Stathis blocked a slow strike, the skeleton then falling over as a blast of darkness smashed its skull into dust. She spun low, taking out a leg with another swing before rising and stabbing again, her blade sticking in a ribcage. As the second skeleton drew back to swing at her, it sank downwards, hacking at Pajaran and scoring a hit against her chest before falling over. Stathis stamped down, crushing the juddering bones beneath her feet.

‘That wasn’t too bad. How many more of the things are there?’

They’d managed to circle around the green, darting out to ambush small groups of skeletons, swiftly smashing them apart without suffering any serious injuries themselves. The rain made it wet, uncomfortable work, mud sucking at Stathis’ feet with every step, but the four of them were able to make swift work of the skeletons, smashing them apart before they could raise an alarm.

Now all that was left was the large group in the centre, swollen to several dozen, far more than they could safely take on at once.

The wizard pointed upwards, at the caged figure. ‘Only Galrithian linen can have that particular emerald hue. So that must be our target. Cothay is known for his love of such garments.’

‘Great. So now we just need to get rid of the necromancer and then get them down. I don’t suppose you know the necromancer at all?’

‘And quite why would you assume such a thing?’ The crimson fleck in her hair briefly glowed. ‘Are you trying to imply all of an arcane nature know each other?’

The rogue looked up from smashing a skull apart. ‘You do look, like, y’know… kinda evil. You ever sacrificed any virgins on a black beach beneath strange stars, that kinda thing?’

‘That is a baseless accusation! I can think of far more pleasurable things to do on beaches, if nothing else. Although virgins tend to be tiresome to educate, I prefer those with a little more experience in such matters.’

Before they could start bickering, Stathis tried to calm matters down. ‘Do you know anything that could be useful, or have any way to tell what they’re doing?’

The wizard bent to pick up a shattered skull-fragment, pointing to a swirling circle of silver embossed into the bone. ‘That is a simple binding, used to command the body into simple obedience. Without active commands, then behaviour will be limited. It takes an imprint of the bearer’s soul, to behave much as they did in life. Except for violence towards those of the living it encounters, of course.’

Pajaran asked the obvious question. ‘So can you break the binding, or shield us from their sight, anything useful?’

‘Of course not, that would take a vast amount of power.’ The wizard tossed the skull-fragment to the ground, before crushing it with a dainty heel-stamp. ‘Fortunately, it does mean that there is no direct connection between them and their summoner. He may command them vocally, but he will be unaware that we have been destroying his tools.’

Pajaran spoke. ‘That’s something, I suppose. We’re going to need to distract the rest and then pick off the boss. The skeletons are all together, so unless you can cast a fireball or something, then we don’t want to fight through them all. If it was a smaller group, I could try and banish them, but against so many, there is little the powers of my faith can do.’

The central mob had grown, now several dozen strong. If it wasn’t for them being skeletons, it would have looked like a group of villagers, meeting to talk over the business of the day. These seemed to be armed with farming implements – pitchforks, hammers and scythes – but all looked sharp and heavy enough to cause injury.

‘Hey, you said that they’re, like, sorta-thinking like people?’ The rogue had smashed apart another skull and was now poking holes into a cottage wall with her dagger, seemingly for no reason other than boredom. ‘Cos I think they’re going to be distracted in a bit, when the fire takes hold.’

Pajaran and Stathis looked at each other, Pajaran the first to speak. ‘What fire?’

‘Kethys always says it’s good to have a distraction, so I started a fire in one of the cottages. Took a while to get going, but I reckon it should be taking properly by now. It’s over that way.’ She pointed through the drizzle towards a cluster of outlying cottages – thin lines of smoke could just about be seen, trailing out from shuttered windows. ‘See?’

‘It would have been nice to point that out earlier! Although if it draws the skeletons away, that’s a good thing.’

They waited, all trying to crowd into the same small patch of slightly-drier ground beneath an overhanging roof, squashing together into the small space. Everyone was sodden, the rogue’s ragged clothing fully soaked, Pajaran’s cloak now drenched through, the wizard’s dress clinging to her body, as she supressed a shiver. Stathis’ own gear was clammy, the padding beneath her armour squelching as she moved, water cold against her flesh.

She tapped Pajaran on the shoulder, then channelled energy and healed her, earning a smile as the golden sunlight ebbed away, lost in the drizzle. The smoke-trails got thicker, flames starting to lick out of the windows before the skeletons finally noticed. Most of them moved away, bony feet splashing through the mud, taking them away from the green.

‘Hopefully the rain will keep the fire from spreading. OK, are you two ready? Hopefully the necromancer’s been hitting the beer and fallen asleep or something.’

They ran across the village, or at least Stathis, Pajaran and the rogue did, the wizard falling behind, splashing indignantly through puddles, a look of distaste on her face as cold water splashed onto her bare legs, heels sinking into mud.

From ahead, a ray of sickening green energy blasted out, the energy sinking into Stathis. Her vision swam, guts broiling as she felt suddenly feverish. From the doorway of the pub, a figure stepped out in the drizzle, their black robe immediately darkening further from the rain, a skeleton walking out and advancing. A sickly green tinge of energy flared around their hand, before they gestured, another ray flying out. Stathis dodged this one, closing the ground as fast as she could, the rogue having vanished somewhere.

Stathis charged at a skeleton, two quick swings smashing it apart, before a bolt of darkness shattered the skull of another. Now in range, she thrust at the necromancer, hoping to end matters swiftly. Dark energy formed in the air, robbing her blade of momentum, a chill spreading up her arm as ice started to form on her blade.

They pulled their hood back to reveal a gaunt, drawn face, flesh unhealthily pale, eyes solid black. Energy spiked around their hand as they gestured at Stathis. She blocked, feeling coldness surging over her shield, biting into her arm even without touching her. Her own attack was slowed by the chilling, numbing aura he projected – she felt her attack connect, blade slicing through an arm, although without any obvious effect. A bolt of darkness flashed past her, fading from existence when it was about to hit.

She swung twice more, both strikes hitting but without obvious effect. Their dead-looking face turned to look at her, darkness burning out from solid black eyes. Then they spoke, a single word of an ancient tongue, their fingers bending into a mystical shape. An aura of death blasted out, Stathis shuddering as it seared into her, vision wavering, barely managing to keep a grip on her sword and stay standing. The grass vanished, disintegrating into dust as the necrotic energy swept out.

Stathis stabbed again, although her strength was fading, the blow going wide. Another bolt flew from behind her, this one hitting, dark energy rippling over his mystical barrier. Stathis forced herself to stay standing, hoping that the wizard might have something other than those bolts of darkness to pull out a victory.

Then the necromancer made a sound, groaning in sudden agony. The rogue had dropped down from the rooftop and shoved a sword into him, then grabbed his hand and snapped one of his fingers, breaking it. Before he could cast anything, she’d forced his hand open and broken another finger, twisting it sharply to the side. He tried to sink to the ground, face in agony. Stathis stumbled forward and stabbed, her blade sinking into his chest. He staggered backwards, coughing up blood, Stathis yanking the blade out, following up with another cut, before the rogue slit his throat, as Pajaran struck his shoulder with her mace, crushing the joint, bone and gore splattering out. The energy blinked out from his eyes, white pallor fleeing his flesh, before he collapsed to the ground. The rogue slit his throat several more times, just in case.

Stathis tried to gather her breath, checking the extent of her wounds – none seemed serious, and whatever the necromancer had cast seemed to be fading already. The rogue had dragged the body inside and was already rifling through the dead wizard’s robe, coming up with nothing more than a few manky-looking spell components and a handful of coins. She pocketed them, before Stathis knocked her sword against the doorframe. ‘Equal shares, at least!’

She was handed a gold and a scant few coppers, Pajaran being handed the same. Well, it was something at least. Pajaran gestured at the body. ‘Stathis, want to make sure he doesn’t get up again? This thing isn’t really made for slicing.’ She gestured with her mace.

Stathis drew her knife, kneeling to slit his tendons, making sure he wouldn’t get up again if he somehow resurrected. The wizard came over, looking at the body in distaste.

Pajaran spoke to her. ‘Can you check if he’s got anything magical? That robe might be enchanted.’ His robe was decorated, patterns picked out in silver thread. The cuts and slashes it had suffered, not to mention the blood and mud staining it, would probably hurt the resale value though.

The wizard looked down in distaste. ‘I would rather not. I prefer clothing undamaged, and untainted by blood, I must confess. And stripping a corpse naked is somewhat distasteful, especially the corpse of such an unappealing specimen.’

The rogue picked up the bottom of the robe, looking underneath. ‘He’s not naked underneath. Although could do with, like, getting out more, skin’s super white.’

Pajaran said a quick prayer over the body, hopefully preventing his wrathful spirit coming back, at least in the immediate future.

‘We’ve just killed him, I don’t think we need to insult him as well!’ Stathis pulled the rogue back. ‘Let’s go rescue the guy, and then we can get out of here. Will killing him destroy the other skeletons?’

The wizard shook her head. ‘Likely not, they are independent, albeit stupid.’

‘Right. So we’ve probably not got long until they get back. How are your wounds holding up, can you still move OK?’

She nodded. ‘Yes, thus far. Although I would very much rather stay out of direct combat. It seems dreadfully uncivilised.’ She looked down at the body, even as the rogue checked through the robe again. ‘How vulgar – the silver adds a touch of refinement, but on ash-grey? On a truly black robe, it would work, but on grey? Tragic, really. And he lacked the frame for something with such broad shoulders, and the hemming is sloppily done. Small loss to the world that he’s dead, really.’

Stathis ignored her. ‘Let’s go get Cothay down and find that magical stone. Was it on him?’

The rogue was giving the dead wizard a very thorough going through, with clammy, pallid legs flashing into view as she stuck her head underneath his robes. From somewhere beneath the robe, there was a cry of victory before she re-emerged with a silver box, inlaid with intricate curves and whorls. Moisture was beading on it – as Stathis reached out, she could feel the chill emanating from it before the rogue drew it back towards herself. ‘Finder’s keepers!’

‘I’m pretty such that’s a powerful and evil, magical item, that you probably don’t want to keep.’

‘I do wish people wouldn’t be so quick to label things they don’t understand as “evil”.’ The wizard approached, crimson-manicured nails reaching out to grab the box. Stathis and Pajaran moved in the way, noting her hair-lash brightening as she neared.

‘Let’s be careful with that, it’s probably dangerous. Don’t open the box!’ Pajaran reached out, too late, as the rogue slammed the box against the ground. There was a soft crash as it broke and the cold intensified, a black stone bound in silver bounds skittering across the ground.

The rogue dove for it, grabbing it and then hissing in pain, tossing it aside as her hand started to turn blue from cold.

Stathis stopped it with her foot, partially protected from the magic by her armour. She could feel her foot starting to chill, even through her boot. There was something there, more than the physical, a surging roar calling to her, urging her to take it and wield it in conquest. She could feel the light within her twitch slightly, wanting to be unleashed as a thing of cold fury, binding the world to her will. She ignored it, carefully hooking the stone with a twist of fabric and lifting it up.

The wizard sauntered over and flicked it with a crimson-manicured nail, a ripple of red swirling across the black, like inks mingling in a jar. She made a dissatisfied noise then stepped away, wrapping her arms around herself to try and stay warm, hunching into what shelter she could find. This left Stathis and Pajaran to get it back into the container, snapping it shut. The cold immediately vanished, although condensation started beading on the box. The urge to conquer vanished as the box clicked shut.

‘Can we please try to avoid unleashing evil artefacts on the world?’

‘Hey, it could’ve been something cool or powerful!’ The rogue poked the box, wiping away a droplet of water. The wizard reached for it as well, before Stathis handed it to Pajaran, who put it into a belt pouch.

‘You OK Stathis? You look a bit pale. Anyway, let’s go get Cothay and get out of here.'

The wizard spoke. ‘As a specialist in the arcane arts, do you not think I should be in charge of such things?’

Stathis tried to find polite words, before the rogue spoke. ‘You look pretty, like, evil, so I’m thinking no, maybe you don’t get to touch the evil ice rock thing.’

Before it could devolve into another argument, Stathis went outside, the others following behind. Now, the rain was getting even worse, hammering down hard enough to bounce off her armour. As they approached the pole, there was a shout from above, an arm poking out of the cage. It was supported by a chain, securely tethered by a heavy spike hammered deep into the ground. Stathis gave it a tug, unable to make it shift.

‘Any ideas?’ She smacked at the metal with her blade, doing nothing more than making it rattle.

The rogue moved over to the pole, giving it a solid kick. ‘Looks pretty weak, could smash it down?’

With the skeletons still around, it wasn’t safe to shout, but hopefully Cothay could see them working and brace himself. They set to attacking the pole, Pajaran’s mace making short work of the sodden wood. It started to teeter, before toppling over with a crash. The runes on the cage faded as the metal buckled, the door popping open. The occupant groaned, before crawling out and standing, brushing himself down and trying to rearrange his clothing, looking soggy and bedraggled. He looked between them all, as the rain continued to hammer down, flame-red hair slicking to his head.