Underneath the earth, a dozen small burrowing creatures had tunneled practically from their spawn points all the way to the town of Melloram. It had taken the better part of three days, and some of them had not survived the grueling journey. But enough had, and now they lay curled up and snoring in very specific locations scattered around the town and even a few just outside the dungeon tunnels.

They were small creatures, utterly incapable of attacking or defending themselves. They were little more than a pair of digging claws, a series of tremor-sensitive polyps on the front and belly of a squat cylindrical body. They resembled and unholy mixture of a weasel and a tortoise, with just enough earthworm thrown in to make it interesting.

Of course, there was one very specific quirk of their biology that made them utterly essential to certain types of warfare. It wasn’t quite a poison, nor was it quite an attack. It was a single-use ability, and was the reason Araxesendenak had been so overjoyed when he saw them on the spawn lists.

Soon, they would be needed. But for now, the creatures known only as ‘Tunnel Sappers’ slept on, oblivious to the world around them.

* * *

“Alright Milthorne,” Sam said, glaring. “Let’s hear it.”

“The wording is his,” the woman said, inhaling. “Please do not think less of me for speaking thus.”

“Sure sure. Just get on with it.”

“Right.” Another breath. “Tolliver, you’ve done a commendable job here. I would have had you at our first meeting, of course, had it not been for your little chitty’s interference. But I am not bitter. I have to admit, you’ve done a wonderful job setting up a net of teleport-denial fields to keep me out. Of course, there are always vulnerabilities in any net. Put a big enough hole in one, for instance, and things can just swim in and out as they please.”

Sam stared. “What?”

“That’s all he said,” Milthorne said, finally catching her breath.

“Shit,” said Tilly.

“Back to the dungeon,” Sam said, making a snap decision. “Everybody back. Move!”

* * *

“And right about now,” Araxesendenak said, as he stepped into the Teleportation room. “I confess, I’m all a-tingle with anticipation. Send the signal, if you please.”

It is done.

* * *

Tunnel Sappers have no natural enemies or predators, because they have been given a quirk of biology that makes them wholly and dangerously inedible. They aren’t even hunted in the wild, just gently nudged off in directions that do not lead to anything valuable or flammable.

Within the sappers, at the Failstate’s signal, a pair of bladders depressed and vented their chemical contents into a third stomach-like organ, where they mixed and swirled around. Then, cued by a string of proteins that reacted to the mixing of the chemicals, a final chemical from a much smaller bladder was introduced.

The results were, quite literally, explosive. The Tunnel Sappers went from reasonably ugly but harmless scaley critters to small living demolitions charges.

And each one of them was positioned with uncanny accuracy right beneath or beside a teleport denial emitter.

* * *

Your Base Is Under Attack!

The bass voice rang out in alarm a bare second after what sounded like a thousand kernels of the largest popcorn Sam had ever heard went off. Geysers of dirt sprayed up into the air all around town at regular intervals, most of them out near the wall but several of them within the town proper itself.

Sam felt the teleport denial field go down.

“Run!” he screamed. “Get back to the dungeon! Now now now now now!”

The lich was coming. And they weren’t prepared. Those teleport deniers were never supposed to have been compromised.

Missed it. Missed all of it. I should have known he wouldn’t just sit around!

“Tolliver,” Milthorne’s voice came from beside him as he started to run. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he said between gritted teeth. “Nothing to be sorry about. Run please.”

“No, not for that.”

It was the tone of her voice that made Sam turn his head. It was the grip on his arm that made him start to raise his hammer.

“For this.”

The world flashed, he felt a pulling sensation, powerful and undeniable. And then, suddenly, he was somewhere else.

“Hello Tolliver,” A cheerful voice he had come to recognize said in a delighted nasally tone. He turned away, still with Milthorne clinging to his arm, and stared wide-eyed into the purple-flame eyes of Lich King Araxesendenak.

“Interesting fact,” the undead monarch said conversationally. “Did you know that teleport chambers, in addition to teleporting their occupants to a fixed point, can also teleport others from a point? You need a known quantity to target the point, of course; a bauble keyed to the room, or a trusted ally acting as a spotter.”

The lich turned to Milthorne and nodded once. “Thank you, trusted ally.”

He turned back to Sam again, who was staring open-mouthed.

“But where are my manners. Welcome, Samuel Tolliver, to Phyrexes, capital of my domain. My guards will show you to your rooms.”

“Not a chance,” Sam growled, opened his menu, and slammed the ‘guardian teleport’ power.

Nothing happened.

“Another interesting fact,” Araxesendenak said almost lazily; “Teleport rooms may function within even the most powerful anti-teleport field, which I just happen to have around my palace and the surrounding grounds. Can never be too careful, don’t you know.”

The friendly facade dropped away, and suddenly the lich was standing nose to nasal cavity with Sam, those eyes shifting to red and his tone dropping to a menacing whisper.

“I know your powers, boy. I know how they function, and I have already taken steps to counter them. You will not be permitted to die, you will not escape, you will stay in my dungeons until I have wrung every drop of information from you using methods that I guarantee you will try to resist but that will eventually break you like an egg. And when you have told me all I wish to know, I will strip your powers from your body like removing organs from a host, and I shall take them for myself. And only then, when I have left you a withered husk, bereft of even your humanity, will I allow you to perish. Only then.”

The lich spun on his heel as four large armored skeletons tromped into the room.

“Best get used to the accomodations, Tolliver,” he said without turning back. “You’re going to be here for a while.”

And Sam was dragged into darkness by the undead, still reeling, unable even to speak as the lich king strode from the room.

And the darkness closed around him.