Reaching forward, his two hands rested upon the finished timber of the loading dock doors, beginning where they closed as one, the Mage spread his hands to the extremities reaching as far as possible willing his magic into his spell. He lightly tapped the wooden exterior and satisfyingly no sound reached his ears. Success, he did like this spell, silence always useful when breaking in! Next he guessed low estimating where the cross beam rested, he didn’t need to be exact as he could search upwards utilising an extension from his fingers, a slim magical and pliable digit. Easily bending and thinning as required until between the two doors and then responding to his will, the magic digit setting rigid. He lifted the digit until he felt the resistance of the cross beam. He usually filled locks with the extension and then operated it as a key. Bracing his free hand around his ‘digit’ extension, not his actual finger, he eased the cross beam upwards, fortunately, although weighty he encountered no resistance. With a final lift the cross beam fell silently from the doors.

Turning around triumphantly, although breathless and red faced he mouthed the words. “You may enter now, can I…”

The leader jumped up, landing soundlessly beside the Mage upon the loading bay, his close presence oppressive. Ignoring the Mage’s sour face, he pushed against one of the doors, tentatively at first and then more confidently as the physical barrier to his conquest remained mute. Fading afternoon sunlight, further weakened by Death Season painted a narrow path into the shadow of the room to eventually join another feint light deep within. His eyes able to suffer the light, although retaining enough affinity for the dark to scan the entrance and beyond, repeating the surveillance several times. His hesitation noticeable and the Mage couldn’t comprehend why as the way lay open, one step further, crossing the threshold and he would enter. Shuffling and quiet whispers shared between his companions seemed to push him to a decision.

The next test, Judge’s curse, he slowly and deliberately raised his booted foot. The appendage stretched out tentatively and reached beyond the entranceway of the door while mid-air, landing confidently after. His second booted foot rapidly followed. He smartly pivoted around, a huge conquering smile across his face, his only true smile to date thought the Mage, convinced a smile of success not one about to enjoy a meal. The Mage’s hand reached out sheepishly, the gesture not lost.

“You have earnt your payment Mage.” The leader ripped a bronze loop from his left ear and ripped off a sliver ring from the middle finger on his right hand. Both decorated with fleshy bits and when thrown into the Mage’s outstretched hand, silent.

While disgusting, the Mage closed his fingers around his reward trying to maintain a stony face and force an appreciative half smile. The Mage climbed down from the loading dock, the unease he felt around the leader increasing to an almost unbearable intensity. He almost jumped from the loading dock, to escape sooner only coming to his senses at the edge, his old bones would probably break, and then what? Nodding and gesturing his goodbye, throat dry as a fear gripped him. His eyes widened. The leader’s skin drew tight and dry around his face even though snow fell on an overcast day, his human appearance in question as unrestrained evil radiated from him. Before the Mage could react, the oppressive evil snapped back and the Mage shook his head, did he imagine?

He scurried off, the leader’s evil a silent disdain chasing him, erupting into roaring laughter, the sound held in check by the Mage’s own spell. The Mage hastened around the corner of the building, the taste of evil and sense of unease fresh in his mind, not his imagination. Pushing himself off the side of the House he blindly dashed across the street, bolting past the Inn opposite and making for the Old Gate. Resting his back against one of the opened gates, he sucked in several deep breaths, exhaling a relieved chuckle. Finally, alone and away from the evil, able to relax. His task worth the risk now he lived to appreciate the reward.

---

The leader signalled for his companions to follow him in through the single open door. The remaining light before dusk revealing an assortment of boxed goods and chattels of little interest to him and his companions. The joined light path led to a smaller door towards the back of the Storage Room. Listening at the door first, the leader then turned its handle and slowly prised it open.

Light from the next room streamed into the Storage Room through the small gap between door and door jam. Still no sound. He continued to open the door. The room beyond, warm, empty and silent. The source of the warmth quickly identified as heat radiated from a large stove and oven, a couple of boiling pots of water on top, therefore the occupants would return. Humans needed to eat, and preparations would need to begin beyond boiling water, if not now, then soon, yet the room strangely empty.

He paused before entering trying to contact his Master. The removal of a couple Items from his body helped, releasing more of his natural talents, although long moments passed exhausting him somewhat, before his Master, to his relief eventually awakened from hibernation. Once the greater skill and strength of his Master responded he dropped his attempt and waited. Regardless, the sunlight streaming into the Storage Room now teased and seared his skin adding to the urgency to advance and find comfort inside this building.

“I am in their house Master, but the Kitchen is empty, although the oven is warm.”

“Proceed, they’re human you are much more. You need to find the way down, it is directly under their building, destroy any who try to stop you my patience and amusement are at an end.”

“Yes Master.”

Three other doors opened into the Kitchen, therefore he volunteered one of his companions to hold a door each. One remaining at the current door and another to peer up a set of rising circular stairs, presumably leading to a second floor. The room entrances guarded and watched he high stepped and pranced across the floor searching. Settling on a section he crouched down and drew back his fist, launching a flesh sledgehammer at the floor unleashing his might backed by his body weight transferred through his shoulder, wanting to cleanly smash through the floor.

The bones in his hand, likely as not, all shattered, the wooden floor held, now painted with a splash of his blood and the overall noise of the contest subdued by his now spongy flesh. He didn’t notice, multiple nerve endings stabbing his shattered hand internally and externally forcing him to clench his jaw shut, a sharp reminder of human fragility. He instinctively held his broken fist in his other hand and with determination resisted the urge to howl in pain!

Resting his broken hand in his lap, his good hand searched for and ripped out each and every Item which remained in his flesh. Each find flung across the accursed room to pile up silently in a dark corner. His pain fading at each removal as his true nature reasserted itself. He looked down with satisfaction at his hand, bones forming and joining, ligaments and muscle encasing bone, white-pink skin the final covering, the healing complete. Each ripping wound caused by the vicious removal of an Item also healed without scarring. His companions soon caressed by the wave of evil which emanated from him. His presence fully revealed and controlled, an extension of his Master’s power and therefore soothing and inclusive, an evil to be celebrated and they rejoiced, buoyed by this evil blessing. Being hidden among the lessor flesh bags required him and them to suppress much of their natural or unnatural urges. They hailed his return from hiding and gladly accepted his invitation to fully join with him.

Looking to him, their eyes pleading, his response absolute. They would return to their hidden lives, after, and therefore forbidden to remove their Items. They grew envious knowing he would be at the Master’s side shortly and presumably stay there.

Satisfied, he began a detailed search of floor, there needed to be a trapdoor of some sort given its strength. Starting his search in the wrong corner time passed and his companions waited undisturbed. He lifted the trapdoor, his face twisted in anger attempting to rip the frustrating find from its hinges. The door resisted his inhuman strength and thwarted once again he needed to suppress his urge to bellow out in frustration.

With the trapdoor opened he called to his companions to follow. He reached the bottom of the stairwell and the floor of the Top Cavern in quick time by leaping down into the grey lit dark, confident any injury from such a height would be healed. He chuckled to himself as he realised, in his true undeath form he wouldn’t even suffer an injury, an embarrassing stumble perhaps, nothing more! Rising to his feet he sprinted down the only passageway, determined to be the first to rescue his Master; the others to follow as and when they could! His Master caressed his consciousness, urging him on, he returned a satisfied acknowledgement, soon Master, I will be by your side soon!

He slowed for a cavern opening, the brief glance finding no one in the cavern beyond, therefore he raced on. The tunnel curved into another cavern. He stood, his breathing calm, because the function unnecessary for his continued existence regardless of his recent exertion. No exits. His Master absolute and certain the passageway continuous from the Town down through the plateau to the base of the Cleft. He considered contacting his Master, the effort in the attempt though dissuading him. Certainly, his Master would grow impatient and contact him. His companions, perhaps he should wait for their expertise and opinion. He searched the cavern for hidden doorways or triggers to no avail.

No companions, no contact from his Master. He tracked his way back up the passageway and discovered the tunnel now blocked with a wall. How could that happen in such a short time? He examined the stone, no sliding or swinging door, a natural extension of the wall. He hit the stone blockage with all his strength. His hand healing from the damage as he thought. Without another choice he contacted his Master, exerting himself to do so while his anger grew and festered, staring at a perfectly smooth stone wall blocking his way back to his companions and his own escape.

---

The five companions as one heard the call of their leader to follow, they also basked in the rapture of his evil caressing them, encouraging them to pursue, to enjoy the chase with him and the promised celebration. Freed from their last task, releasing the door handles of the doors in front of them, or the handrail for one of them, they turned as one toward the trapdoor. Their imaginations overflowing, dreaming of the rewards certain to be theirs when they saved the Master.

Their singular moment of evil joy shattered. The Storage Room door opening as the shadow of the guard receded, the flood of lanterns and torches in the Kitchen and Training Room serving their purpose well. With Lysisa’s assistance Alcmene gently lowered a male companion to the floor with his throat cut. The strangled half warning from a companion opposite, relinquishing guard duty at the circular stairs too late, although urgent enough to release the other three companions from their fixation upon the trap door.

Lysisa challenged the remaining four, flanked by Alcmene, bloodied dagger still drawn and Zoe brandishing dual daggers.

The four sensed their loss, the evil which summoned them to follow their leader also joined them to their common cause as never before. Swivelling around, the three unsighted companions soon located the bloody corpse of their companion and rushed with the fourth, from the circular stairs to confront and take vengeance upon their dead companion’s attackers wielding their daggers high. Both groups sizing each other up before contact, Lysisa’s reach with her spear causing them to pause, feinting to strike any who tried to glance away. The temptation of the trapdoor almost irresistible and likely fatal if seduced. Instead as one, they stepped backwards towards the trapdoor, the promise of safety, freedom and reward beckoning.

Zosime, Hagne, Alexis and Korinna waited on the second floor. Their mission depended upon the actions of the companions and also guided by Alcmene’s observations. Their main objective to make sure none of the attackers escaped. The primary way to ensure this, to close the trapdoor once they descended, tying down the door using the floor rings. No plan formulated though for the unlikely event their leader revealed his evil and abandoned his companions!

When the leader revealed himself, his evil washed over the sisters within the House, stricken with the unnatural fear they barely maintained their self-control. The fear now familiar, testing themselves in the Main Cavern while on shift or as duties allowed in front of the stone tomb. This is why, although affected, they named it false within their minds and struggled successfully against the urge to panic. Lysisa fortunately busy with another task outside the House and unaffected.

When the leader dropped down the trapdoor his fear withdrew with him and they collected themselves. The shadow receding from underneath the Storage Room, originally a signal for Alcmene to contact Zosime so they could climb down the circular stairs and secure the trapdoor. Instead Alcmene and Zoe rallied, shortly after joined by Lysisa. She asked Zoe to carefully open the door to allow Alcmene the opportunity to slay one of the companions with Lysisa on hand to help lower the body quietly.

With the four remaining companions concentrating on Lysisa in particular and escape through the trapdoor, Alcmene ordered Zosime and the sisters with her to stealth and perhaps, just perhaps the four former assassins could recall their past skills and deliver a coup de grace. Zosime led her sisters Alexis, Korinna and Hagne down the circular stairwell, their mission changed due to circumstance. Four targets, distracted, backs exposed presented themselves. The four Assassin Sisters formed a Seer Circle to minutely co-ordinate their silent assault.

Like synchronised dolls each sister whipped a garotte around their target’s throat, crossing the held ends and pulling taunt. Instinctively their victims’ hands reached for the wire or the person. While distracted Lysisa proved herself, neatly stabbing each in turn through the heart, quickly and precisely. The final male proving troublesome, requiring Hagne to slow him down with dagger thrusts to his thigh. Astera certain none would betray their evil Master and any who did would soon double cross them, therefore death the sole option.

Zoe quickly secured the trapdoor, using leather cord as planned. Once secured Alcmene contacted Niobe. The connection lost for a moment.

“The leader passed by the Sixth Cavern and although exposed to evil in the Main Cavern, it still gripped me, sorry sister,” sent Niobe.

“All is well. At least you know when he is far away! Now set the Goblin Sisters to work and block off the return as all his companions are now dead, so there is no need to wait for them to follow him.”

“How?” As she signalled to her Goblin Sisters to hurry!

“He abandoned them in his haste we think, and our new sister assisted admirably.”

Once done Lysisa dragged in the body of the Mage from the Storage Room, having been left behind by Alcmene and Zoe to carry the corpse from the Old Gate to the House prior, as both sisters hurried on to follow the trespassers and be in position for the plan. Zoe’s arrow still transfixing his throat. Zoe lent down, retrieving the bloodied arrow by pulling the shaft through. Then she used the Mage’s robes to wipe the arrow clean, or at least cleaner and use as a neck wrap to prevent further blood spill.

“While we wait, we need to clean up, the boiling water is at least ready,” said Alcmene.

Lysisa raised her hand, while staring at Zosime, although directing her question to Alcmene.

“How is such co-ordination possible? How did the four with garottes know the exact moment to strike, any earlier and the attackers wouldn’t have been distracted, later and perhaps they would have closed the distance to the trapdoor. Finally, they struck in unison. I could possibly think of two, using hand signals, never four with no co-ordination at all.”

“Observation is always an important skill,” replied Alcmene, her eyes kind.

“The wall is secure sisters. The leader is trapped,” sent Niobe.

“We have a little more work to do first. Zoe untie the trapdoor. We need to deposit these bodies into the Top Cavern before they ooze more blood over our floor. We need to eat in here, after all.”

Lysisa’s eyes darted from Alcmene to Zoe and back. “The leader could return sister, what of the leader.”

Alcmene placed a hand on each of Lysisa’s cheeks. “Do you trust me? Do you trust us?”

“Ye … Yes, you have saved me from death and yet your actions here I don’t understand.”

“I can’t explain yet, you will need to trust and have faith, alright?”

Lysisa nodded while in Alcmene’s hands and Alcmene kissed her forehead in acknowledgement. While she realised to the victor go the spoils Lysisa questioned the actions of her new sisters, ripping small pieces of worthless jewellery from the slain before throwing them down the trapdoor. She restrained herself from asking and got to work scrubbing the Kitchen and Training Room floor. The blood cleaned off easily much to her surprise, the wood seemingly rejecting the blood, resisting any attempts to soak in.

The Assassin Sisters palmed the Items or blocked Lysisa’s line of sight with their bodies, while securing the Items in a leather pouch and secreting it within Alcmene’s robes.

---

The leader rushed between the “walls” in desperation confirming both made of stone and deciding unnaturally smooth. A deliberate trap then, which meant they expected him. How did these women know of his arrival?

“Why do you delay?”

“Master I am trapped in a cavern. I don’t see an escape?” stated the leader.

His Master broke contact disgusted with his failure. He then contacted the other.

“Master I am trapped in a small stone coffin I think, sealed solid, even in gaseous form I cannot find a way out and I have struck at the walls until my hands have become bloodied.”

He heard the lamentation in her voice, the surrender.

“Why are you trapped and not waiting for my signal, him first to distract and then you to sneak my release, working together!” His anger boiling over, manifesting across their link burning her soulless existence, the pain excoriating.

“Master … pleaseee …”

He withdrew his anger, not from mercy, purely a selfish reason, to conserve of his power.

“Thank-you Master, I live to serve, always. Wolves attacked after dawn, I could only think to direct my coffin and thralls to you …”

Once again disgusted, he broke off contact.

The Master growled to himself. Surrounded by the useless, only one more chance of rescue remained. Fortunately, a good chance, where stealth failed hopefully brute force would succeed.

---

The Dark Priest squatted upon his wooden transport, now able to count the number of his much-depleted hoard of walking dead. He didn’t think the number would be enough, he would need to raise more. How to tell his Master? A Master now furious and very aggravated by other failures. Those who held him, mere humans, able to defeat his other servants called to rescue him.

“Priest report!”

“Master I will need to return to the battlefields to reap and raise more Walking Dead. The number I have won’t be enough.”

Their shared link shimmered with rage and frustration. The Dark Priest flung down, his body prone and heavy upon the wooden wall, his walking dead straining to hold him aloft and continue forward.

The Dark Priest whispered in his mind’s eye. “Two weeks to return to you. I am certain of your release then. I beg you Master release me.”

While the Master wished to teach this servant a lesson, he needed to be mindful. The Dark Priest represented his last chance for rescue.

The Master released his rage and the Dark Priest rolled to one side coughing for breath, eventually resuming his favoured position. His first thought, so unfortunate the battlefield outside the Cavern became exhausted. Exerting his will, he ordered the walking dead to about face and once done march back the way they travelled.

“All because of one servant’s personal vengeance.” His Master mused over their blood link. “I start to hunger already in another two weeks I will need to satisfy a strong urge to feed. You understand servant?”

“Yes Master, I will not fail you.”

Instantly his Master cut their link. The Dark Priest considered his Master’s threat. If he cannot escape now without help, what makes him think he can escape latter? Is it time to seek a new Master? Perhaps the next two weeks will reveal an answer to the question. One certain thought sprang to his mind, he wouldn’t place himself at risk; he would lead the walking dead horde from the rear and hold his personally raised walking dead close to him!

---

Clymene stood beside Astera in the Inner Cavern, Thyia close by.

“Alcmene reports five companions dead Mistress and Niobe reports their leader trapped in the Fifth Cavern.”

“Somehow we need to destroy their leader or if he falls easily capture him like the other. Night is their favoured time of battle, so we will await the dawn and if necessary, use sunlight if we need to corral him into a stone coffin or perhaps place him upon a pyre.”

“Yes Mistress, I will spread the word, movement between the Sixth and Water Cavern will need to use the hidden passageways as the Fifth Cavern holds a prisoner.”

“Time to return to the House and determine if our new recruit should be invited to stay.”

Clymene, Ismene and Thyia escorted Astera to the Water Cavern and after contacting Niobe they exited the Water Cavern by the hidden door. Climbing the steep Goblin Stairs, they reached the exit to the Sixth Cavern to discover the stiff corpses of the companions and their Mage unceremoniously stacked against a Top Cavern wall, away from the urchins bedrolls and in a blind behind the stairs to the trapdoor to avoid any trips or scares. Astera sighed, they would need to deal with the dead in the morning. Astera hurried up the stairs, one more duty and then sleep.

“Lysisa waits in the Meeting Room Mistress,” said Alcmene.

Astera considered bathing and a change of clothes, dismissing the idea, best their new recruit is introduced early on to the messy side of being a Daughter of the Duchess.

“Do you require a second Mistress?”

Astera snapped out of her thoughts, presenting Alcmene with a blank look.

Zoe chuckled. “She wishes to make an acquaintance with the new recruit Mistress, ignore her. I am sure Thyia will be more than enough to protect you from this dangerous recruit.”

Alcmene pouted. “You are mean when you abstain, you know that, don’t you?”

Astera waved her hands in a downward calming motion, “Enough, Zoe has good reason and each to her own.”

“Sorry Zoe. Sorry Mistress. She remembers you Mistress from weeks ago and well, Zoe and I rescued her, and Zoe isn’t interested …”

“What makes you think she is interested?”

“Well I don’t but I don’t want to wait days before finding out, a couple of bells would do nicely.”

Clymene withdrew her hands from her face, striding to the Stove, Alcmene head bowed traipsing after her.

“I think one twin sister berated another twin sister using Seer talk,” said Zoe, nodding her head sagely while smirking.

Astera pushed open the door to the Meeting Room, striding through as if she ruled, Thyia following in her shadow as two lanterns in the room enabled the subterfuge.

Lysisa knew her. She rose, stumbling back, knocking her chair over. The otherwise noisy indiscretion dampened by the multiple layers of fur covering the floor. Nevertheless, she reached down and restored her chair to rest underneath the table. Conscious of her eyes upon her, she fiddled with her hands until settling them on the back rest of the chair. Her position resolved her eyes then searched. Oh Saph, how long did she dally?

Astera patiently observed their new Novice, the once proud and tall Temple of Saph Guard. Her nervousness, her uncertainty to be … Astera caught herself, where did this pre-judgement emanate from? By all accounts Lysisa acquitted herself, followed instruction and executed exactly. Catching Lysisa’s hands settling on the backrest of the chair, Astera shook her head slightly, and determinedly plastered a welcoming smile across her face as their eyes met.

“Mistress, I know I refused your offer once – I now know a mistake … my loyalty ill placed, and I plead to be forgiven. My efforts to prove to you, of my absolute devotion will be unrelenting, every moment of every day, I swear.” Lysisa flung herself at Astera’s feet.

“Are you prepared to state your oath, do you know what is required?”

Lysisa’s head rose, her eyes scanning up Astera’s armoured body, admiring the craftsmanship and the shapely athletic body encased within. Her lingering eyes guilt ridden when they met the Mistress’ large brown eyes, not confirming or even hinting their owners’ appreciation or rejection. Lysisa involuntarily gulped.

“If you would accept our invitation this time to join the Daughters of the Duchess stand and remove all your clothes, shed your past and embrace your future, swear your oath of loyalty to me and your Warrior Sisters,” said Astera, her voice steady and firm.

Lysisa stood, her muscular legs smoothly exerting themselves in her service, a slight shake in her hands betraying inner turmoil, which her mind eventually quelled. Years of stares from her Mother Superior preparing her well. She reached for each piece of her makeshift armour, her hesitation to remove the protection not due to the consequence; eventual nakedness. Her armour declared her a warrior again, recognition of her worth, since no longer a Seer and no longer required by the Temple where she spent most of her life obeying and faithfully serving. The most difficult now done, casting off her clothes mechanical, in a barracks of men, her sex granted her no special privilege. The temptation for some of her fellow guards eventually leading to a certain familiarity, at which point her residency improved. Once naked she bowed her head.

A warm rapid breath fanned Astera’s neck critically evading the protection of her breastplate. Astera knew Thyia closed in behind her. An appreciation of the ripped martial body on display before them.

“I swear to serve Astera as my Mistress and bind my life to hers. I swear to be loyal to her and my Warrior Sisters until my death. I swear to keep this oath and never break it under pain of death.”

Astera placed a hand on each of Lysisa’s naked light skinned shoulders, locking her steely green eyes.

“Please take a knee.”

Lysisa kept her spine straight, core muscles at work as she lowered herself to one knee.

“I accept your fealty to me, and I promise in return to value your life and protect it as much as possible to the limits of my power and ability. Further I will never ask you to do anything that would dishonour you or me. Rise Novice Sister, a Daughter of the Duchess.”

Lysisa sprang into Astera, her Mistress just able to brace and receive her naked embrace.

“Mistress I will prove to you every day my worth, I will not shirk, I will slay our enemies or die trying, this I promise.” The arms about Astera squeezed, releasing when Thyia draped a Daughter’s Cloak about the naked shoulders of the Novice, needing hands to wrap herself fully and fly away twirling in celebration.

“Thank-you, thank-you Mistress!”

“We will take our leave, allow you to dress …” said Astera, not sure if Lysisa truly registered the words as she raced about the room, trying to make the cloak ends fly behind her.

---

Alcmene peered beyond Astera and Thyia, her smile fading. “She accepted Mistress. She didn’t run, did she?”

Zoe tsked tsked. “Your desperation is unusual, and may I say unworthy of an esteemed and respected Seer such as yourself Sister.”

Alcmene retorted, “Secret Seer business, a new partner may further improve Seer Skill.”

Nysa, Kyra, Otonia, Hagne and Zosime climbed down the Circular Stairs, dropping into the unusual conversation as they prepared to eat before commencing their Night Shift.

Hagne veered away from her shift sisters, making a bee line for the Meeting Room. Alcmene’s jaw dropped, recovering enough to place her hands on her hips, still speechless, then eyes wide, suspecting a certain Seer Twin of conspiracy.

---

Hagne appreciated Alcmene’s infatuation once she witnessed the Novice Sister in full flight, the fluttering Duchess Cloak revealing a great deal more than concealing.

Lysisa paused assessing the new visitor, her lip piercing drawing her attention at first, sharp cheekbones and wide nose completing the picture. Her visitor touched her own face. Lysisa’s stomach sunk to her knees and her shoulders buckled as her hands flung themselves at her face.

“How extensive?” The voice of the visitor hushed, sympathetic, perhaps encouraging her to reveal.

Her hands lowered enough for her steely green eyes to peek over; her words slightly grabbled. “Almost the entire left-hand side of my face, with a run down my neck.” Lysisa shuddered after the confession. The men in the barracks always made allowances, although always encouraging her to apply her face paint.

“I am Hagne and while not a proficient as Korinna, I am certain I can improve on the crude attempt currently revealed.”

Her welling up of tears ceased. This visitor, she said her name, yes, Hagne she criticized her efforts! How dare she. A kindly venerable Mother Superior paid her special attention and her … Seer Twin helped of course. Tears sprang for a different reason, her hands rubbing at her face vigorously with total disregard for caution or pain in an effort to remove her pitiful disguise as the memory of her twin sister stung deep.

Hands clamped around hers. “Enough!”

Sharp hazel eyes met steely green eyes in a stand-off. The first to blink the loser. The opening of the Meeting Room door breaking the contest.

“You need to eat now sister or starve …” Zosime’s gaze momentarily held by the half wine stained face of their Novice Sister. “Until morning,” Zosime added noticeably later. Some sisters carried their scars openly, like Rhea and Nysa, others buried them deep, including herself.

“Yes, I would like to eat also.” Lysisa marched from the Meeting Room, chin up and out, Duchess Robe swirling about her nakedness.

+++

Sweetears smiled and nodded. The fear aura receded yet again; a pattern firmly established by their prisoner.

“Sisters – sisters, he retreats again. We begin.” Sweetears rolled the word around in her mouth, the second time confirmation her sisters, Nysa, Kyra and Zosime reacted no different when she called to them, except to prepare behind Sweetears, Prettynose and Bluefingers.

Sweetears curled the stone back from the left, Prettynose from the right and on her knees Bluefingers curled the stone down to the floor. A roughly round hole in the walled off tunnel adjacent to the Sixth Cavern Entrance opened up for the Judge Knight and her escort.

Nysa advanced cautiously stepping up and over the improvised door’s bottom lip; shield presented strongly with Kyra following at her shoulder. Once Zosime hopped over, her lantern issuing a low light to augment their night sight, the Goblin Sisters restored the wall quick smart.

Nysa scanned the passageway, the narrowness an advantage, regardless of the prisoner’s form, human, bat or cloud, the three known states their enemy could assume, none, able to pass unnoticed. With the passageway clear, the Entrance to the Fifth Cavern shortly presented, the blocking stone wall in the passageway naturally guiding anyone in, especially if in a hurry.

Immune to the evil, Nysa needed to reach out with her faith, like a pulse behind a wave of awareness trying to find evil. Nysa’s left shoulder pivoted on the left-hand side of the stone wall of the Entrance, her shield in a static position across her chest. One pace after the other, Nysa advanced into the Cavern. A pulse returned to her and she peered up, far left-hand side corner. Far to the back of the Cavern, in the highest corner the evil hung to a jagged stone outcrop. Her eyes betrayed her awareness, the bat flew down, keeping the distance of separation, while transforming into an old, dry skinned human, black beady eyes, scanning left and then right, gradually examining each of the three sisters, while remaining speechless.

The creature’s eyes sunk into twin orbs of black emptiness, his evil presence intensified, and to his dismay the three females before him didn’t flinch, their faces stony and determined instead. How did they resist? The one to the fore presented her shield, the seven-pointed star in the darkness nevertheless glowed bright and clear to him, stabbing his soulless heart with her faith. He needed to release his eyes from the display and with the Cavern Wall behind him he slammed his back against the stone, until reason grabbed him, and he flung his arm across his transfixed eyes. His mind confused for the moment trying to comprehend the meaning of this strange assault, never once subject to the Light of Judge in his evil existence. How could she exist, radiating her faith like a beacon…?

He blinked and snapped back to his bat form. The arrival of these three meant an opening in the passageway; escape. His bat form flying low and wide utilising the width and depth of the Cavern to avoid her hurtful shield and at haste he burst out of the Cavern and fled up the passageway, hope and then revenge, yes unknown, a surprise certainly, his next visit would be more prepared and cautious. His bat sonar detected them trailing further behind as he flew around the final switchback, plotting his revenge for this humiliation.

His sonar detected a solid formation before him. No! He transformed. His eyes focused in the darkness to see; his rough-skinned hands slid hopelessly across the cold stone. Moments passed in self-condemnation and then a gentle glow of light cleared a portion of the darkness. He concentrated and discerned their laboured breathing, their racing pulses. One more chance, he transformed into bat and dashed erratically towards them. Two shields mesmerized him. One far stronger than the other and somehow the hope of escaping the weaker betrayed him as he believed he could evade them. The narrowness of the passageway his doom. Caught in their faithful glow he fluttered back, retreated in ignominy until the stone prevented further cowardice.

The dagger tip bit through his wing and clanged against the stone falling to the ground. He inwardly laughed and then a fire of faith consumed the thin membranes of his wing until the thin bone frame remained. His mind froze from fear, the Light of Judge scorching and as a consequence his body spiralled downwards, his instinctive sonar informing him of the rapidly approaching stone floor of the passageway.

Smacking against the floor, his mind snapped out of his fear trance. Untangling his wing frame from his wing a searing pain sliced through his torso, his thought to transform into human freezing in an instant. The Light of Judge an agony, the weight of the dagger dropping his bat form onto his back, incapacitated. The torment absolute.

Nysa probed at the still bat with her boot, no reaction.

“Did my throw slay it?” asked Zosime.

“No, I think stunned. When ordained, I believe our weapons took on some special properties which affect this evil. Otonia’s knives the only weapons known previously to harm, perhaps slay them, these at least are able to injure them. My sword strikes wounding and effective enough to force the female evil into cloud form.”

“Our Goblin Sisters have arrived,” said Zosime, having previously advised Niobe of their conquest.

The hole in the stone wall enlarging as Nysa and Kyra looked up.

Zosime picked up the skewered evil by the dagger handle and leant against one side of the passageway. The Goblin Sisters skirted around Zosime, their backs scrapping the far side and then scurrying away. Nysa couldn’t blame them, their tolerance to the evil growing with practice although always from a position of separation and immunity.

“Will the dagger hold him in this state?” asked Zosime.

“I sense no strong evil, his presence yes, but small, cowered even,” said Nysa.

“If he wiggles, he will taste my second dagger.”

Zosime led, her steps cautious and careful, no tripping allowed. Nysa and Kyra stalked behind their swords drawn, shields ready. The passageway past the Fifth Cavern cleared due to Zosime’s slow pace and prudence.

Sweetears, Prettynose and Bluefingers waited beside another impromptu stone prison when Zosime appeared, entering the Main Cavern. Kyra shortly after picked up one reflective shield while Alexis from Day Shift picked up the other. The Goblin Sisters sealed three quarters of the entrance leaving enough of a gap for Zosime to place bat and dagger blade inside while the handle and her hand remained outside. They walled up the final portion except for a narrow slit. On a signal from Zosime, she drew the dagger back, the reinstated stonewall enough to catch the bat form. The body easily slid from the blade; the gap flooded with reflected sunlight. In one move each Goblin Sister contributed to seal the gap. The sisters exchanged relieved hugs of celebration, laughter escaping. The Goblin Sister laughter deeper although no less heartfelt.

“We leave now to do our Mistress’ bidding,” said Sweetears.

Nysa reached over and embraced her sister once more. “Thank-you Sister.”

The tips of Sweetears ears shone yellow and laughter broke out again, causing the tip of her nose to glow. Prettynose and Bluefingers grabbed a hand each and dragged Sweetears away to the Cavern Entrance. Nysa paused in wonder as they stepped out the width of the Entrance and began gouging out the stone floor. The Mistress must want the stream to flow across the Entrance to prevent any further intrusions or perhaps an easy escape.

---

Late in the day, restless, Astera found herself in the Main Cavern. Unexplained until a sister, a black-haired mountain woman strode through the Main Entrance, sunlight streaming behind her, silhouetting her lithe toned body encased in soft leather from neck to toe. Her head and shoulder length hair free as the hood of her cloak lay upon her back, the lower and upper limbs of her bow peaking above her shoulder and from behind her firm bottom. Astera held her position, providing herself observation time as Zoe made a beeline for her Mistress. Their Warrior Three bonding, yearning to be reunited.

“Mistress an advancing Walking Dead hoard a quarter day from us suddenly about faced and marched back over the path, they only moments before churned up. While not endless numbers, still significant, although the lead mobs carried burns and limped. Perhaps another has attacked them on their journey here?”

“Exceptional news! More time to prepare.” Astera lent forward, an eyes soft invitation, her heart rapidly beating.

Zoe closed the distance, an arm reaching out to Thyia urging her to join. Their embrace prolonged and lasting, Alexis acting the Dark Priest smiling fondly and supportively, the Seers unsure of Zoe’s abstinence, even excluding open displays of affectionate touch now seemingly resolved.

Fear unleashed upon the three, the suddenness startling although expunged due their collective loving embrace and Warrior Three bond. Astera acutely aware of their two prisoners, although with both the fear not more as in doubled. The second evil required several bells to recover from Zosime’s dagger and its presence perhaps triggered the female evil to join him improving the radius of their area under influence. Astera breathed in the evil, processing the wave of fear and the fact she could, her mind accepting the instructions to cower and instead placing them aside. Thyia and Zoe warming her heart as she did theirs.

The Evening Shift of Dirce, Drosis, Dione, Alcmene and Korinna marched into the Main Cavern, pausing for a moment and then plunging forward into the evil presence, their faces stern and determined. Curiously while Dirce and Drosis stood embraced, with Alcmene and Korinna behind, a hand each on their shoulders, Dione stood in front at a clear separation from her Warrior Three.

Astera shut her eyes and looked away from the Evening Shift, opening them to look up into the far depths of the Cavern, towards the back and roof. Lurking there squat an evil, unbelievably powerful, able to summon and mobilise forces against them from afar in an attempt to destroy them and free itself. Zoe’s news perhaps their single hope and the extra time gifted to them the difference between survival and destruction. At her command, Alexis spread the news; in moments every sister in the House would know. Now preparation needed to be completed in earnest, including the sorting out of the Warrior Threes.