The alleyway I had landed in was deserted. Except for a few rotting crates and, morbidly enough, festering fly-ridden corpse, it was empty. The distinct smell of spoiled meat wafted into my nose, coming from all directions. If my sense of smell was to be believed, the pungent odour was all-encompassing, rather than just a direct result of the nearby corpse which had been left unattended for quite some time.

I stalked over to the end of the alley, before poking my head out to scan my surroundings. The road I found myself on wasn’t as deserted as I’d hoped, because a few homeless people were sitting on the side walks, staring up at the people walking by. I took comfort in the fact that, at the very least, I had ended up in the between lands, because only here could undead be found standing guard outside of shady pubs. A few of the homeless people were mutants, as well, which assured me of the hypothesis further.

Truth be told, there had been no uncertainty regarding my location from the start. The between lands had an odd… aura? It emanated a feeling of comfort to all people with a dark-affinity, while making it difficult for others to see very well or use their skills effectively. This effect included me, putting me at ease, in a way. Though I had heard that certain settlements stymied the limiting effect somewhat, so as not to scare off any outcasts with different affinities, it seemed that enough of it was still present to make me relax a bit.

While I had never seen so many tall buildings stacked next to each other in the between lands, I knew that I had landed in necropolis, the supposedly buzzing capital of the region. All manner of outcasts, whether they be criminals, cultists or necromancers, whichever it may be, gathered in this sprawling maze of brick and mortar.

I put on a lengthy robe and pulled its hood over my head before stepping out into the little side street, a step up from the sticky alley. Thankfully, nobody seemed to question my presence as I passed by. In any other settlement, strangers that kept themselves covered in a cloak would have been seen as suspicious. In this place, however, the opposite was true.

As I searched for the end of the winding side street, in hopes of finding a main road, I took a gander at necropolis’ many townhouses.

They reminded me of the first village I had come across in the between lands, ‘Apart village’. There, the buildings had been crooked, leaning on each other so as not to fall over under their own weight. A strange tendency that necropolis seemed to share. In fact, something told me that the local builders took pride in making each of their creations even more outlandish than the next.

Apart from that commonality, many different architectures were used randomly. Roa’s rougher stone-carving style was used for the foundations of a few buildings, while others preferred Alterian’s elegant, pompous detailing. A few styles that I had never seen before were thrown into the mix as well, making the line of houses just chaotic enough to keep one distracted.

While the buildings themselves seemed lively, the same couldn’t be said for their occupants. Most homes had their windows boarded up or blinds closed, keeping anyone from looking inside. Furthermore, for how densely the houses had been built, the street itself was far less populated. Either everybody was at work for the day, or they didn’t tend to leave their homes in the first place.

I decided to withhold judgement for now, as there might be more busy places in the city, but the morose calm of this place still put my slightly on edge.

I peeked down a few more alleys as I passed by and found out that my morbid welcome hadn’t been that rare. Almost all of them had an open-sky burial as the one I had landed in had. Each of them had a corpse or two, in other words. They weren’t always fresh, mind you, but a few skeletons could be found laying or hanging around in crow cages every now and then.

After a few minutes, the sound of ‘people’ became louder. Hopeful that I was approaching a busier part of the city, my wish was granted when I turned the next corner. Finally, the side street opened up into some kind of market filled with people. A dense crowd had formed around the stalls, moving from place to place as any ordinary market-goer would. The people still had odd and off-putting appearances due to their variable classes and life experiences, but beyond that you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

I stepped into the crowd, flitting between packs of people without drumming to explore the place. While I didn’t have a concrete plan to find the dry man, the one I hoped to convince pertaining to two different matters, I felt that it would be fine to explore a bit.

I visited many different stalls, among which a few stood out. There were, of course, a large number of places that sold food. Everything from fruit and vegetables to cheese and bread. An open roast sold entire chickens and pigs to any who couldn’t resist the smell, while another butcher had posted up nearby to sell off any excess and uncooked meat.

The ones that really stood out, though, were the occult stalls. Cursed trinkets that only accepted trades of equal or higher value, mind-readings that went for a few silvers a minute, and even a body grafter that would sow body parts to you, attaching them to spots where they wouldn’t ordinarily go.

Wondering whether that place had great customer reviews or not, my attention was quickly taken by a loud town crier standing on top of a centrally located stage.

“The auction starts in three minutes! I repeat, the material auction starts in three minutes!”

After that announcement, people seemed to gather near the stage. A few wealthier folk and even a few sentient undead stepped onto a nearby balustrade to get a better view. I stayed down below, hoping to meld into the crowd as much as possible. More importantly, I was curious to find out what was being sold, exactly. Perhaps there would be an item that I was interested in, after all.

A few minutes later, the auctioneer came back on stage and announced the start of the auction, before introducing the first ‘material’. A black, slumping bag was carried onto the stage, where it was lifted onto a wooden board. The two bulky mutants that had carried it up took off the bag with practiced movement, revealing its contents in one fell swoop.

“A prime material here, folks! Just right to get the blood pumping and the auction started, I’d say! This here used to be a tier 3 classer specialising in blood skills of the berserker variety!”

Sure enough, I was looking at a corpse. The male body that lay on top of the board wore only a short loincloth, but the rest of him was clearly visible. His body was covered in tattoos, the angular patterns coming together to form an array that seemed to be functional at one point. The corpse’s face was twisted into a pained grimace, the large bloody gash across its chest being the source of the pain, no doubt.

“Isn’t that bloody Ivan?” someone whispered beside me, their question directed at their companion. More murmurs rose to join the inquisitive spectator as people started to wonder what the corpse would go for.

Things clicked for me at that point. Materials were corpses for necromancers! Not all of these people could be necromancers, though…

The bidding went on for a few minutes, eventually finishing at a whopping 342 gold pieces. More than six times what my spatial bag was worth! The auction continued as corpse after corpse was shown off. Usually, they went up a dozen at a time, as most ‘materials’ were only tier 1 and 2. At the end of the auction, though, two more tier 3s were bought and sold. A tier 4 even came up, causing a commotion and a bidding war that ended in the thousands of golds.

By then, I had realised that only the people on the balustrade were bidding. They were the actual necromancers. Everyone else had only turned up for their daily (weekly?) entertainment. The tier 4 corpse ended up going to a sentient undead necromancer that was wearing an astral-purple cloak with golden accents. Two obsidian bullhorns poked out of his humanoid skull, giving an aura of power. I supposed that this person had already reached tier 5. Either that, or he had a skill that allowed him to bypass the tier restriction on necromancy.

For a moment, I deliberated asking him for directions to the dry man or one of his generals, as tier 5 classers weren’t that common around here. I had met most of them already, in fact, apart from the ones that belonged to the necropolis faction.

I discarded the notion pretty quickly though, as I didn’t know the current situation of the between lands. For all I knew, a new conflict could have arisen and I didn’t want to take my chances with an unknown tier 5.

My problems were quicky solved when a familiar face popped up, however. A grey figure fell from the sky, landing on the balustrade. Even though his foot sunk through the rotting wood, he seemed nonplussed, pulling it back out with a swift tug and acting as if nothing had happened.

“Is the auction still ongoing? I’d like to take a look!” Ash said in his typical cheerful drawl.

I hadn’t always seen eye to eye with the grey-robed wizard, but I could still call him a friend. More importantly, as one of the dry man’s three generals, Ash would be able to point me to him.

How would I get to him though? Should I seek him out after the auction? Maybe I could sneak over…?

I shook my head, sighing. I had fought a war for these people, damn it. Why act so timid when the ruler of this place owed me a life debt?

I jumped onto the balustrade myself, appearing next to ash, who looked over at me with a confused hum. The other bigshots were far less pleased with my sudden interruption. Ash had been one thing, but two impolite visitors in one day? That seemed to ruffle their feathers.

The unknown tier 5 necromancer from before seemed ready to cast me to the shadow realm as he charged up a black orb in the palm of his bony hand, his white skull somehow twisting into a snarl.

I took of my hood before he got the chance, revealing myself to ash.

“Long no see, Ash. Been a while, huh?”

Ash seemed astounded to see me here, but he quickly broke out into a wide grin, which evolved into full-blown laughter.

“And so our wayward courier returns! A while indeed, Arthur. A while indeed!”