. “He has a small number of tunnels and hides his treasure in one of the rooms.”

“How do you know all this?” the woman asked suspiciously. She stepped closer to Heather and eyed her up and down again. It was clear the woman was wary of Heather’s intentions, so Heather decided to be honest to a point.

Heather sighed. “We're friends, so he doesn't attack me, but I am not allowed in his tunnels. If you go down there, he will attack, friend or not.”

“And he has treasure down there?” the shorter man asked as she leaned closer.

“He has killed a few adventurers and has their stuff down there,” Heather said truthfully. “He once told me he had a fair bit of gold hidden in an urn.”

The three exchanged looks, and the warrior shrugged. “We're here; we might as well go check.”

“It will only take a minute,” the shorter man said. “A low-level ghoul isn't too hard to beat.”

“What if there are traps?” the woman in blue asked. “Surely, he has earned some experience and has added something.”

“There are three of us and one of him,” the shorter man pointed out. “Besides, I can find traps, and you can heal. We will be fine.”

The warrior drew a large sword and pointed it to the mausoleum. “Let’s go check then.”

Heather smiled as the three made their way to the mausoleum. She slipped away and ran back to Breanne, who was hiding by the gate.

“What did they want?”

“They are just adventurers,” Heather said in a dry tone. “But they are very rude. I sent them down to Frank.”

“Why would you do that?” Breanne asked with a confused look.

“So Frank could deal with them,” Heather replied with a smile.

“Isn’t Quinny down there too?”

Heather smiled. “She is, and so is Frank’s grave hound.”

“You sent them to die?”

Heather folded her arms and looked back into the yard. “I was willing to be nice until they became insulting. I made them think that Frank is a lot lower level than he is.”

“And what if they win?” Breanne asked.

Heather smiled and walked into the yard, holding out her hands.

“Rise and serve!” she commanded, and red light filled the skulls of the slain skeletons. With a clattering sound, the bones reassembled and rose to their feet.

“Come here!” she added and brought them all together in a group right before her.

“What are you doing?” Breanne asked.

“They said the skeletons were no challenge to them,” Heather replied. “I am going to fix that.”

“How?”

Heather smiled and began to chant, “Terrothos, et licarum, lichoss.”

“What was that?” Breanne asked.

“Howl from the grave,” Heather said as black smoke began to pour from the graves around the skeletons. The smoke twisted and turned, reaching out like snakes to the skeletons. Their eyes suddenly went purple with blazing light, and they increased in size as sharp spikes grew out of their bones.

“Oh my?” Breanne said as she took a step back.

Heather stood boldly before the skeletons and pointed to the mausoleum.

“Go into the tunnels and protect Frank and Quinny! Kill those foolish adventurers if you find them,” she commanded.

The skeletons let out a screech and rushed into the mausoleum as if filled with maddened rage.

Heather began to sway as she waited. A moment latter distant cries of alarm echoed up from the mausoleum followed by loud banging noises.

“You lured them into a trap,” Breanne said in shock.

“I wasn’t going to,” Heather remarked as a cry for help echoed out of the tunnels. “But they were so mean.”

“Watch out for the dog!” a woman’s voice echoed out.

“There’s a zombie player too!” a voice yelled before being cut off in a gurgle.

Heather and Breanne listened intently as the cries died away. A minute later, Frank came out of the mausoleum dragging the two men. Quinny came out a moment later with the woman slung over a shoulder.

“Did you send them down there on purpose?” he asked.

Heather smiled and shrugged. “They said the graveyard wasn’t challenging enough. I just wanted them to have a good fight. Customer service is important to any business.”

Quinny laughed. “You told me not to kill them, then sent them to be killed.”

“They were very rude, and they did claim the graveyard was no challenge,” Heather stated. “I just pointed out where they might find a more challenging encounter.”

Frank nodded his grisly toothed maw and walked off with the bodies as Quinny followed.

Heather watched them go to the burial pit to add the bodies to the growth of the graveyard with a smile.

“You are very wrong about yourself,” Breanne said.

Heather had almost forgotten Breanne was standing there and turned about in alarm.

“Wrong, how?”

Breanne smiled at her. “You say this class was forced on you, but you were born to be a necromancer, and you will be one of the greatest this world has ever seen.”

Heather looked back to where Frank was digging out the pit and wondered if Breanne was right. It felt good using the power, and the plan came to her so naturally. She still wanted to go home and secretly hoped to find a way, but while she was here she could have a little fun, couldn’t she?

Her smiled broadened as the bodies were thrown in. A little fun was good, but why not have a great deal of fun? After all, isn’t that what this world was all about?