It has been a small age since the Ravenous Lich last contacted you.

Scratch was trimming sprouts for Second's crock pot.

When the meal wasn't mean to impress it was usually cooked in large batches to serve at least a few dozen hobgoblins at once.

Quiet had gathered quite a collection of custom cooking implements over the years. The kitchen took up a whole wing of the ground floor and contained complex earthenware contraptions for steaming, curing, roasting, and pureeing. If the boy was going to be the cook of the family, he might as well be an avant-garde cynosure chef.

As far as family members went, he was the only one that could with any hope of success make demands of Scratch not to smoke his cigar above the food. But he wasn't in the kitchen right now, so Scratch was puffing away, and communing with the kishin, the evil god.

Ever since he dumped the bat boy on us, he communicated to him, he's been content to let us be. The boy reports on us I suppose.

It is best to draw his attention as little as possible. I do not need to remind you that Pinchin, the evil god of Death and Undeath that he serves strives for the coalescence of all evil gods into one being. Something I desperately want to avoid.

"M-hm." Is that what you think this will be about?

I do hope against it. But if any earthly creature has any hope of discovering how, it would be the Ravenous Lich. He has been gathering the secrets of dark sorcery for centuries.

There's nothing you can tell me about his dealings?

Unfortunately not. You know I could tell you about all the underhanded deals and covert activities in every layer of the world. But Ritter does not conspire with minions, he stays in his tower.

Scratch put his sprouts down, he had decided he was done doing kitchen work and put out his cigar. He can't be that dangerous then.

You consistently dismiss the value of personal power! Do not underestimate his sorcerous might.

I don't believe in power.

-

When he strolled onto the square between the mansion's wings to look at the kids playing around.

Their games were military themed as always, and they were two teams of shield walls pushing into each other.

It wasn't the kind of game that could be played quietly, and it wasn't in their nature to ever lower their voice during a competition. So the house was awash with banging and screaming.

But even through their game, there was a distinct overtone of yelling cutting through the noise.

It was coming from the gate to the basement, or rather to the dungeon, of which the basement was only one level.

The hobgoblins happily ignored the incessant yelling.

Scratch eyes met Ada's from across the atrium, as she was overseeing the game/war exercise.

He pointed at the gate questioningly.

She shrugged.

Rather than relit his cigar and ask Cyclophan what was going on inside the dungeon, Scratch walked up to it.

The yelling was high pitched and game from just beyond the door. Which was strange as the entrance wasn't locked.

He pulled it open and was met with the vampire hissing and fleeing from the incoming sunlight.

"Noss. What are you doing?"

"Zhere you are, finally! I have been calling for you for half an hour. I cannot very vell come and fetch you during sunlight hours, can I? You should have met me down below." The boy complained with his cloak held up against the burning light.

"Calm down, calm down. We warp after dinner, right? There's still plenty of time." He closed the door behind him.

"Time?" Noss grimaced ghoulishly over his cape, "no zhere is no time at all! Ve varp at sunset, yes. But zhe likes of you cannot varp into zhe domain of my master unprepared! You must come vith me now, so I can provide zhe proper auspices."

Scratch crossed his arms and shifted his weight, then a realization came over him. "Oh, I see. You want to make a good impression, don't you? It's been some time since your master put you on this assignment, you want to show you've been doing important work."

"I assure you, zhis is for your own benefit."

He threw up his hands, "say no more, I'll come with you. Let's properly show off your auspices, right?"

The vampire made a general sort of disapproving noise.

-

The auspice in question was an unholy looking ring of bone and obsidian.

Noss had displayed it on a pedestal on his desk, in the hidden corner of the basement that was his quarters.

As soon as they arrived Scratch reached for it, but the vampire pulled him back.

"I have vaited for you, you can vait for me to finish how it vorks and vhy it is necessary."

"Why do you always insist on trying to explain magic to me?" Scratch sighed.

"Zhere is no excuse for being ignorant on zhe vorkings of magic, especially since you can perceive magic. Now sit down."

Scratch looked around and found an empty crate to sit on.

As he did, Noss retrieved a live rat from one of his drawers. "You are familiar vith zhe elements by now."

"I am familiar with your definition of it. Elements are things that can only be produced by magic, isn't that right?"

"Zhat is not a complete definition, but not incorrect I suppose. Behold, elemental death."

He held out his hand in front of the rat and, with an unspoken spell, infused it with his deadly element.

The rat struggled a bit in its panic, but the vampire's hand kept it firmly in place, and it began to die.

"Death is not zhe opposite of life, but its shadow. Zhis element attaches itself to zhe skeletal structure and rejects zhe flesh. Eventually, zhe living tissue is shed and a skeletal undead remains. Zo."

He dropped the rodent on the desk.

Its eyes had already sunken in and the body shriveled up, but it was still alive.

There was the faintest squeaking as it tried to gasp for breath.

"Very tasteful," Scratch grimaced, "you do this sort of thing for fun?"

"You better internalize zhe gruesome details dungeon master. Zhis vould be your fate if you vere to step into zhe lich's domain vithout protection."

Scratch's expression froze on his face.

"Zhat is how zhe offensive moniker vas born, zhe mortals experiencing zhe damaging effects of zhe tower,"" Noss explained, "zhey attribute it to zhe master drinking zheir life-force."

"This ring is what wards off elemental death, then?" Scratch asked, "is it yours from when you lived there?"

"I vill get to zhe ring in my own time. First, I must show you zhe zombie spell."

The magic he casted next was not as simple, and he summoned complex sigils around his arm in order to hex the rat.

When he was done, not much seemed to have happened, only that, on close inspect, the rat was breathing more easily.

Scratch raised his palms questioningly.

"Zhere are many types of undead," Noss said, "skeletal undead such as my master, vampires such as myself, specters, and more. Zhey are animated by very different sources, but zhey are all unliving creations made using zhe framework of organic beings. Zhat is vhy healing magic hurts us all equally, because it recognizes she life form underneath, and tries to replace us vith it. But it also vhy elemental death can not poison us, as it does not reject our body."

And to demonstrate what he said, he bombarded the rat with elemental death once more.

This time, instead of withering away it sat up and stretched itself. Its appearance hadn't restored, but its energy had, and it began to explore the edge of the desk.

"Vhile under zhe effect of zhis spell, zhe bodily processes are halted, and zhe body is animated by an unliving force. Until zhe spell runs its course, zhe subject is harmed by healing magic and healed by death magic. Zhey are, for all intents and purposes, undead."

"Impressive," Scratch said, "did you create this spell yourself?"

"If I could only claim zhat," Noss said, "no, it vas my master himself. His teachings are to alvays experiment vith one's understanding of magic and that, if one finds zhemself vishing a particular sort of spell exists, to develop it zhemself." His chest swelled with pride for his master. "But I vas able to convert zhe spell into a curse. Now you can take zhe ring."

Scratch took the object, he did detect the asymmetric lines of magical construct wrapping around the small jewel.

It was just enough to keep itself going and continuously recast the same complex spell every forty minutes.

Other cursed artifacts would often employ a spell that was redesigned to be an ongoing effect with a constant but low mana requirement, but the boy hadn't dared trying to alter his master's spell.

"Zhe curse spell lasts less zhan an hour, but vith zhis on, you vill be able to survive in his domain indefinitely."

When Scratch slipped on the ring he was suddenly gripped by a horrible cold in his lungs. He croaked painfully as his breath inverted and he fell to the ground.

It took a moment to come to grips with his new reality.

He didn't have a heartbeat, the air felt terribly cold, and lights were dancing in front of his eyes.

To all the outside world, he looked like a corpse.

"You could have warned me." He complained, climbing up from the ground shakily.

"But zhen zhat vould be no fun for me."

The the sun hadn't shone properly on the Rohani steppe for three centuries.

The air, pregnant with death, collected a roof of dark rolling crowds over the zone, and no vegetation survived there other than a few obstinate grasshalms.

It was merely gray that day, the sun forcing through a tepid diffuse light from who knew what direction.

On days like these the forces of order and humanity were increasingly bold.

The ability to see skeletal undead coming from miles away did much to take away their intimidation factor. And here on the outskirts they spawned only small clusters, making them seem rather defeatable.

A party of high level adventurers were just setting out towards the Lich's tower, and the generic fodder monsters did nothing to slow them down.

"Save your strength," the leader said, "remember that this will be a challenge of endurance."

"I vould hardly say I am overconfident," the healer responded, "zhis sapping of our life seems small now, but it vill accumulate over time. Ve must be cautious vith even zhe smallest tax on our health.

Do not let zhese skeletons chip avay at us."

The leader looked up and down the former bishop and nodded. "I see, then I trust your judgment."

"Hah! Anybody that thinks they can defeat the lich is overconfident!" The bard, who was a jester, laughed.

"If it's up the delusional to save the world, it's good we're here. It's down to our madness guys, so make sure you're plenty insane!" The leader quipped.

"Ooh, that's a good one. That's going in your song for sure." He said.

Despite their talk of brazen boldness, they were excessively prepared and delved in strategy.

The guild wouldn't allow a rag-tag group of job hoppers to face the strongest area boss the world had ever faced, short of the demon kings.

They were specially picked and specially trained for the task. After thousands had died trying, they could be the ones to finally defeat the Ravenous Lich and free the steppes of his power.

Each member was strong enough to withstand the aura of death for a couple of days at least. But their mounts would quickly be felled, so they had to leave them behind and make the trek on foot.

The first half a day was the most gruesome, as the undead they faced were often former adventurers or peasants, still in their tattered clothes, that had been overtaken by the death aura.

After that, the skeletons took on a more generic appearance. They had been created from death magic from the ground up, as no regular people would ever have made their way there.

That's why the ranger reacted with mild shock and a suspicious caution when he suddenly spotted three young boys standing amidst the horde.

-

"Ve couldn't have varped inside zhe tower," Noss explained for the so-manieth time to Scratch, with accumulating frustration, "zhe lord of zhe vestern stepps vould not allow varping to and fro his abode. Zhat vould be a security risk, no? Zhat is vhy ve valk."

"If that is so, Fleder, you man-sized tick," Scratch responded with no less frustration, "why did you think it would suit you to build a warping circle in my home, huh?"

They were bend over the same map of the region.

It showed only elevation and no roads, so they were at a loss of where they were supposed to meet their supposed escort.

A couple of yards away Youthere was balling his fists and talking to himself. "Oooooh yes, the pain! The glorious pain! I had never known such torture! Master, you must bring mortals here. They must suffer th- Oh." He looked up to see the adventurers approach. "How nice."

Scratch noticed the lack of ranting and looked up, "I see. That's unfortunate."

"Are you servants of the lich!?" The leader yelled, his weapon at the ready.

"What are you hesitating for?" Scratch asked him. He turned to Noss, "you're out of excuses now. You better warp us before-"

Noss was lying face-first into the yellow dirt.

The party readied their spells and rushed forward with their weapons, and for a second Scratch wondered if he had made a mistake taunting them.

But he was spared from having to learn from his mistakes when the shadow of a giant beast appeared between the two sides and stopped the adventurers in their tracks.

The leader had been in front of their formation, and he was only just able to dodge horse sized claws that came crashing into the ground and sunk into them.

The claws belonged to an abstract formation of skeletal features. Only its front limbs had fulled touched down, and the body behind it was an endlessly repeating snake of spine and ribs, twisting upwards into the clouds. The head was a canine skull, but longer, and vastly exaggerated in scale.

"Wellwellwell... well." A smug voice came from the creature.

On closer inspection, it came from a person standing on top of it. The thin man almost disappeared within the enormity of the creature.

"Another set of fools to be crushed under the power of the Rohani steppe. How amusingly trite. Be gone with you now."

The giant maw opened and a blinding light emerged from within. Lighting and thunder crashed over the adventurers and upturned the earth, bathing the world into chaos and violence for a fraction of a second.

When the attack was over, the air was as still as it had been before. Only the ground where the adventurers had stood and half a mile beyond was replaced by a blackened trench.

The thin man jumped down, and caught his fall with some wind magic.

As he approached Scratch and the others, his appearance become clear.

A human being, but gaunt and deathly, as if under the zombie curse, clad in a black robe and with an earring through his left ear, which was the secret sign by which dark sorcerers recognized each other.

"I must say, I am disappointed." He sighed theatrically, "I had exp-"

"Not so fast, fiend!" A voice rang out over the still air. "I have been entrusted vith zhe life of zhese younglings, and I have zhe goddess to support me in zhat holiest of tasks!"

A light shone brightly from the trench and, pushed several paces back, there stood the healer of the group.

He had a shield of magic energy in front of him, that had protected him against the onslaught. Its shape almost seemed like the hands of the goddess herself shielding him from harm.

"Do you now!?" The thin man yelled, "let's see you revive them after this!"

He stretched out his arm and the giant monster, which hadn't moved an inch after closing its maw, suddenly rushed forward.

The twisting vertical spine rushed down to provide materials for the horizontal part of the beast shooting out like a toy on a string.

With the speed at which it accelerated, the mind could not ascribe it its true size, until it clashed with its target.

Just as Noss had gotten up, a shockwave of sound and compressed air knocked the three of them to the ground again.

But the adventurer stood his ground.

He was spinning his staff as a white energy stood between him and the undead giant.

He was being pushed back slowly, but the beast was forming cracks.

"Abominable creature!" He yelled out, as the skull exploded.

The rest of the creature was not defeated by the demise of his head, and segment after segment ran into him.

He smashed them all with holy energy. "Don't underestimate zhe power of humanityyyyyy!"

Suddenly, the bones stopped coming.

They flopped to the ground lifelessly and its tail reaching up in the sky collapsed on top of itself.

Not because it had been vanquished, but because the thin man was now behind the adventurer, his hand piercing the older man's back.

"It's true, you are powerful holy man. Such power must serve the lich instead."

"N-nooo..." something green and foul spread into the man and slowly began to overtake him.

"Vhat's happening?" Noss asked.

"Your friend is showing off." Scratch said.

"Zhat sorcerer? I have never met him before."

-

The thin man's magic eventually served to erase the adventurer's mind and turn him into an undead thrall.

But not before the two had an entire conversation about the power of light versus darkness and which side was destined to win.

After all that the first thing he said to Scratch, when he came to him with the man in tow was "you are late."

The baronet took a moment to collect himself, but on a fake smile, and offered his hand. "Nice to meet you, Scratch, these are Noss Fleder and some brat, with whom do I have the pleasure?"

The thin man didn't shake it. "I am Podesto, the lich's apprentice, I shall take you to him."

"Zhe lich's apprentice? Zhat is impossible, I am master Ritter's apprentice."

Podesto flared his nostrils, "were you? Well, you have been replaced."

Noss didn't like Podesto.

What remained of the dragon flew them to the tower, and the vampire was giving him the stink eye the entire way.

"You're gonna pout the whole way?" Scratch asked him out loud.

Noss turned his back to him.

"How is who's whose apprentice even a big deal? Like, is it a job?"

"Of course it's a 'big deal' master," Youthere draped himself over his shoulder, his preferred way of speaking was with his mouth directly to his ear, "dark sorcerers know the rule of two. The secrets of dark sorcery are jealously guarded, so the art can only be learned by taking on a teacher. And developing it requires long isolated study, so one can not become truly mighty without an apprentice to enact their will on the outside world."

Scratch looked at Podesto's back, he was standing straight with his face to the wind, pretending not to hear them but smiling smugly at the words anyway.

"I see, makes sense then. I'd take this guy instead as well."

"You must remember," Youthere said, "that magic users are taught to demonstrate the might of their magic when encountering a fellow mage, to establish the hierarchy. Such was the way with

Lacrima turning your brood into an amphibian, and such was the way of Ritter summoning a skeletal army in your home. What you saw of our friend Podesto today was no casual display, likely it was his mightiest attack."

Scratch smiled joylessly, "I was more-so making reference to the poor showing of the other mage. You know, comparison-wise."

The comment didn't sit well with Noss, and he was about to bite back, but a fight was nipped in the bud by the spine's sudden turn to the side.

The party had reached Ritter's tower and the vessel moved to wrap itself around the black spikes.

The smooth bone provided little in the way of grip, and the boys began to be tilted towards a precipitous fall.

A monstrous depth gaped before them. Miles and miles of tower shrunk from a castle in size to a needlepoint in the indistinct dunes below.

"Slave. Grab them." Podesto said, and the former adventurer jumped onto Scratch and his familiar.

Noss had already turned into a monstrous bat, but the other two were saved by the undead creature's powerful leap, soaring many seconds through the sky before landing onto one of the tower's outcropped platforms.

-

Scratch took a moment to collect himself.

He hadn't really seen the tower before arrival, and been disembarked in a somewhat hectic- one could say tumultuous- manner.

Now he was in the middle of the architecture, and it was massive.

They were standing on an outcropping from the main tower, of which there were many.

Bridges towards nowhere that ended in blade-like formations pointing upwards.

The spikes prevented him from seeing the entire length of the tower stretching out above him, and their current platform, the size of the Promise's entire main road, blocked the view down.

So he had no way of taking in the enormity of the tower, only that which was in front of him.

The main stem of the tower in front of him was wide enough to fill his vision. A pure black monolith of glass and smoke.

Various skeletal dragons had sunken into its side, taking on its colour, but providing a morbid embossment across its entire surface.

"Drop them."

As soon as the apprentice had given the command, Scratch and Youthere were dropped roughly onto the dark bricks floor.

"My! But what a leap!" Youthere proclaimed.

"Undead are more powerful the more potential they had in life," Podesta said dismissively.

"You could have varned us." Noss said, as he transformed back.

"I could have, yes.... Now then, we have made the master wait for long enough. We shall not dally any longer."

"If it isn't for the sake of your curiosity." Scratch added.

Podesto shot him a glance.

The apprentice had held off approaching the party in order to assess their power.

The baronet hadn't been able to resist hinting that he had seen through it.

There was nothing in the tower that indicated anybody lived there.

No windows, carpets, or furniture.

Only endless open spaces. Stairways, halls, and bridges made of black glass and stone.

In the very middle was the blackest and most open space, a giant throne room with a cupola as its ceiling almost a mile in diameter.

The top of the vaulted ceiling wasn't visible, as a misty reproduction of the night's sky floated many stories above their heads. Some sort of decorative illusion that only made the hall seem more impractically large.

The lich was visible from the archway from which they entered. Or rather, his throne was.

It was more blackness in an already inky fortress, a tower of steps towards an imposing seat.

The undead minotaur, a tall creature by himself, didn't fully stand out amongst the vastness of his possessions until they had crossed that distance.

Podesta was the first one to kneel before the steps of the throne.

Noss quickly followed.

"Welcome to my domain!" The lich's voice rang with amplified volume across the length of his throne, echoing into the hall. "It had occured to me that you hadn't visited it before. So here it is! What do you think of my dungeon?"

"It's rather big!" Scratch yelled.

"What did you say?"

"It's big!!"

"I can't hear you. Use a voice spell."

"Ah, I don't have my microphone gem with me." Scratch bristled.

"He was just commenting on the vastness of your wealth, master!" Podesto said, his voice likewise projected.

"Oh yes. This is all by the power of dark sorcery you know, dark sorcery and Pinchin. Work hard to develop your spells and you too could one day-"

"Sod this." Scratch shook his feet and began climbing up the steps.

"Hey!" Podesto sputtered, "none may approach-

Scratch spun around and showed his open palms. "Am I a threat?"

"No, but..."

Not letting the apprentice stop him any longer, Scratch continued up the stairs.

They were minotaur-sized steps, and it was a tall tower, but he arrived at the lich's throne eventually.

"What's the..." he paused his indignant rant its budding start as he was still panting from the climb. "...point of... this whole torture device?"

Ritter seemed surprised at the question, for as far as he was able to emote without facial muscles. "Well I... don't want to be ambushed by followers of the light, do I? My senses rely on lifeforce, not vision. So I need an empty space, free of lifeforms to be on my most alert."

"I see. Just in case, huh? And the giant aura of death, is that just in case too?"

"Now listen here, Scratch. You would do well to take me as an example. The poisoned light eradicates all humans that intrude upon my land, while your Promise is swarming with them."

"I am fond of my humans, thank you very much."

"Even the ones that want you dead?"

"Especially the ones that want me dead! Those are the smart ones! But they can't kill me, you know why?"

"Oh!? You have crafted a sorcery I am not aware off?"

"It's because I didn't build a giant evil tower and killed everyone that looked at me funny. That's why. Come on, Ritter, what really came first? The adventurers trekking miles to come kill you? Or the giant fuckoff death-ray? Be honest."

"Haha," Ritter leaned back, "then you are with the secrecy crowd, who believe the best way to defend a dungeon is to minimize its impact and keep it a secret from the outside world."

"I guess I am? It's not like nobody knows about Cyclophan's tunnel you know. It's just that everybody benefits by not disturbing the status quo. That's how you achieve stability, you get people on your side."

"He'll fit right in," Ritter said to Podesto, who had just followed the others up.

"Fit right in what?" Scratch said, slightly alarmed.

The dungeon lords did not often meet in one room.

In the first place because any meeting of dark sorcerers was a mercurial affair, prone to sudden explosions of magical violence, and that tension was only made more volatile by the addition of more sorcerers and more power.

But in the second place because they were united agents in service of the dead god of evil, and when united into one place were an attractive target for the twelve gods.

Only Ritter's tower was a suitable fortress against such violence.

"Zhat bastard. Does he zhink he can make us vait on him like ve are mortal supplicants?"

The man complaining was Yanis, a spectral undead wrapped in bandages and wizard robes. He was called the Emperor of Secrets by his followers. The two undead were usually superficially pleasant to each other, but that politeness belied a grudging rivalry.

"Have you still not forgiven him for costing you your apprentice, bambino?" The merfolk sorceress teased.

She was called Arlette, False Goddess of the Sea, and suspended in a floating vortex of water, adorned liberally with colored beads but not much else.

She turned to the emissary, who sat at the table in the name of their master. A silent dragoon knight that served Brummun, the Immortal Thunder Dragon. "You're allowed to talk you know, don't be shy boy."

"I'm- It's not a petty complaint. The Ravenous Lich is showing disregard for our time."

"Heh."

From the corner of the room came the bitter chuckle of the last invited dungeon lord.

Abyss was a tall man in black leather, sporting an enormous magical scythe. He was called the Reaper of Darkness and the only guest there that did not repel the aura of death with a magical shield.

Instead he absorbed and manipulated it on the outside of his skin, coalescing the energy into a small cluster of skulls in his hand. He considered it more interesting than his fellow dungeon lords and didn't look them in the eyes.

"I am willing to endure an eternity of waiting if it will bring me my revenge."

Arlette rolled her eyes.

-

They weren't made to sit in overly long before Ritter's arrival.

He came from his throne room with Scratch in tow.

Around the table were kneeling servants of each visiting dungeon lord, and while Ritter was able to float right over them, Scratch had to push his way through. "Excuse me... yes, yeah, excuse me..."

It created an awkward scene as the dungeon lords had to sit there until the goblin had worked his way through the crowd.

"Thank you for your patience." He said eventually, as Ritter gestured him towards a seat.

"Scratch is my vassal," Ritter said, "it is he who controls the second segment in my name. So his lands are under my protection."

"Heh, I get the picture," Abyss said, "very well. I can't challenge you... yet. So I will order my people to retreat from your territory for the foreseeable future."

Only Yanis visibly reacted to Abyss' clear communication of future ambition. A wordless anybody-else-hearing-this gesture. But nobody else joined in his outrage. The threat had been towards Ritter, it was his problem.

"Scratch, these are the dungeon lords of the overworld I had told you about. Including our newest ally. Since we will be explaining our agreement to him, the vassal might as well sit and learn alongside."

"I look forward to hearing about the limitless power of the god of evil," Abyss looked at his balled fist, "but you better not waste my time."

"I zhought you vere villing to endure an eternity." Yanis complained.

"Boys, remember, no fighting." Arlette said, more to spite them with condescension than to calm them down.

"Why not?" Abyss smirked, "I'd like to test the mettle of-"

"A boy thinks he can challenge me?!" Yanis bellowed angrily.

Their servants were already grasping at their weapons.

Ritter gestured at them to settle down, but it was a sort of desperate and ineffectual pleading.

"You must know the most about Malsidious, Yanis," Scratch said, adopting a faint hint of his accent to mirror him, "as I hear you are the eldest of his servants."

Instantly, the specter forgot his rage. "Indeed I do," he boasted loudly, "I vere a servant of His before the vyrm, before zhe fall of darkness. Today I am zhe champion of Maximo, kishin of slavery, but my agenda does not stop at zhe subjugation of men. It is zhe dark revival itself zhat is my ambition. Once I am zhe champion of zhe god of evil, zhe elements of magic itself vill prostrate before me."

"Yanis basically started this council," Arlette said, "collecting powerful dungeon lords to combine our powers for the dark revival. But we only recently learned about you, Abyss."

"Heh. I operate in the shadows."

"Well.... mi sona, I am called the Goddess of the Sea-"

"False Goddess" the emissary interjected.

"The Goddess of the Sea," she insisted angrily, "because I am champion of Zajjit, kishin of betrayal, and I control her water dungeons in the caves of Grienice. I strive for the dark revival so that I may become the champion of evil and sink the overworld into the sea~!" She sang the last part.

"Abyss and I have already introduced," Ritter said, "many centuries ago, the Pinchin, kishin of death and undeath, saved me from oblivion and granted me eternal undeath. I have served him ever since."

"My master is to great to fit in this hall," the emissary said, "so I will speak in his name. Brummum, the Immortal Thunder Dragon, is a champion of Tamber, kishin of destruction. He hopes to achieve the dark revival in order to become more powerful as the champion of the god of evil."

"... That's it?" Scratch asked.

"Why would there be anything else?"

"Well I am known as Abyss," the tall man said, "and I have claimed all the power I have by myself. I did not receive any handouts from kishin, nor do I serve one. But I have let myself be named champion of Hort, evil god of shadows, in order to fulfill my ambitions. I will wield whatever power I have to to achieve my revenge. By the sound of it, the dark revival is the pathway to all our wishes."

"Weeeelll, almost..." Arlette chuckled.

"Ve must combine our empires to achieve zhe dark revival. But only one of us can become His champion vhen he has returned. Who has ze most favor vith Malsidious depends on vitch kishin's personality vill dominate zhe restored mind."

"Witch depends on which aspect of evil is the most prominent in the world." Arlette said.

Abyss calculated for a bit, "what is needed to achieve this dark revival?"

"A critical mass of wyrm shards must become home to kishin and developed into dungeons," Ritter explained, "eventually the strength of Malsidious will awaken and the shards will unite, the wyrm once more, who will then then destroy the overworld."

"Wait, haha, hold up." Scratch sputtered, "'the overworld'? That's were we live, isn't it?"

But he went ignored. "However, we don't know where every shard is," Arlette said, "we don't know whether they are inactive, controlled by dungeon masters, or held captured by the forces of light."

"Nor do ve know vhen zhe critical mass of dungeons vill be achieved."

"Whatever the case, we need dungeon lords to expand their territory and gather up as many shards as possible."

"But not too quickly~"

"Each of us is vary of zhe others gaining more power zhan us und increasing zheir chances of becoming zhe champion of evil."

"It's a non-aggression pact, for the most part," the emissary said, "but information and magical secrets are shared on occasion, and members will aid each other if they are threatened by the forces of light."

"Heh. As long as it will aid me in my revenge... it works for me."

"So the lich just happened to discover the true identity of the Liege?" Barbara asked incredulously.

Scratch and his two sidekicks had invited themselves for tea at her market-side manor again.

"Now that I think about it. That's an awfully convenient coincidence." Scratch paused his attack on the pile of scones he had collected, "Fleder, did you leak my counter-intelligence data?"

"Yes."

"Well, there you have it."

"You realize your speech lost all coherency at the end there." Barbara hissed. "That was just sounds."

"I could guess zhe meaning."

"That's not the point."

"Well, anyway, we all had a terrible time," Scratch concluded, "lots of violence, insults to our pride, and an impending apocalypse. I think only Youthere enjoyed himself."

"Oh no master. Demonkind is no servant of Malsidious. We aim for a world steeped in sin and suffering, while that dead god aims to wipe out life all together."

Barbara massaged her temples, "can we please stay on topic. The liege has agreed to leave us our territory?"

"His name is Abyss, " Scratch said, "well, his true name is Kato Ken. And he has some beef with the likes of Beatrice Dichtershire. Wants to destroy the world, expects us to help, that about sums it up."

"We're not going to do that, right? What does he need our help with?"

"Yeah... of course he doesn't need our help. It's Ritter he-" Scratch suddenly stopped talking and leaned back into the chair, putting his finger to his lips.

"My master has tasked Scratch vith guarding tze shards of zhe second segment. Zhat is vhy I am here, to oversee and report on him." Noss explained, "it is zhese shards zhat provide zhe pathway to zhe dark revival."

"...by hosting more evil gods." Scratch added, "but we only work with one evil god. So leaving the whole segment to us doesn't make any sense."

"I am sure zhe lich vill-"

"And why invite me to the meeting, huh? He should know I'm invested in this region and that I'd become recalcitrant at the doomsday scenario. He should know Cyclophan has no hope of becoming the dominant personality and isn't going to cooperate either!"

"Scratch!" Noss fumed, "not anozher vord out of your mouth! Zhe master of zhe Rohani steppes knows vhat he is doing."

"That's what I'm saying. 'Served him ever since' you were his apprentice, right? Has he ever tried to teach you worship of undeath?"

"N-no. His teachings vere of zhe study of all magic."

"Dark sorcery apprenticeship is a transactional relationship, master." Youthere restated.

"Who would be fanatic enough to destroy the world but never proselytize? You know the exact words he used to describe Pinchin to me? When he first explained kishin? 'The god of undeath is able to see whatever the skeletal undead see, hear, whatever we hear.' And who does he send away to live with us? The non-skeletal undead, the one person in his court that's animated by blood, and not death."

Noss was stunned, "zhe master... does not vant to destroy zhe world..." he instantly believed in the truth of the statement.

Barbara leaned in, "and what does this mean for us?"

Scratch shrugged, "not much. Whether I'm wrong or right, it's in our best interest to pretend we're on board but really stall and do nothing."

"That doesn't seem like a surefire way to save the world from destruction."

"Let's leave that to the likes of Dichtershire."

Zombie Curse

The zombie curse is a temporary curse sometimes cast by necromancers. Adventurers under the zombie spell receive damage from healing magic, so one must not heal an ally suffering from the zombie curse.