The world above, as it turned out, was bright. Painfully so, for a trio of minions that were used to the poor light offered by the sorcerous candles of the lair. Badax squinted up at the sky, his eyes watering, but though it hurt, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of endless blue.

Urt, on the other hand, didn’t take to it so well. Clutching his eyes and screaming, the goblin fell on the grass and rolled back and forth, his skin changing colors like crazy.

“I don’t like it out here. Let’s go back,” he moaned.

Badax stepped in front of him, letting his large body cast a shadow over his friend. It probably wouldn’t do much, but the minotaur figured that every little bit might help.

There were no signs of fire, nor any smell of smoke that his sensitive nose could detect, yet ash whipped through the air all the same. Badax looked around and found the source: a dumpy man holding a glowing staff. Shit.

Had it not been for the fact that the wall mouths made one last announcement before Badax and his companions left the lair and made it clear that the killer was still right outside, there was no way he would have ever believed the person standing in front of him was the one who’d killed the Mistress. He was pale and pudgy, though his cheeks had taken on an angry reddish tint implying they didn’t much get on with the sun. His black hair was long and greasy, pulled into a ponytail that hung down to the center of his back, and there were a few prickly hairs above his upper lip.

Hardly a figure out of the legends.

His robes were black and purple, covered in a series of strange geometric patterns that Badax found nauseating to look at. All of his attention was focused on a cube of blue and green light floating above his hand, and Badax wondered if he should try and carry Urt away without attracting the man’s attention.

As if hearing the minotaur’s thought, the man’s eyes snapped up and he pointed the staff over at Badax. He sniggered.

“A minotaur, a goblin, and a pixie, huh? That’s kind of nifty. If there was a tavern anywhere nearby I’d think that I’d gotten banished into a joke dimension. Let me guess, though, you’re here for vengeance, right?”

***

Perrin Appraised the trio of minions standing before him, keeping his hand ready on the staff in case any of them tried to attack. They hadn’t done anything suspicious yet, but if his experience with the other monsters so far were any indication, they’d do so soon.

The first creature he examined was the minotaur.

Class: Mini Boss

Class: Bard

Race: Minotuar

Xlevel: 33

Strength: 198

Speed: 33

Int: 33

Dex: 33

Spirit: 33

The stats weren’t anything special, but Perrin was surprised to see a creature of almost pure strength with Bard, a class that tended toward Int, Dex, and Spirit. There was definitely a story there. Looking at the shattered fragments of a guitar in the minotaur’s hand, the Warlock bit back a smile. Not an easy path ahead for that one. But what an exciting journey it would be! He wondered what sort of tales the creature would record – or create, for that matter – and wished that he had the time to interview the trio properly. Alas, his experiments had been waiting too long as it was.

Behind the minotaur was a goblin that seemed to be having a hell of a time getting used to the sunlight. Perrin Appraised him too.

Class: Cleaner

Race: Goblin

Xlevel: 8

Strength: 4

Speed: 10

Int: *15*

Dex: 10

Spirit: 8

A high roll on the Int stat? Interesting. Most goblins tended to be pretty dull, but this one had a spark of intelligence that went beyond the nature of his kind. Fascinating! How he’d love to examine the creature’s brain for a little while. His own mind racing with possibilities offered by tools and instruments back in his tower, Perrin turned his to his intrigued attention to the pixie and used Appraise one more time.

Class: Lab Assistant

Race: Pixie

Xlevel: 3

Strength: 3

Speed: 9

Int: 6

Dex: 9

Spirit: 12

Damn, nothing special. Well, that was a bit disappointing. After the two intriguing specimens – no, he couldn’t think of them like that, he had enough open projects to focus his attention on that he didn’t need to go looking for more – he’d been hoping for there to be something special about the pixie as well, but alas. He’d simply have to content himself with finding minions that didn’t immediately need to be destroyed.

Craving some semblance of conversation after so much wasteful killing, he lowered his staff and smiled at the minotaur, who was regarding him with naked suspicion.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say anything? You can speak, right?”

The minotaur nodded, though when he opened his mouth to do so, Perrin was surprised at how low and scratchy it was.

“We aren’t interested in vengeance. All we want is to leave this place in peace and seek adventures elsewhere. Though it’s unlikely, we hope to find someone who can repair this instrument for me. I would like to hear its sounds once more.”

“That’s a nice goal, but I’m afraid that ship has sailed, minotaur. You’re better off lighting those scraps on fire to stay warm once the sun sets tonight than carrying them along with you. Not even the most skilled Luthier could rebuild it from scraps like that.”

“I see,” the minotaur said. He looked genuinely sad to hear it.

Perrin turned and pointed East. “There’s a city three or four days that way,” he said. “It’s called Seahorne, and there’s sure to be an instrument shop where you can buy a replacement. Do you have any money?”

The minotaur shook his head. Perrin reached into his robe and drew out the small bag of cloudy green gemstones that he’d been given as the first part of his payment and lobbed it through the air. It was a fortune by the standards of the people in this backwater country, but the Warlock was long past the need for money and wouldn’t miss it in the slightest.

“Include me in your tales,” he said as he waved for the trio to head on their way. “The generous benefactor that helped you get a new guitar!”

Whistling cheerily, Perrin thought that perhaps it was the heavy hand of Fate that dictated his meeting with the minions. Maybe things were starting to look up.

Not ten minutes after they’d left, Perrin Incinerated another dozen zombies shambling up from the lair.