"You're not going through with it... are you?"

It wasn't his family or confidantes coming after him. It was Barbara.

Scratch was tying a note to the familiar's claw.

It stood patiently on one leg, lifting the other towards him.

There was a clear intelligence to the bird.

"I wouldn't play a prank at a time like this," Scratch told her.

"But an undead horde?"

"If I remember correctly..." he was done tying the message, "the one most in favor of escalating was..."

She cradled herself and looked away. "Maybe I changed my mind."

The raven flew off and Scratch turned around to face her. "There's three possibilities here."

"Huh? What?"

"Number one. You just went up twenty IQ points inexplicably and suddenly understand diplomacy."

"It's not about that."

"Number two! You've been bought by big feudal and now you're turning against us."

"Will you listen to me-?"

"Numberrr thrree! You have a better plan! To assure us of victory even stronger."

"No! I don't!"

He had been jovial but she yelled desperately.

"I don't have any answers. Just. Not this!"

He paused to take her in for a moment. "You realize that we don't have another fight in us like we had today?"

"Yes."

"And if they keep hammering us like this, we'll go extinct?"

"...Yes."

"But you'd rather die than see me send out that note I just did."

She looked down.

"That doesn't sound like the Barbara I know. The Barbara I know will do whatever it takes to get an advantage... even monsters."

"I have my limits too, Papa! The Ravenous Lich is a devil that intends to devour the world."

"You know you could have just killed me," He suggested, "to stop the note I mean. You would have died quicker that way than if the world's devoured."

Her jaw unclenched. The thought simply hadn't entered her mind.

"I'm disappointed in you, Barbara." Scratch walked past her. "When you were first brought to us I thought I had recognized a kindred spirit, but it sounds like you still have scruples. Just loose ones."

"I know you're a monster," she walked after him, "and you don't care about killing humans. But these are *skeletons*. They kill everything. Are you really willing to torch the land to rule the ash?"

"If only it were so easy!" He laughed. "Torch the place to rule it! No, no, somebody would have gotten there before us. If we nuke this place all that does is escalate things with the captain. And if not with the captain than with *his* boss. We'd just stay dependent on them forever."

"Then why?"

He turned his face upwards to look at her as she almost stumbled over him. "Have you noticed anyone else trying to stop me?"

"No?"

"That's because they're preparing."

There hung a tension in the air.

A rancid still atmosphere had bubbled up from the trampled mud.

It didn't enter the mind of Henry and Diane to rear their heads at it. It seemed perfectly natural that they'd be short of breath, as both were screaming.

"Are you a man!?"

"Don't yell at me Diane!"

"Are you a man!? How could a man let this happen?"

"They're the king's men! This is the king's land!"

"Oh gods, protect us." She turned away from him, "we're going to starve."

Their farm had been ransacked by knights, in order to serve the ongoing war effort.

"Darling-"

"Don't call me darling!" She slapped his arms away.

"Diane, they wouldn't let us starve. Why, the crops are nearly mature. We can take some of the harvest we would have sold. It might not be as appetizing, but..."

"Then we will starve in the winter! Damn you Henry, I'm an old woman! I can not make a living hiking through the wilds as an adventurer! You have invited the specter of death upon us!"

As she said it, the specter of death appeared in their sights.

A skull stripped of the soft tissue was staring at them from a few paces away.

A rail thin skeleton shambling over the muddy road towards the farmer and his wife.

It was blackened by dirt. A monster of death from the loosened earth.

A breathless gasp escaped its jaws at it stretched out its boney digits and lunged for them.

"Ah! Henry!"

The women fell to the ground, as much from panic as from the undead monster grabbing her.

The skeleton was on top of her now, trying to strangle her.

Henry wasn't nearly unfeeling towards his wife's pleading, but his kicking did little to slow down the undead.

Though he broke a rib and induced some torturous shifting in the shoulder blade, the creature was simply impervious to pain.

He ran inside and came back with a scythe.

This particular design could be converted into a glaive by unlocking and turning the blade. But he did not have time to do that.

A well aimed swing with the harvesting tool shattered the monster's spine.

Its body split in two places, and the woman threw the top piece off.

He helped her up.

"Darling!" She embraced him. "What was that?"

"An undead creature Diane. It must be dark sorcery."

"But where did it come from?"

"I-"

"Watch out!"

There was another skeleton that had shambled into their farmstead. This one had picked up a large branch and heaved it over its head to cave Henry's skull in.

They separated to evade the crude attack, and Diane walked backwards into the skeletal upper body, which was still active and grasping at her feet.

As she started kicking Henry swung at the new attacker, but only managed to clash weapons, losing grip on his own.

He turned around, grabbed her wife's hand, and dragged her away.

She looked up. "What are you doing? Won't you-" She stopped complained when she saw behind her.

It wasn't one skeleton he was running away from, but dozens.

The road leading up to their humble farmstead was filled with an undead horde.

As they overran the building they ripped out planks and tore open animal burrows, all in the single-minded pursuit of death.

"Henry... they're coming from the direction of the fortress..."

Some of the lighter equipped skeletons began to sprint after them in a flailing clownish manner.

"Run, Diane, into the field!"

-

They couldn't have picked a worse place to hide.

The tall stalks of corn swallowed them, until neither could see anything but the greenish brown of the crop.

They were quickly separated.

The undead were unburdened by any dependency on sight. They trampled the plant life in an unbroken line straight towards their target. Drawn with unthinking inevitability towards the life in their beating hearts.

Diane spun around disoriented in the tall grass when a hand sudden clasped her shoulder.

"Diane!"

It was Henry.

"Don't go losing me again."

There was a loud rustle of skeletons approaching and they ran the other way.

Suddenly their attackers turned around and left.

There was the sound of dogs barking and steel clattering.

And they heard the voices of young men.

-

"Yeah! Drag them out! Clean it up. It's like cleaning guys!"

"There's still someone in there!"

"Maybe burn it, get all of 'em."

The more they spoke the clearer it became these were young soldiers or adventurers.

And now they were discussing burning down the field just to get rid of the skeletons.

"Stop!" Henry suddenly yelled. "Stop! No, we're in here!"

Diane grasped his chest.

"It's the king's men, Diane. I knew they'd come through for us." He began waving his arm above the stalks and pulled her along back. "Hello! Hi! I am the appointed farmer! Can y-"

Exiting the field didn't find a garrison of shiny royal knights waiting for them, but an eclectic variety of humanoid goblin creatures.

The subhumans formed a half-circle around where them.

Two of them were relatively tall, though not fully man-sized, and were dressed not wholly dissimilar to young men from a farm going adventuring for the first time. They had reasonably padded peasant tunics and simple weapons. But bright orange faces with little horns on their foreheads.

Several were smaller, green, and dressed in furs and bones.

And yet others were small but sealed tightly into rusty steel armor.

Three warg wolves were pacing menacingly behind them.

"Henry!" Diane yelled out in shock.

"So we kill them, right?" One of the goblins asked.

"No, we don't kill anyone unless they're being aggressive." The taller hobgoblin said.

All around them were the bones of the undead.

They had shattered, crushed, and bound the lot, and there were yet others in their army chasing down the rest of the horde in and around the farm.

"What do you want from us!?" Henry shielded his wife with his body, "get away from us!"

"Yeah, now we kill them." The little goblin said, drawing his weapon.

"Nobody is being aggressive. Go help the others." The hobgoblin send him away and then extended his open hand to the couple. "My name is Felix, this is my brother Jasper. We're here to help."

Jasper gave a small nervous wave. Unlike Felix his weapons were attached to his wrists, they were menacing claws that would get in the way of a handshake.

Henry put out his own hand, a bit unsure, and Felix firmly grasped it. Then he shook it up and down in a powerful robotic motion. It was the first time he had performed the gesture with a stranger.

"What do you mean?" Diane asked accusingly from behind her husband, "who have you come here to help?"

"Well... uh... you. I mean not you specifically, but..." The hobgoblin stammered over his words a bit.

His brother suddenly stepped forwards, making the two flinch. But he looked right past them and into the field.

"So... we saw there's a lot of monsters coming this way. And we knew there were people living here. So... yeah." Felix shrugged.

A skeleton burst out of the greenery, but Jasper was there anticipating it. "Heal!" He placed his open palm on the skull's face.

The head turn slightly pink for a bit and then sunk down. Whatever force animating it dissipated and it crumbled.

"My heal is a weapon!" He beamed.

"Do you have any food?" Felix asked the couple.

Henry's jaw clenched. "We don't have anything to repay you. The army of the proving has taken it all, that's the honest truth. Whatever you take from this farm, leave my wife and me-"

"You want any?"

"Huh?"

Felix pointed at the cart at the end of the road. "Papa Scratch said they might've raided you, so we brought food. Not enough to last all winter, but still..."

"Goodness, you boys are blessed! Heroes!" Diane sung.

"Diane, these are the enemies of our lord."

"Oh forget that, what has your lord done for us. Huh? Nothing but taken from us. These subhu- excuse me boys- these fine gentlemen have done what a true noble would have done."

"How did you know they would come here?" Henry asked them.

"We looked for places people might live. They're coming all over." Jasper said, "spreading out from there somewhere." He pointed in the direction of the new fortress.

"I knew it Henry, death comes from the west, salvation from the east. Goodness! You boys must help the farmstead three leagues south of here!

That's where Moira and her husband live, she's got three kids."

"There's one to the south?" Felix kneeled next to one of the warg wolves and whispered in its ear. It barked in confirmation and ran off with its two mates. "We better get going if we want to catch up. Can you tell the kids to come after us after they finish unloading?"

Diane looked down at the wild green things. They did look remarkably like human children. They carried themselves that way as well.

As they left Jasper reached out for her upper arm. He had that claw weapon, but she didn't pull back, and he was able to heal her bruise from the struggle.

"Why are you doing this?" Henry asked.

"Good neighbours." The hobgoblin smiled. "We're just being good neighbours."

"Right, I forgot to say the line. We're just being good neighbours!" Felix yelled out over his shoulder.

"Ah! Be nice." Will expelled some air through his teeth as the elf girl refreshed the bandages.

"Gentle healers make for stinking wounds," she whispered, as she tied it fast onto his leg wound.

Their bodies were close together like that and for a brief moment her nose almost touched his. Then she pulled away in a huff.

"Thou must be disappointed not be upon the warpath with thine comrades." She said, turning away to wash her hands.

"Oh... kind of. It's not really war, you know. The humans aren't attacking us because there's a lot of skeletons everywhere, both sides are just kinda stuck cleaning them up. So there's no war."

She paused. "I do not understand. The skeletal horde, it was summoned by your kind, was it not? Is the magic of necromancy so crude that they can not be made to march upon thine enemies?"

"Uh... Not really. They're summoned by a friend of Papa. And Papa says if we control them that would escalate the conflict. You see," he leaned in with a knowing expression, "escalating is bad when the enemy is stronger than you. If they're strong you want to de-escalate into peace."

She gave a sad smile, "the races of good desire peace regardless."

"Oh yeah?" He looked a bit skeptical, as far as he knew elves and humans would rather be killed by goblins that live peacefully with them.

Liorin put her hands on her hips. "But thou cannot believe that showering the land in death shall bring peace."

"A common enemy."

"Pardon?"

"A common enemy," Will repeated. "That's what the skeletons are. Scratch asked his friend to make his monsters in the middle of the rolling hills, between the fortress and the forest. That way it doesn't look like we created them, and if we're fighting them, it doesn't look like we're using them either."

"A deception! A false enemy."

He nodded enthusiastically. "Isn't it clever! And the creature says that the knights must be friends with the farm people for their boss, so if we protect the farm people they're not allowed to attack us anymore."

"I should have known!" Far from impressed Liorin was horrified, "I allowed myself to forget, but I should have known. That you'd stoop so low, endangering common people in order to proclaim yourself their saviors..."

"But..." he pouted, "if it's for peace..."

The expression left her face. She did not have much room to argue after what she'd just said. "Well... if it is for peace."

-

After a minor cleaning detail Will's treatment was complete.

He rubbed his leg. The cut was too deep for healing magic to reach all the way inside, but the bandaging helped secure natural healing. It felt safe having the bandage on, there was a security that his limb would return to normal.

"What about you?" He asked absentmindedly, "are you sad you aren't with your friends."

On hearing that Liorin curled up in an indignant little ball. "No. They have come to despise me."

"What? No."

"Yes. They consider me tainted because I indulge thee. Even though it is all for their benefit."

Searching for a way to understand that rejection, Will imagined his own siblings turning away from him. There had been some minor spats growing up, but he wasn't able to properly imagine what she was experiencing. "...But are the trolls nice? Are you friends with the trolls?"

"Of course I am not!!" She yelled at him.

He threw up his hands in surrender.

An awkward silence followed. Liorin slightly uncurling to fidget with her toes, and Will just looking.

He then hesitantly scooted over to her and put his arms around her.

She didn't stop him.

"It's really Farith." She said, "she is our most senior. Our pride is so important to her... She has always demanded I keep my distance and when I wouldn't-" she looked up to force her tears back, "it's all to protect the others- when I wouldn't she has told them to shun me."

"Do you hate Farith?" Will asked.

"Well it's not fair! It's because of me that one has a true house to live in now! One uses it as well! Nobody is more in the tree garden than Farith, but she's never thanked me for it. And... it is not so that I am actually bedding you."

"No we haven't had sex yet."

"Yet?"

"Uhm..."

She pulled his arms off of her and stood up. "I have ministrated here for an exchange with the brood knight. After this we may have an outing in the sunlight, which is of such importance to Pecorath. Though it is shameful, I will not be made to feel shame. I have done good," she looked at him with wet eyes, "I have done good have I not?"

Will was silent for a moment.

"You know..." he said, "when there's goblins picking on each other, we split them up in different groups. 'Cause it's always one boss egging on the others, and without a boss they aren't as mean anymore."

"Ugh, this is not like your childish bullying."

"No. But let's split you up during the outing, huh! If you're alone with your friends without Farith there, don't you think they'll be more friendly?"

She softened. "Can you do that?"

He quickly closed his legs to hide the mood she had put him in. "Yes! I'll ask mama. She'll definitely be for it."

"HARKNESS!!"

It wasn't usual for higher nobles to achieve martial prowess on standing with their rank in their lifetime, especially counts of more peaceful counties such as the Rhysian. But count Rhysian wielded some imposing magic for the sake of intimidation. Instead of landing his wyvern and dismounting, he jumped off and impacted the ground like a fiery meteor.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The knight captain remained unfazed. "A horde of the undead, mi-lord. We're blocking their advance towards Eston."

They were in the middle of a skeleton attack, but it could hardly be called a battle. The horde was a thin and constant trickle of monsters that did not bunch up and did not make formations. Rather than a clash of shield walls the fight was busywork for the knights, occupying each with a newly approaching attacker every few minutes. They were spread out over the region to prevent any from passing.

"Do you realize you've left the defense of my subjects to their mortal enemy?" The count shattered a skeleton with his mace so it would not intrude on the conversation.

"The candidates have been sent to protect the farmsteads. Staff from the adventurers' guild have been sent to find the source of this necromancy.

The goblins must have done s-"

"The goblins are protecting my flock better than you are Harkness! If you've send the candidates there to kill them I'll see to it that you're exiled!"

"Mi-lord! The extermination of the warrens is what we were tasked-"

"Your task was to protect the people! Any aspirant prioritizing their quarry above protecting lives is disqualified from the proving, make sure of it."

The captain nodded. He turned his back to the enemy and shouted at a squire, "take a letter. Now! We're sending a bird."

The count sighed, "how many candidates have died?" Softer this time.

"Only two, sire."

"Only two. It's no use getting mad at you, it was my own incompetence for putting you in charge. I will be flying there myself, make sure the letter arrives before me."

After he had mounted the wyvern again and left, Harkness threw his weapon down in frustration. He then punched an approaching skeleton with his bare fist. "*Damn* this. Damn it all!"

The lordlings were in no position to hear any message from any messenger.

The roads over which the post boy could ride to relay the written announcement was overrun by skeletons.

And they were spread out, immersed into various skirmishes with both undead and subhuman.

When the count arrived at the edge of the forest a peasant family was standing between a bleeding goblin and Rubelina Corintha, who had her longsword drawn.

"Corintha. You are brandishing a weapon at my subjects."

When she saw him she quickly curtsied. "Your lordship. These lowborn have harbored a monster, I-"

"You might find yourself stripped of your noble name as well Rubelina, if you do not drop the weapon this instant."

The longsword fell to the ground. "Count Rhysian!"

"It is no small matter to take up arms against the realm's people, woman."

He then turned to the farming family, who prostrated themselves before him.

"You would protect this creature?"

"Mi-lord," the father said, "this boy and his brothers have saved us from the undead. And to great threat to themselves as well, look, he is hurt! If we harbor him, it is only-"

"Nug is our friend!" The little daughter yelled out, "we promised his big brother we'd help him get better."

"Where there's one goblin, there will soon be a nest." Rubelina recited, "sire-"

"Silence!" He walked up to the goblin.

Nug was cowering with his eyes closed.

"When you return to your father, tell him that I want to meet him. Do you understand? Count Rhysian wants his audience."

"Papa Scratch?"

"That's right. Corintha!" He turned around to face her, "lead me to the others, I must give them my words."

-

Not all lordlings had stumbled upon farmsteads already saved.

Most had come across households where hobgoblins had already made themselves at home, and had to contend with a tenser situation.

Derrek Emberton had been boxed in by undead with a female hobgoblin named Ada, and the two had fought together.

Feylina Dieless had eradicated a cluster of hundreds by herself.

But nobody had turned their weapons against the peasantry, and once the safety of the region was ascertained the hobgoblins were allowed safe passage back to their forest, so the count could collect the proving candidates.

"The proving has ended. I wanted to tell you that you have fought valiantly, and that you have made your families proud..." his eyes pierced them one by one, "that's what I wanted to tell you. But as I see it the people of Eston have come to prefer the goblin menace over you."

"Hey, that's not...!"

"Yeah the army was supposed to handle logistics, they-"

"Silence! A group of adults, of your breeding no less, should know when to hold their tongues." He used fire magic to emphasize his words.

"Captain Harkness will be punished for his failures. But you... who among you has shown the qualities of a baron? Hhm? Who has won the hearts of the people?"

"It must be a trick." Rubelina said, "the goblins must have orchestrated it. To stop our army, to turn the people against us, to-"

"Do you know what I saw flying over here, Corintha?" The count asked, "do you know what the source of this undeath is?"

"Some sort of necromancer?"

"It is a bone spire. The guild staff will not be enough to suppress it, I have summoned my vassals. Including your mother."

"A... a bone-?"

"If the goblins had access to magic of that caliber, they would have send the horde directly to your doorstep. The fortress and the city would be overrun by the skeletal horde and after that... the rest of my county."

"Maybe they just didn't know how to use it... maybe-"

"How could they create a bone spire and not want to use it?" Emberton fell out, "whoever did this *wanted* to spread chaos. Some dark sorcerer... you know Eston has been without a witch protector for a while..."

"No more speculation," the count snapped, "these things will be investigated by the knighthood in due time. You, I'm sending to your families. Word on who has earned the title will follow."

He looked around.

"Where's Dieless?"

Feylina Dieless, legitimized heir to the Dieless house, had left her post.

She was not anywhere near where she was commanded to be.

Instead she was bounding through the air, propelling herself with bursts of wind magic, chasing an elusive prey through the treetops and underbrush of the goblin warrens.

Deep into the woods she caught up with her, and after a firm kick send her careening into a crooked tree.

She waited patiently for the enemy to scramble back to her feet. "That's quite far enough."

Before her stood the brood knight.

The bandit woman's hair was darker than it had been before, a hint of warg wolf shining through in her human form. "Rushing ahead of the army again, aren't you?"

"Taking the fight away from yours..." Feylina spoke cautiously as the two began to slowly circle each other.

"I don't know what pull you have outside the warrens- you must have some people somewhere- but they're pulling us out. So today is my last chance to do this."

"Do what? Kill me?"

"Yes!"

With gleeful abandon, the cat girl pounced.

Lydia's legs briefly transformed and she dashed out of the way of the attack. "It was an error of strategy to isolate ourselves," she said to herself, as she prepared to redirect the next few air sickles, "it is the strength of the pack that secures the success of the hunt."

"Oh yeah?" Dieless halted her succeeding blows to maneuver around her opponent and drive her towards an open glade, where the trees would not obstruct her.

"No. We are not hunting." The brood knight then declared. "In this situation. We are the prey. I had to lead her away from the others."

"Who are you talking to, are you talking to me? Stop it."

Dieless was distracted enough not to see the throwing knives coming and she had to block one with her bare hand, drawing blood. "Ah! Bitch!"

She rushed at her and forced her deeper into the glade, where she had the advantage.

The ground was uneven, and locked into a clash of weapons they stumbled into a brook ran dry. They tumbled up and over each other downhill for what felt like minutes, until Feylina Dieless ended up on top.

They were both caked in dirt, but through Feylina's coat of gray cracked a broad and shiny white bloodthirsty smile.

Above her was a black night's sky, no stars or moon could be seen, and that grin became the only light in Lydia's vision.

But it wasn't night.

It was hardly noon.

And when the lordling heaved up her claw for the coup the grace it disappeared into that blackness behind her.

"Ah! No!" She yelled out in pain and alarm.

And when next her hand came out of the black smoke it was a talon of blackness that went straight for her own throat.

She fell over backwards and began to flounder, it looked just as if she was strangling herself, how the black smoke was forcing her hand around her neck.

For a brief second it seemed as if she would escape, when she dug her nails into her own palm to force the hand away, but the rest of the black smoke rushed down and onto her body.

"Wait, no! NO!"

Soon she was invisible.

"The Ravenous Lich..." Lydia whispered.

"The pleasure is mine entirely," the blackness said, "though I do wish you would call me Ritter, as that is my name."

The smoke collected itself and rose up into a tall pillar, carrying Dieless' lifeless body with it, a cow skull and other skeletal features emerged from the darkness within, caging the body.

"You can count yourself lucky we stumbled on that fight when we did," Scratch said, standing next to the lich. He was dressed in his most expensive bespoke suit, with a cockatrice feather in his hat. "Although... I suppose luck had nothing to do with it." He looked at the raven familiar circling the sky above them.

-

After that abrupt end to the fight, they sat down to discuss things.

"Did she really go after you just to get the kill? Actually I believe it immediately." Scratch touched where Dieless had harmed him before. The woman had been a psychopath with superpowers, but the lich that had ended her so easily was even scarier."

"Dieless' body has become a vessel for elemental death," the animal skull rang, "it is a marvelously powerful body. I could convert it to a death knight for your dungeon."

"N-no thanks..." Scratch said, "better we return the body to her family. A gesture of good will."

"You still believe you can make peace with them."

Scratch tapped the side of his nose. "They only need to believe there is no cost to keeping us alive, and no benefit to having us destroyed. Simple economics will do the rest."

"This is a rivalry that goes back eons, it will remain to be seen if you can buy it off."

"Oh I don't agree with that, I think a memory can only go back a single lifetime, what do you think, honey?"

Lydia was shaken from her inner deliberations by the question. "The world of man dizzies me with its intrigue and complexity, the beasts of the earth shed blood only for survival and security, but the people of the towers shed blood for their fanciful thoughts and aspirations. What good can come off it?"

"Lyds?"

"Ugh." She clutched her head. "No... no that wasn't me."

"You have made a great sacrifice to fight without my power," Ritter said, "the curse of the werewolf is pernicious and ancient. Two souls fighting over one body... it can be a heavy burden."

"Lydia, I have been asked by the boss man to come broker the peace. Can you stay with Ritter and take the body to the Promise?"

"But... I should be there."

"Lydia, look at yourself. No."

She looked at her hand, it hadn't stopped twitching since they had started talking. Two minds were pulling it in different directions.

When they had first met he was a small savage creature, and she a civilized leader with a noble upbringing.

Now Scratch stood upright and well groomed, and she was disheveled and unkempt. The power of the wolf had given her combat ability, but it had stripped so much of her decorum, she could hardly control her own body.

He took her hand and rubbed it comfortingly. "Go home, Lyds. Wash up, get some rest. Let me do the talking, okay?"

She sniffed and nodded, feeling slightly humiliated.

"So you will avoid annihilation, Papa Scratch. That is all very well, but I must remind you that I have tasked you with the elimination of another enemy."

"Yeah, yeah. Defeat the fairy queen, I know."

"..."

He slapped his face. "No, it was finding the Liege. Sorry, I had my favors mixed up."

"This is no matter of small importance. A secret war has been fought over the wyrm shards since the shattering of the dark beast in ancient times. The second segment of monumental value to the true rulers of this world."

"Look, I have a plan," Scratch lied. "Getting the popo to lay off my back is just the set-up okay. I need some wiggle room in the legal sphere, that's all. And you really need to tell me what the second segment is."

There was a slight movement in the bull head, "broker this peace, and I will."

When captain Harkness had negotiated with the goblins it had been in a little war tent.

When guildmaster Linel had done so it had been out in the open sky.

Count Rhysian had invited them to dinner at one of the rural estates.

The peasants had had to prepare the feast themselves and had produced a freshly killed lamb, some foraged vegetables, and some of the flat bread the goblins had distributed.

The combined result was not at all dissimilar to what would be on the menu at the Promise.

Which disappointed Scratch, who had hoped that with an invitation by nobility would come luxury worthy of nobility.

The count looked at him over his nose. "Where is the... Brood Knight?"

"What a gross name. We don't call her that. Lydia is recuperating at home..." Scratch glanced at the captain.

Lydia's father had been offered a seat at the table, he stood behind the count as bodyguard.

"...on my orders."

"So you're in charge. What is it you want of me?" Count Rhysian asked over the table.

"Isn't that my line?" Scratch said with a bemused tone. "You invited me."

"You've been fighting our people for nearly on to two years now, creature. But today you've saved them. What is your goal?"

"Ho there, mister. Nobody has fought any of the families here while I was in charge, it's them lot coming over the hills that's been attacking us."

He pointed at captain Harkness with his fork.

The captain's face reddened. "You will address the count as-"

"Harkness." The count nearly spat at him.

"...Forgive me mi-lord. I spoke before my turn."

"Got him on a tight leash, I like that." Scratch smirked, infuriating the knight captain.

"You say that you can live in peace with the peasantry?"

"We have. For as long as I am in control of the Promise."

The count leaned in. "I catch your drift. You say it is in my interest to support your power over your people, is that it?"

Scratch mimicked Feylina Dieless' quasi-innocent look. "I don't know what your interests are... Count. My power at the Promise derives from my vision. Without me to guide them, the goblins would return to their baser survival strategies, as they did this spring."

The count mulled it over for a bit. "You asked my what I want of you, well here it is. I have invited you to ask you maintain the peace."

Scratch nodded. "I'm afraid I can't promise that."

"What!?" The captain leaned in angrily, and the count didn't stop him.

"I wish it were that easy..." Scratch sighed and leaned back dramatically, "if I could create peace simply by commanding it, I would. But there are elements within your domain that are set to destroy us."

"You are referring to the adventurers guild." The count said.

"I'm sure you've heard the church has given me an awful nickname."

"I do not have the power to decide the guild's quarry."

Scratch's eyebrows shot up. "You must have some pull. I mean you're in charge of everything."

"My place is merely in service of the duke of Dichtershire, who answers to the king himself... but I could extend the adventuring stay..." The count said gravely.

Scratch clasped his hands together. "Here is my proposal. I pay tithe to you. You were looking for a new baron? Pick me. That is my defacto position anyway. Then any attack on myself is treason against yourself and the king, and you can forbid it! Aren't I clever?"

The count did not raise an eyebrow against the proposition. He had seen it coming. "I had expected Lydia Harkness to demand such a thing, and even she is of inferior breeding. You are... an enemy of the gods as declared by the church."

Scratch showed his open palms. "We are all sinners. Benesant has damned me, but she has also resurrected me. I live now to atone for my past barbarity."

"..."

-

After the dinner Scratch took his distance to observe the men arguing.

He was smoking blue grass.

Your lies were quite intense. I could hardly hear anything else on this plane.

Did the fancy pants tell any?

Nothing material. What do you figure?

It is in their best interest now to pretend to accept my reqjest, but then use the institution to weaken us and then revoke it. I just want to have the official protection for now, we can cross that bridge when we get to it.

I don't think it's occurred to him.

If it hasn't it will. I've learned that this place doesn't actually have real feudalism. Men don't control a territory and swear fealty to a more powerful lord, they are given territory by their lord. It's an appointed post... middle management. I'm basically handing everything over to him, he would be crazy not to stab me in the back at some point.

...The Ravenous Lich has taken a tour of my dungeon. He has come right up to my core, which I didn't appreciate.

"Mhm."

As Cyclophan complained the argument between the count and the captain heated up, and the count punched him in the stomach. He then walked over the Scratch, who quickly tossed the cigarette over his shoulder.

"There will be no more attacks on your people. I can not make promises in the name of his majesty, but I will do my utmost best." With a sudden jerky movement he bowed deeply. "Thank you for protecting my people."

"Uh, yeah. You too." Scratch tried bowing back. I await your next move. He thought.

Bone Spire

Family: Construct

Threat Level: A

Reward: 50,000 gold pieces

Bone spires are creations of pure necromancy. They resemble man-made buildings constructed out of bone and fossilized sinews, but their true makeup is magical.

Their function lies in the propagation of necromantic energies, which spread through the air and water, poisoning all life and raising undead from the soil. Far from blunt weapons, they are imbued with evil purpose by their creator, and these undead will march upon any target the master of the spire commands.

When an adventurer challenges a bone spire, it will turn its hordes upon them. Therefore, any adventurer that sets out against a bone spire must contend with a horde of thousands. Although skeletons themselves are ranked threat level F, the undead horde has the ability to overwhelm adventurers with sheer numbers, such that they are fighting a sea of bone, rather than a collection of individual monsters.

When the protective layer of undead is breached, the spire itself is not defenseless either, as it is able to sap the life of its attackers and summon boney protrusions from the ground. And as bone spires are constructed by dark sorcerers, they may be protected by other profane creations, such as curses and death knights. The spire can only be destroyed by removing the warped skull at its top.

-

Bone Spires can be found in the Haunted Canyon zone in the Yellow Wastes. They defend the long dead kingdoms of dark sorcerers, and must be removed to create habitable places.