Stathis’ blade swung out, crunching through bone. The skeleton didn’t appear particularly concerned, taking a step forward and slowly swinging back with its own weapon, a rusted and worn hunk of metal. Stathis blocked, the blade screeching off her shield before she smashed back, through a ribcage and then the spine. It fell over, still trying to right itself and attack, as she kicked the sword away from it. More of the things approached, one even wearing armour, although held together more by rust and inertia rather than craft. Pajaran swung her mace, smashing through another one in a burst of bone chips.

The place was full of them, all slowly shambling around with wet, gulping footstep, heavy mud pulling at them as they moved. Mercifully, they were unobservant, whatever senses remained in their empty skulls highly limited. She drew back, baiting them into approaching in single file, trying to smash through limbs before they could attack. A rusted blade smashed against her arm and dented the metal slightly. Stathis’ counterattack sent a skull flying. This drove the thing into a frenzy, blade swinging and lashing at random, smacking against Stathis’ armour several times before she was able to destroy it. The sound was loud in the quiet morning, startling birds up from nearby undergrowth.

She attacked again, slicing through the other skeleton and destroying it, then smashing the downed remnants, still clattering and clicking on the ground. Ahead of her were the empty remnants of the village, abandoned not long ago, if the lack of weeds was anything to judge by, roofs and walls all still fully intact.

From here she could see several dozen skeletons, wandering around the village as though alive. Some were going through the motions of farming, a few even sat outside what looked like it had once been a pub, raising empty hands to their skulls as though taking a drink. In the centre of the village green was a high pole, hanging from which was a cage. Inside, a figure could just about be seen, probably miserable if this rain had been going on for long.

‘Looks grim. We should be careful, don’t want to get swarmed.’ Pajaran stamped down on an arm, the thing crunching to a stop as she crushed it.

‘Let’s move around, see if there’s a better approach.’

They did a slow circuit of the village – the skeletons didn’t have any great awareness, staying within particular areas, and were easily destroyed when they could get the drop on them. The centre of the village was choked with them though, more of the things all closer together.

The only sign of life was a thin trail of smoke coming from a chimney of the pub – that must be where the wizard was staying. Unfortunately, the walls were sturdy stone, and even the roof was slate, so smoking him out by setting the place on fire wasn’t an option.

They started to move closer, trying to stick to the thickest undergrowth and hide behind buildings and walls, having to skulk and lurk uncomfortably. The rain was seeping into her clothing, making it uncomfortable and hard to move. As they moved, they came across destroyed bones, evidence that there had once been more of things.

Navigating towards the edge of the village without a confrontation was easy. Stathis knelt against a wall, trying to force herself to be calm. She extended her senses, and then recoiled in shock. Something was nearby, powerful and cold and evil. It was like being dunked head-first into a toxic spring of bitter cold ice water, setting her nerves jangling. No normal necromancer would have an aura like that, surely? A bit cold and dark, but this was stronger than even the few demons she’d encountered before, all seething, hissing evil, snapping with malice and spite.

The day suddenly seemed colder and darker, the shadows blacker, even the splatting, splashing sounds of the rain quieter, as Pajaran shifted, armour clinking. She’d have to keep an eye out for whatever it was, and try and ambush them – even the best wizard was hard-pressed to cast spells when there was a sword stuck through them. Now all they had to do was try and find the best way to the centre, and free the prisoner.

A skeleton shuffled past the alleyway they were hiding in. Stathis stepped out and sliced through their spine, torso falling to the ground with a “splat”. She stamped on the ribcage, before shoving her sword through the skull, breaking whatever magic animated it. Its writhing ceased, bones falling apart now the power animating it was gone.

‘Good shot.’ Pajaran nodded in approval. ‘We’ll be in trouble if a pack of them notice us. We’ll have to be careful.’

‘It’s one less, at least. And it looks like Cothay is still alive.’ She pointed at the figure in the cage, close enough that they could be seen to move. The cage glowed with a sickly green glow though – probably some kind of locking spell, or something to prevent the occupant escaping? Either way, they would have to wait for the necromancer to be slain, escorting someone in the middle of a fight was more trouble than Stathis wanted to take on.

‘Good, I don’t think we get paid for a corpse. And we definitely won’t get a song from him if he’s dead.’

Stathis dropped low, trying to move to another patch of shadows as quickly and quietly as possible, Pajaran following close behind. Although the rain was miserable it at least hid traces of their presence. She looked around a corner as stealthily as possible, having to use her mortal senses rather than anything magical – there was a cluster of four skeletons, all looking away, seeming to be the bodies of those that had spent all their time loitering outside the pub. A fifth approached from behind, an arm raising itself as though in greeting.

Then there was a shattering sound as an arrow smashed into an arm, shattering the bone, a moment before another arrow smashed the skull and it collapsed in a pile of bones and dust. Stathis looked back to where the arrows had come from, trying to spot the archer – was there someone else that had been hired to save the prisoner, or someone that was after her? There shouldn’t be anyone that knew she was here, but it was possible one of Mother’s enemies had somehow found out.

The four skeletons didn’t react to the destruction of the fifth, their senses not aware of what had happened outside of their sight. Would she be fired upon if she moved into the open? The village was surrounded by scrub and bushes, giving ample places for a sniper to hide, especially in the perpetual drizzle.

Stathis retreated into the alleyway, then climbed through a window into the cottage, Pajaran following. It was still in good order, everything neatly put away and not yet covered in dust or rot; the villagers must only recently have left. From how clean the skeletons were, they had obviously been dead for some longer period – none had any flesh on their bones, exposure to the elements having cleaned them. As she moved across the room, leaving a trail of mud behind herself, she tried to listen out for any more sounds, of bone being broken, or an arrow cutting the air. Instead she heard a blast of breath, followed by a grunt of pain.

From a window on the other side of the building, she tweaked open a shutter, just enough to see. Three skeletons were fighting something, their arms moving in steady strikes, uncaring of defence. Between them was the rogue from the pub. She dodged one strike, blocking one with her forearms and getting knocked off-balance, as the third struck home, cutting across her ribs. Blood immediately welled out, washing away in the rain. Her shortsword cut back, bouncing off bone without doing more than shaving shards off, before attacking again and cutting off a fingerbone.

She was injured, and, against three opponents, even weak ones, would be overwhelmed soon. And she was being pushed back towards the main square – as soon as that happened, then the main group of the undead would see her and descend, tearing her apart.

‘Crap, she needs help. Come on!’ Stathis pulled at the wooden shutters, yanking them off the frame and putting them aside, opening up the gap enough that she could climb through. Outside, the fight was still progressing, the woman’s short sword barely scratching the skeletons, her targeting of weak points useless against something that was already dead.

Still, she was keeping them distracted, making it easy for Stathis to approach and bring her sword around in wide, heavy arcs. She smashed through the animated bodies, bone crunching under her assault, one of them immediately dropping, the other starting to sag as she broke through a leg. As it teetered off-balance, the rogue attacked, giving it a shove rather than attacking with a weapon, then hooking her weapon into an eye-socket and wrenching back, simply popping the skull off the body. The body immediately fell apart into a pile of bones. Pajaran charged, her mace crashing through a skull and destroying the last one. Then they drew back into the house, hopefully out of sight of the other skeletons, if they should chance to look around.

‘Hey, you two were from the bar!’ The woman’s voice was light and relaxed, despite their wounds and that they were still looking around cautiously, weapon at the ready. And she reeked of booze, likely still drunk.

‘Yeah, I’m here to rescue the prisoner. You?’

‘Same. Got, like, hired by that wizard-woman.’

Pajaran cursed. ‘What? How much did she promise you?’

‘Two thousand. Cash on delivery. And more drink!’

‘Bitch! So only one of us can get the reward. Although you look under-equipped. And really drunk. Are you OK?’

The woman’s only equipment was a pair of shortswords and some exceptionally battered leather armour. She had moved fast and with skill though, even if her weapons were of limited use against skeletons. Her armour was battered, and she had a few wounds, but none looked serious.

She looked suspiciously at them, sword still at the ready. ‘I’m, like, just doing it to get money to head home. Someone I know was doing a job here and buggered off and left me here, now I need to find them again. And I’ve done jobs drunk before, mostly worked out fine. Well, except that time everything ended up on fire.’

Pajaran sighed. ‘Well, we need to survive through this first. We deal with the skeletons and the necromancer first, and then sort something out?’

‘Yeah, but I earnt that money!’

‘If we don’t get out of here alive, then no-one’s getting any money. Reckon you can sneak in and get to the necromancer, slit his throat?’

‘I think there’s more of the skellies inside. Seen something moving in there. And they’re, like, hard to fight, these don’t do much.’ She poked the air with a sword, a cross look on her face. ‘And who are you two?’ She squinted suspiciously at Pajaran.

‘I’m Pajaran, a cleric of the Iron Shield. And this is Stathis, she hits things with her sword until they stop moving and gets hit so I don’t. How badly injured are you?’

‘Not too badly, few scratches. I’ll heal, I guess.’

‘Good. I’ll keep my powers for more serious wounds then.’

Stathis spoke. ‘There’s someone else out there as well. Unless you’ve got an archer friend? Saw one of the skeletons get dropped with an arrow through the skull. Good shooting, but I don’t know if they might attack us as well. And I think there might be something more than just skeletons around, I felt something hugely powerful and evil.’

The woman gave her a strange look. ‘You feel a lot of evil stuff? Get voices in your head telling you to kill things?’

‘No, it’s a magic thing.’

‘Ah, magic. Cool. So, like, demons or something? Heard they can be nasty, never seen one though. Lots of teeth and claws and tentacles, rawr!’ She made a mock-growling noise.

‘Yeah, they look all kinds of messed-up sometimes. But be careful, because they’re powerful and really hard to kill. They heal from most attacks – I can probably hurt them slightly, but if it’s anything powerful, we’re going to have to run away. Pajaran, do you have anything?’

‘You know I can’t do that stuff you do. You get special magical birthright powers, I had to spend years at a chapterhouse scrubbing floors and dishes while learning how to fight in the evenings. But if you think there’s demons about, we’ll be careful.’

The rogue spoke. ‘Not getting eaten by demons; good plan, I’ve heard that sucks. So what now?’

‘We’re going to have to try and sneak across to the pub somehow, without drawing all of the skeletons.’ Stathis looked out of the window – the rain was still pelting down, even heavier now, making it impossible to see across the square. ‘Anything here you can throw? See if that distracts them.’

Something shot past her head with great force, hurtling through the empty corner of the window, managing to make it an impressive distance before falling to the ground with a splat. Stathis ducked back down as something else flashed through the air, turning to see the woman’s hand snap out, as she took knives from a block, wrist blurring as she threw another one.

‘Warn me before doing that, you almost had me in the back of the head!’

‘I’m not going to hit you at this range. Um, probably. Anyway, did I get anything?’

Stathis turned again, peering outside. Three of the skeletons had moved, almost walking into each other as they moved towards the noise. ‘Yeah, looks like they can pick up on noise. That’s good, I was worried they’d be able to see souls or something.’

‘Hey, can they do that? Creepy, I don’t want a dead thing looking at my soul.’

‘I think it’s only more powerful ones, or those made by more skilled necromancers or something. Now we need to try and lure them away from each other.’ The woman immediately pushed past Stathis, trying to squirm through the window until Stathis and Pajaran pulled her back. ‘Let’s try and find a smaller group, pick them off.’

‘I guess. That seems boring though.’

‘Better than just charging in and dying. What was your plan!?’

She shrugged. ‘Dunno. I guess climb on the rooftops, and, like, set something else on fire. Then when mage-pants comes out, jump him and break his neck? That normally works.’

‘And just hope that the skeletons don’t kill you, or that the wizard has no protection spells? Can we at least try not to get killed?’

‘Sure, I guess, but your plan better not be boring!’ She glared at Stathis.

‘Right, I’ll do what I can. Just please don’t bring down a pack of those things, OK? There’s something powerful out there, more than just a necromancer, so we need to watch out for that.’

‘Cool, OK. Some big scary demon-wizard shows up, then I’ll let you deal with it. Although I kinda think she might have something to do with it. She looks pretty evil, right?’ She pointed out of a window on the other side of the building, where another woman could be seen, crimson cloak bright even in the grey drizzle.