Lizard at Arms, and More- "The Old Stomping Grounds"

“This is awfully sudden, Lain,” Thaddeus Fly groused as he stood in Lain McNealy’s chamber doorway, watching her pack her rucksack for travel. “Besides, I thought you were enjoying your time off in the city.” He tried not to push her away by arguing too much with her. He’d told Markus Trent during their quest for the Glove of Shadows that Lain was meant for bigger, better things than serving in the Midnight Suns, one of the two large thieves’ Guilds that operated in Desanadron. Still, he hoped against hope that this wasn’t her final good-bye.

“I have been.”

Her light, sultry voice called out to the more primal impulses in her boss’s head. He wondered if it was healthy for him, a Black Draconus, to sleep with a Human woman, but neither of them questioned it much when they were alone in his bedroom.

She tossed her head to one side, whipping her long, raven black hair out of her face as she stuffed the last few articles of clothing she’d be taking into the rucksack. She looked up at her leader and lover, and gifted him with a blown kiss. “I just feel the need to go back, if only for a few days. The trip will take longer than my actual time there, Tad.” She used this pet name knowing that he hated it when she used it anywhere other than in private. She giggled as he flinched at the sound of it, but he squeezed his eyes shut, and heaved a heavy sigh.

“I see I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this.” He crossed his arms over his broad chest once again. “You’re taking someone with you, aren’t you? Don’t tell me you’re going to be going alone.” He pointed one long, scaled, talon-tipped finger at her in warning. “Because if you are planning on doing this on your own, I forbid it! Even for one such as yourself, those marshes are dangerous business.”

Lain planted her hands on her hips and leaned to the side slightly, giving him her patented ‘Do I look like an idiot’ look.

“So someone else is going with you. From the Guild?”

“No, dear.” She hauled her rucksack up onto her back. “I met an interesting fellow at one of the local magic shops a few weeks back. You may remember me mentioning him, a little Kobold fellow.”

Fly turned his eyes upward, thinking back to their recent conversations. Then, he snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

“Right, that Kobold mage fellow, what was his name?”

“Kobuchi.” She curled one hand up against his rough, scaly cheek, and gave him a short, hard hug. “We’ll be perfectly safe, dear. Don’t worry so much.” She felt something pressed into her free left hand. She looked to her left, and saw the white clad Ninja, Akimaru, standing there. He had pressed a small cage into her hand with a messenger pigeon inside.

She uttered a little laugh and thanked Akimaru, who saluted her and darted off back down the hallway after bowing to Fly. “I think you’re being ridiculous, but thank you dear,” she said, planting a kiss on his mouth.

He stepped further out into the hall, and patted her on the shoulder.

“Have a good time, Lain, but be careful and write me at least every other day. I want to know if there’s trouble. That pigeon’s enchanted, he can get back and forth from here to Ja-Wen in a couple of hours. You’re not going that far, so it’ll only take about an hour.” He turned his back on the Human Necromancer and starting slowly away from her. “Have a safe trip, Lain.”

“I will, dear,” she called after him, then started down the long, narrow hallways for the exit out of the abandoned apartment complex that housed the Midnight Suns.

Already her mind flooded with memories of her old training grounds, the strange temple they housed, and the quirky, cute little Kobold fellow she’d met in the magic shop a few short weeks ago. He had told her he was in the area because Desanadron and Palen were the only two cities that carried the sort of magical items he required for his research, and Palen was fresh out. The Kobold had also told her, before Lain even had a chance to introduce herself, that he had approached her because he sensed a powerful magical aura about her. He’d been able to identify her Class just by being near her.

Kobuchi himself possessed an interesting amalgamation of magic and spells from several different schools of magic. He claimed to have two of the Ancient Spells under his belt, though she highly doubted it.

Probably just puffing himself up, she’d thought, but she also found herself quite liking the little man. With so few other magic users in the Guild, she found herself wanting some like-minded company for a while, and she’d already planned a trip to the Lucara Marshes. She impulsively invited him to accompany her, and he had agreed just as impulsively.

Lain exited the Guild’s building into an alley, and then guided herself between the various Wererat and Human drug dealers in the alley to the main street out front of the Guildhall. The bright, midday sun streamed lovely light down on her, and she took a deep breath of the open air. She regretted for a moment leaving her Permanent Attendant behind again, but then realized that she didn’t really like having him around much these days anyhow. He had become very strange as of late, and seemed to be growing more independent of her control and suggestions.

He’s evolved too much, that’s all, she thought. I should have put a stop to it a long while ago, but what can I do about it now? I’ll just have to create a new one.

Permanent Attendants were usually the first undead creature that a Necromancer raised from the dead, and they did anything and everything the Necromancer ordered them to. The undead, under the careful control and crafting of a skilled Necromancer, could ‘evolve’, as it were, into larger, more powerful undead creatures. When first starting out, Necromancers could raise a skeleton or a zombie, but nothing else. As they became more powerful, and reached new levels of mana growth, they could conjure up more powerful undead, such as Uberzombies, Skull Warriors, and Red Bone Warriors. These creatures could then, in turn, ‘evolve’ either on their own or with the aid of a Necromancer into Dread Knights (for Uberzombies or Skull Warriors), or, with an old and nearly forgotten ritual, into Wraiths. Only the most powerful Necromancers could summon or create a Dread Knight from scratch, and none could tame a wild or natural Wraith.

Lain had the ability, if she had the inclination, to raise or create any of these creatures if she wanted to. She had once constructed a Dreadnaught all on her own, and brought it to life, nearly sending herself into a weeklong coma. She had come in and out of consciousness during that time, and her Personal Attendant had been forced to destroy the Dreadnaught, since it went berserk after coming to life. She hadn’t been too happy about that, but knew why he’d had to do it. She had used body parts from several different brutal Races, and hadn’t used anything with less than a moderate degree of brute power at its disposal. Having erected it, though, she knew it would be a snap to create a new Personal Attendant, but she didn’t want to at the time. For now, she was content.

The Human Necromancer, pale and slender to the point of being sickly-looking, headed off down Quarter Street toward the nearest magic shop, where she’d agreed to meet Kobuchi. From a hundred yards away, she could barely spot him, since he only stood at three feet (if that) in height. The Kobold mage wore a plain white button shirt over blue jeans, with a tan leather duster over the shirt and a rancher’s hat on his head. He’d been wearing it on the day they met, and he’d called it a ‘cowboy hat’, or something equally odd sounding. He spotted her as she got closer, and waved her over.

“Wonderful day to head to someplace like we’re going. Seriously, though, it’ll be interesting I’m sure.” His high, reedy voice lifted up to her ears over the noise of someone haggling with a street vendor nearby.

Lain looked over, waved to the vendor, Harold Deus, and returned her gaze down to Kobuchi, who wore a long duster and his cowboy hat despite the hot sunlight.

“You look ridiculous, but I guess it’s fitting.” She tapped the wide brim of his hat with one long, slender finger. “It rains a lot in the Lucara Marshes. I suppose you already know that, though.” Kobuchi struck her as the sort of fellow who does much research on an area before going there. She thought that probably applied to people as well.

“Indeed, I do,” he said, confirming her suspicion. “Now, I have never been to the Lucara Marshes myself, but I can teleport us to someplace reasonably close by.” He drew mana into his body. “It’ll only take us a day and a half to walk to the southern front of the Marshes.”

Lain considered this, and then grinned and nodded.

“Please place your hand on top of my head,” Kobuchi said quietly, and Lain complied.

“Condura, condua, condura, condua,” he chanted, bringing his palms together.

An emerald sigil appeared on the ground beneath them, and a matching one formed in the air just over Lain’s head.

She stared in wonder at them, shifting her eyes first down, then up, then down again. The circles rotated in opposite directions, first slowly, then faster, to match the quickening pace of Kobuchi’s chants.

“Condura, condua, condura, condua! Fly us through space and time, hurl us forth! Teleport!”

Blinding white light flared all around Lain, obliterating her view of the city around her, and a vacuum of air popped her ears as she felt herself pulled into emptiness, nothingness. Magical power thrummed all around her body, and she then had the sensation of flying, weightless, down some sort of corridor. She had been through Alchemy teleportation, which wasn’t a pleasant experience, but this was something far more terrifying. With Alchemy, she at least felt whole. With this magical Teleport spell, she felt as if her body had been pulled apart into its smallest components, and was being delivered piece by piece someplace else.

She prayed to Necros that she would be reconstructed in the proper order. Head, neck, upper torso, lower torso, legs, she thought. Oh, and make sure you remember the arms along the way!

Another loud explosion erupted in her ears, and behind her eyes, as she crash-landed into the ground, which she could vaguely see and feel was soft and grassy. She groaned and curled up into a ball, hugging her knees to her breasts and moaning loudly.

“It’s always nasty the first time, but you get used to it over time,” Kobuchi said from somewhere nearby.

Lain McNealy opened her eyes slowly, letting them come into focus, and found herself looking at a jean-clad pair of legs. Short legs at that, and she realized she was looking sideways from the ground at Kobuchi, who didn’t appear in the slightest affected by the whole process.

“Why did it feel like that?” She groggily rolled into a sitting position, still hugging her legs. The tall grass around her stood a few inches under Kobuchi’s head, and she almost laughed, but held it back for fear that she would vomit if her stomach tensed up any more than it already had.

“Oh, well, that’s simple enough to explain.” Kobuchi waved a hand almost as if to say ‘everyone knows that’. “Teleportation of the magical sort requires that we travel directly through the realm of Time itself. We travel through what is called, in the ancient scripts, ‘The All,’ you see. Mortals such as you and I were never intended to do such a thing, and the magic required makes us sort of, well, less real for a few moments.”

“A few moments.” She clutched her chest, feeling her heart still racing. “It felt like we were in that, that tunnel, for hours!”

Kobuchi shook his head and chuckled.

“What’s so funny about that?”

“I’m sorry, dear Ms. McNealy. It’s just that only a few seconds have actually passed between our leaving Desanadron and our arrival here. We’re just north of a town in the Fiefdom of Lemago, a little farming village called Suikosu. We could go there and purchase horses if you’d like, but I think that would be a waste of time and money. We’re only a day and a half south of the Lucara Marshes.”

“How can you know that if you’ve never been there?” She slowly got to her feet. She experienced a moment of vertigo, and then mastered herself.

Kobuchi gave her an indignant look, one that, to her, appeared very natural for him.

“I know where it is because I have very purposefully avoided it,” he said. “I’m not big on places like that, Ms. McNealy, because they’re terrifying and full of monsters. Demons still roam the lands, and they are said to often travel through that region. I’m powerful, I assure you, but little match for a full-blooded demon.”

Lain nodded, and hitched up her bag on her shoulders.

“Not many folks other than Necromancers and Anti-Paladins roam within the Lucara Marshes. At least, not normal folks, you understand.” She headed north, leading the short-legged Kobold with ease. She sent invisible tendrils of magic into the ground around her, and scouted outward for several hundred yards in every direction, marveling at the sheer quantity of dead bodies buried in the ground around the area. “Kobuchi, is Lemago a war-riddled region?”

“Oh, goodness yes.” Kobuchi’s tone was light and conversational. As a scholar, she supposed he knew a good deal of the different regions’ histories. “Lemago is a fiefdom that has been established by spilled blood, you see. The empire started off as only one large city and a handful of surrounding townships. Through military campaigns, they have acquired much more land, accounting for about three-quarters of its entire circumference. Not only that, but different towns and villages are ruled by sub-leaders who take direct commands from the Emperor himself, and they are allowed to wage internal war on one another for control of more lands. Sometimes, when one of these ‘warlords’ gains too much power and influence, the Emperor employs Ninja to assassinate the warlord, and reassigns his lands and districts to other men in his employ,” Kobuchi went on. “Why do you ask, Ms. McNealy?”

She grinned hugely, keeping her toothy visage facing forward, away from the Kobold. “Because, we’re surrounded by hundreds of potential servants.”

Kobuchi drew up short, looked around over the top of the high grass, and then sprinted after Lain to catch up.

“You name it, it’s under our feet. And I think that will prove quite useful,” she declared, stopping in her own tracks.

She only budged about an inch when Kobuchi, looking down at the ground with a little trepidation, bumped into the back of her, his forehead planting hard into her buttocks.

“Do you mind,” she asked curtly, turning around to look at the Kobold.

“Sorry.” He shook his head.

Lain sent down her tendrils again, locating a buried horse. She tried to probe whatever might be left of its mind without raising it, but that proved too difficult. It had been dead too long, which she supposed would work to her advantage.

She drew forth her mana and sent a fork of black power into the ground.

The soil three feet ahead of her started to stir, splitting wide open, throwing dirt and rocks in every direction but at her and Kobuchi.

The completely skeletal remains of a horse, a large beast from the look of the bones, rose to its four feet in its shallow grave, its head standing a good foot above the unmarked path they traveled upon. It made a strangled whinnying sound, and shook its head, emptying its eye sockets of dirt.

Lain stretched out her hand, and patted the horse skull on the side. “Good. Get out of there,” she said to it.

The undead horse complied immediately.

Trembling, Kobuchi slowly backed away. She had raised the undead so easily, so effortlessly, that he worried for his own safety. She might prove to be more of a threat to him than anything they met in the Marshes.

Lain strapped her rucksack onto the spine of the skeletal steed, cinching the straps down tight. She then turned, her shadow streaming out over Kobuchi’s eyes as she took two steps toward him.

“What do you want?” he asked as she reached out one hand.

“Give me your bag. He’ll carry our things.” She used Kobuchi’s own ‘don’t you know that’ tone on him.

He huffed, and took the bag off, handing it up to her and watching with disgust as she tied his pack down behind her own, closer to the rear end.

“Don’t worry, he won’t run off. He is bound to me.” She started off once again northward.

Kobuchi followed right behind, and soon they were walking side by side, Lain taking her time, sniffing the fresh grass and the clean air, looking out far to the east and west at rice paddies and other vegetable crops growing not far away.

They walked on in comfortable silence until late afternoon, when they stopped to dine on a quick meal of salted meats and fruits that Kobuchi had packed.

“How late are we going to travel today,” Kobuchi asked Lain, who busily munched away on an apple.

She cocked her head up, considering his question, and then swallowed.

“Probably until around midnight. I’ve got a good internal clock for the late hours.”

“Right,” he said. “You Necromancers have your largest mana pull at midnight, right?”

Lain baffled him, though, by shaking her head and chuckling.

“Am I wrong?”

“Misinformed, more likely,” she said. “It’s a common myth that Necromancers hold all of our rituals at midnight like the witches of old. We actually can gather the most mana about an hour after midnight has come and gone. And don’t apologize; like I said, it’s a common misconception.” She took another bite of apple.

The sun cast long shadows in the dirt and grass, which had visibly shortened the father north they traveled.

“We’ll have to start bearing more eastward in a couple of hours or we’ll completely miss the Marshes. Come on.” She finished off the apple and tossed the spent core into the grass. “We’ve still got a few hours of daylight, and something tells me you don’t like the idea of traveling at night.”

“It’s only natural,” he said defensively. “My people don’t see very well in the dark, and I suffer terribly from it. I have to make use of my other senses to make up for my near-sightedness. You know, I once met a fellow whose senses sharpen the longer he remains silent,” he said as a conversational bit.

“Portenda the Quiet,” Lain said, nodding. “Never met the man myself. What’s he like?”

“A bit of a prick, actually,” Kobuchi said grumpily, sallying forth behind Lain and the undead horse, which followed her every direction. “A bit droll, and sort of moody, I’d say. The very first time I met him, he was in the process of saving a friend of mine, and freeing me from magical bondage.” He didn’t want to get into the specifics of his imprisonment. “However, I met him another time, with a young Alchemist, Mister Jonah Staples. He’s got a shop in your city, did you know?”

Lain nodded, knowing very well of Jonah Staples and his rather popular Alchemy shop. The young Human did a lot of business, and had a gorgeous Elven wife who helped him run the place. Lain had stopped in a few times to purchase healing potions, and found the shop empty and silent, with the exception of noise overhead. The two of them had a small storage room over the main shop, and apparently they used it for more than inventory.

“You were saying something about Portenda,” she prompted.

“Ah yes, meeting him the second time. It was a few days before young Jonah’s wedding.” Kobuchi once more checked the ground around them. His own shadow was lengthening still, telling him that the day was passing on and that evening, and then true night, would be upon them in only a couple of hours. “Portenda and I met with the groom’s other invited guests at one of the city’s banquet halls for a rehearsal dinner. The man groused through the whole thing, and didn’t have much of anything pleasant to say about anyone with the exception of the groom, his family, and myself. Everyone else seemed to somehow rub him the wrong way, and he let it be well known.”

“Really?” From everything she’d heard about the Bounty Hunter, he rarely spoke at such social gatherings, if he bothered to attend them at all. Unbeknownst to either of them, said Bounty Hunter was presently getting a beating from a particular Red Tribe Werewolf whom Lain had enjoyed the company of not too long ago.

“Oh yes. He was rather ill-tempered the whole while, with the exception of the time he spent speaking with Jonah’s parents. He seemed rather fond of them. I wonder if he has any family of his own?”

Lain didn’t offer an answer to his question, and they continued on in companionable silence until sunset.

Kobuchi closed the gap between them as soon as evening settled in, big and dark and threatening. Kobuchi knew that certain creatures in this region of Tamalaria were strictly nocturnal, and some of them came in varieties that he’d only ever read and seen paintings of.

Lain, on the other hand, looked forward to the coming of true night with an eagerness she hadn’t experienced in a while. She had been stuck in Desanadron for nearly three months, and hadn’t truly experienced the darkness of night for some time. She did feel a twinge in her heart, missing the closeness she usually shared at night with Thaddeus Fly, but she brushed the feeling aside. Got to stay focused, she thought.

A few hours later, as they approached a broad, flat valley just outside of the fiefdom, Lain and Kobuchi both heard the approach of heavy footsteps. They came to a halt, and Lain drew forth her magic, conjuring up another corpse from the soil, this one a zombie still clad in the armor the man had been wearing when he died.

She poured extra power into the creature, instantly evolving it into an Uberzombie.

The undead creature turned toward her, and bowed, its left eye hanging down from the tendon that held it in its head.

“What is thy bidding, my mistress,” the creature droned, standing up again.

She gave it a critical look, identifying it as having formerly been an Elf. A Solider Class or Knight Class. Not what I’d hoped for, but he’ll do.

“Scout ahead to the east, and see what you can see. I shall look on through your eyes.” She stepped forward and popping the loose eye into the creature’s socket.

Kobuchi felt his stomach clench up, and barely withheld the urge to vomit.

“Listen for my command, and follow it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, mistress.” The creature drew a rusty scimitar from its sheath. Off to the east it stalked with surprising speed.

“I say, that thing is awfully fast and intelligent for something you just raised,” Kobuchi said.

“I evolved it, that’s all.” She connected herself magically with the Uberzombie, seeing through its eyes as she closed her own, smelling through its half-rotted nose. She could almost hear its reanimated thoughts, but she pressed a barrier between her own mind and the undead servant’s, not interested in that just now. She listened instead to what it could hear, and as it plodded toward the east, she detected that it was closing on something heading in her own direction.

Watching through the Uberzombie’s perspective as it came to the upper lip of another hillock, she was startled to find a band of six Greenskins in heavy battle armor heading their way with weapons drawn.

Three Orcs, and three Hobgoblins, she counted, hearing the war cry they loosed as they spotted the Uberzombie.

Lain immediately cut the connection, and raised up ten more similarly clad undead Elves, casting her magic into them and making Uberzombies of them all.

Kobuchi watched her do this all with astonishment, awed by her pure lack of visible effort and the calm, collected way she commanded them all to head east and engage the Orcs and Hobgoblins.

They all saluted her haphazardly, one of the undead creatures burying its short sword into its forehead, since it only had one arm still attached to its body. It pulled the blade out of the shallow wound with a loud sucking sound, long coagulated blood running free again.

The collective stench of rotted flesh finally dragged an eruption of vomit from Kobuchi, who could bear the smell no longer.

“Oh Gods, are you all right?” Lain looked south at her diminutive companion.

He held up a hand at her, still bent double, feeling another wave of the stuff roiling around in his stomach and throat. He vomited a second time, and felt much better for it. “Better out than in, I always say,” he joked, laughing nervously. “What is it you said was out there again? Greenskin raiders?”

She nodded, and looked off to the east again. They heard the roars of battle, steel meeting steel, and the strangled, gargling sounds of Orcs and Hobgoblins dying painfully. Curses in a foreign tongue lashed the air, and Kobuchi flinched just a little. “Couldn’t you have told your men to just hurt them, or scare them off?”

“Greenskins are too dumb for that. Superstitious buggers, but that would only send them packing for reinforcements. Come along,” she said, clicking her tongue at the horse and moving northward again. “They’ve received my command to do as they like when they’re finished with the Greenskins. The first one shall return to us, however, and stand watch when we make camp tonight.”

Kobuchi shivered, revulsion at the idea of being guarded by an undead creature running up and down his heart and mind.

“Can we trust him enough to do that?” he asked tentatively.

Lain stopped marching and spun on her heel, ducking down to look him square in the face.

Uh-oh, the Kobold mage thought.

“My creations are not mindless drones, Kobuchi. Not even the simple zombies and skeletons I raise. He will do us no harm.” She stiffly turned on her heel again and marching northeast.

An hour later, the first Uberzombie indeed returned to them at a trot, holding an Orc’s severed head in one hand. He held it up to Lain, who smiled and patted him on the head like a dog. “Very good. Now, do you have a name?”

“None that I recall from life, mistress. What name do you wish for me to have?” the undead trooper asked as they walked.

“Your name shall be William. Now, William, scout ahead of us, northeast, and ensure our safe passage. When I call to you with my mind, return to us and stand watch while we rest. Understood?”

“Perfectly, mistress.” The trooper saluted after he sheathed his scimitar.

Another hour passed in silence, and Lain called to the undead warrior, whom she’d identified as a former Soldier Class Elf.

Kobuchi lit a fire for their camp with a simple spell, and they enjoyed a small meal of ration packets. The undead Soldier, William, patrolled in a wide circle around their tiny camp, and Kobuchi could, here and there, feel its dead eyes upon him.

“Something the matter?” Lain asked, unrolling her sleeping bag and pulling a small pillow out of her bag on the skeletal horse’s back. She pulled down Kobuchi’s bag, and handed it gingerly to him. She could see just from the look in his eyes, and the aura of fear he was giving off, that he felt completely out of his element. Not really surprising, is it, she thought. Any normal civilian would have shit their pants when I brought up the horse. And then William, and then a whole battalion of Uberzombies. I’m amazed he’s still sitting here with me, instead of hightailing it back to Desanadron or Palen.

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” He tried for a smile but came away with a grimace. “I’m just a little nervous, you see. William, as you call him, is your completely willing servant. I myself wasn’t much unlike him under Genma, my captor.”

“One big exception,” Lain said softly, looking at her undead servant. “You had a pulse and a soul. William talks and interacts, and he has a personality, but no soul, Kobuchi. He is not the same man he was in life.”

“How does that work, exactly?”

Lain explained. Any undead creature, be it a simple skeleton or zombie, or something like a Dread Knight or a Lich, had no true soul. The only exception in history, so far as she knew, had been Byron of Sidius. The undead creature, more often than not, was raised with a basic grasp of some of its living memories, and the influence of the Necromancer who raised it. The memories and the Necromancer’s will formed a personality for the undead servant, and thus, a new being was created, completely devoid of soul.

“I see, I think,” Kobuchi said.

“The undead servant’s Class, if they were an acknowledged Class at that, also weighs heavily in the personality makeup,” she said, sipping water from a skin. “You know, not all Necromancers are evil,” she said.

Kobuchi regarded her gravely, then looked into the fire. “I’m aware of that,” he said. “You don’t seem so bad, after all. Besides that, one of my pack mates was a Necromancer.”

“Pack mates?”

“It’s what we call our closest friends and family in Kobold society.” Kobuchi’s voice dropping in volume. “Kobolds are very tightly knit in family until our adolescence when we leave our parents,” he continued. He fell silent for a minute, until Lain asked him to continue. He told her of how between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, a Kobold leaves his parents, usually with his closest friends. They formed a pack, and referred to one another as pack mates, or in their native tongue, ‘surenmo.’ The pack would then go on a pilgrimage to another town or city, somewhere far from their parents. They could not remain within the same kingdom, city-state, or fiefdom as their parents for a period of no less than three years. After that, they could return, but most times they did not, and often times they picked up new pack mates along the way.

“So Kobolds rarely travel alone, I take it,” Lain asked.

“Nope. We’re pack creatures by nature, and only a few travel without at least a few others. My first pack had a Necromancer in our group, a great scholar of the undead. His name was Theodore Lagil, and while he didn’t wield a great deal of influence, he was very thorough in his studies. One day, he raised a Dread Knight, quick as a whip, and there it stood before us. Unfortunately, Teddy didn’t have much control over it, you see. As sometimes happens with raised dead, it went completely berserk, and tried to kill us all. Teddy had already used too much mana raising the creature, and then he went and traded his life force for more mana. He destroyed the Dread Knight.” Kobuchi heaved a sigh and wiping away the lone tear that betrayed him. “But it cost him his life, in the end. That’s mostly why I’m uncomfortable around the undead. Bad memories.”

Lain offered her apologies, but Kobuchi simply waved her off. “That’s life,” he said before curling up into his sleeping bag.

Lain lay down in her own, and they were both quickly asleep. That night, they each dreamed of failed experiments.

* * * *

At dawn, Lain felt something kicking against her feet in the bag. She rolled her eyes open, and saw William standing over her legs, preparing another light kick. “I’m awake, William, thank you. Could you think of a slightly nicer way of rousing me next time, please?"

“Sorry, mistress,” William groused. “Old habits die hard, as they say.”

“William, before we wake up Kobuchi, I want to know about your past, as a mortal.” Lain sat and rolled up her sleeping bag. “Tell me what you can remember thus far.”

“Hm, let’s see.” The Uberzombie removed its horned helmet and scratching the right side of its head. She could see now, in the daylight, the wound that had done him in as a mortal—a deep, horizontal slash across his throat stood out, caked with dried blood. It must have been a light sword that dealt the blow. A heavy sword, hatchet or axe would have decapitated a frail creature like an Elf.

“I served as a Soldier in the territory of Lord Ukitoki in the fiefdom you raised me in. He was a warlord of the southern districts, and waged internal war on his neighbors in the northern and eastern districts. I was felled in a battle against Lord Uzumo’s forces, who were among the most elite Samurai warriors I’d ever seen. My throat was slashed by one of their generals as he rode past me. As of now, that’s about all I recall, mistress,” William said.

“All right. Try to remember more, if you can.” She tucked her belongings into her sack and re-strapping it to the skeletal horse, who she had dubbed Bones. “I can probe your brain, but I’d rather not for now. I might make you my Personal Attendant eventually. Would you like that?”

The undead Solider merely grunted, and shrugged his death-stiff shoulders.

“Whatever you will, mistress, I shall obey.” He bowed to one knee.

Lain headed over to Kobuchi, and lightly shrugged his shoulder, which did the trick just fine.

“Come on, sleepy head. Time’s a-wasting,” she said.

Kobuchi helped her pack the rest of the camp, and then they were off again, with William ranging about half a mile ahead. One, at about mid-morning, the Uberzombie sent a mental warning back to Lain, and she and Kobuchi waited until he said it was safe to proceed again. When the two mages came by the spot where he’d sent the warning from, they found a slain thresherbeast, one of the land’s nastier monsters, laid out on the ground. William had apparently used his bare hands to rip the creature's head off, and Lain smiled at the sight of it.

“He’s good,” Kobuchi commented.

“Yes, he is. He’s got potential to be something much more than he is. We’ll have to see in the next few days.”

An hour after this, a little before noon, Lain called a halt to their march and brought William back with a summons. She took their break as an opportunity to write a letter to Fly, sticking it to the bird’s leg.

She had attached the pigeon’s cage to Bones, and opened the cage to stick the letter in the little tube, and send the bird off. It was a dot on the horizon to the west in only a minute’s time. They ate a short meal, and headed off again.

Forty minutes later, she smelled the marshlands through a brief connection with William, who now ranged a full mile ahead of them.

“We’re very close. Only a couple of miles to go, I think,” she said, navigating through a tall, wild wheat field amid the vast south-central plains. She called for William to stop his progress, and twenty minutes later, they exited the wheat field together, with the Marshes in plain sight ahead of them.

One dirt road off to the east of their position led into the marshlands, and Lain didn’t care much for the several sets of relatively fresh tracks on the road leading in.

“Those tracks.” Kobuchi headed over to the road, stood over a set of the tracks, and chanted several words under his breath, sending a wash of yellowish light over the footprints.

The light returned to his palms, and he closed his eyes for a moment concentrating. Lain walked over to the Kobold with William and Bones in tow, and stood to his side, waiting for a report.

“Two days old. There’s been no rain in the area for about a week,” he said, looking up at the gray storm clouds hovering closer and closer from the north. “My best guess is that there were four armed men, probably Paladins from the aura they left behind.” He plainly mulled over the reading. “Two Humans, one Elf, and one Sidalis.”

“Great. A mutant,” Lain grumbled miserably. “I don’t suppose that spell you used could tell us what powers he possesses, outside of his Paladin magic?”

Kobuchi shook his head regrettably.

“I thought not. It doesn’t matter. William?”

The undead Soldier stood straighter than before.

“If we come across them, I want you to wait for my command, understood? Do not respond to any of the Paladins’ threats unless I tell you to. Now, Kobuchi,” she said, addressing the Kobold as she looked to the marshlands. “Do you have any spells that will render us undetected by the Paladins?”

“I do indeed, but might I suggest that I look for them first,” he asked, smiling up at her.

“You can do that,” Lain asked.

“Yes indeed. I have the soil here, disturbed by their feet and not yet by our own. I can use this trace of their auras to track them down. It’ll take a while, though, I’m afraid.”

“That’s fine.” She sat and motioned for William to do the same. “Do your thing, Kobuchi, and tell me everything you find in the Lucara. I’m most interested in these Paladins.” Already, she was forming a strategy.

And so the two mages set about their separate tasks.

* * * *

Kobuchi summoned up the magic from within, and cast his Aura Tracker spell out from his forehead, sending it whipping over the ground into the marshes.

His field of vision was narrow in this initial tracking phase, and would be until it slowed down upon approaching the targets of his search.

He saw thick, gnarled black trees whiz past, sickly looking coyotes, thresherbeasts, roaming undead creatures, and caught brief glimpses of monsters he’d never seen before in all of his travels. Some of them were downright nasty looking, and some of them he thought might be abominations, creatures never meant to dwell in the realms of Tamalaria.

At one point, his tracker wove around a tree, and almost directly into the body of a Wraith, its pitch black writhing away from the magic, which was good. Such a creature might have been able to send the Aura Tracker spell back at Kobuchi, and ride along its tail to the Kobold and Lain.

Finally, after almost a half-hour, he felt and saw the tracker slow, turning this way and that. It came into a small clearing, if it could be called that, in the murky, muck-riddled marshlands.

Three of the Paladins had been fixed to giant stakes stuck in the ground, and they thrashed weakly against thick steel bindings. A creature danced and capered among them, each Paladin staked at a different point of a sort of triangle. The creature wore a garish black and white jester’s outfit, with a large, triple-pointed hat with bells on the tips jingling and jangling.

Kobuchi tried to focus more power into the tracker to gain an audio input, but found he could not. The tracker was pulling away, seeking out the fourth and final Paladin, somewhere out in these marshes.

The tracker found the fourth Paladin not far away, his breastplate and chest torn wide open. Kobuchi could see that the plating and flesh and bone had been blasted apart by some sort of spell or weapon, though what, he couldn’t say.

It was the Elf, that much he could tell from the pointed ears, which meant the Sidalis was among the imprisoned Paladins.

He snapped the connection with the tracker and let the magic fade away.

He had a proposal for Lain, though he didn’t think she was going to like it very much.

* * * *

“They’re helpless, Lain,” Kobuchi beseeched her, once again to no avail.

She stomped and paced back and forth in a straight line, wanting nothing more than to simply go into the marshes, locate the temple, and spend a couple of days studying its inner mysteries.

“We have an obligation to help them!”

“Why,” she raged at the Kobold, wheeling on him and grasping the lapels of his duster, hauling him easily up into the air to flail and kick out at her. “Do you really expect them to thank me? Hmm? Because they won’t, Kobuchi. Paladins are self-righteous assholes, every last one of them. They’ll try to convert me or kill me the second they’re freed! I won’t waste my time on them! They’re out of our way, they’re no threat to us, and that’s all I have to say on the matter!”

She set him down, and spat into the distance, settling the matter as closed in her book.

Kobuchi straightened his jacket, and harrumphed loudly.

“Fine! If you don’t want to help them, I will.” He started off for the Lucara Marshes.

William, Bones and Lain remained where they were for a full minute after the Kobold disappeared into the woods of the marsh.

“He’ll get himself killed, mistress,” William finally offered.

“Oh I know that,” she said. “I’m just trying to figure out if it’s worth saving the little bugger.”

Then the matter was settled for her. Arcane words of magic were shouted not far into the Lucara Marsh, words shouted in Kobuchi’s voice, and they were followed by a sudden, violent burst of blue light.

“All right, let’s go boys,” she said, and the three of them, Necromancer, undead mount and undead servant, sprinted toward the marshlands.

* * * *

“I’m impressed,” Lain said as she came upon Kobuchi, who was examining the bodies of three thresherbeasts. They appeared to have exploded from within, a neat display of power as far as Lain was concerned. Kobuchi stuck a small dagger into the ragged opening in one of the monsters’ bellies.

“Oh, this? Nothing much, really,” he said. “I simply raised the temperature of the acid sack in their bodies that they use to excrete their metal-eating saliva.” He poked the exploded organ he had just mentioned. It was a tiny thing, little more than a flattened balloon in appearance, with a thin, brown skin coating. “To tell you the truth, I’m a little more worried about the Wraiths and other denizens of these marshes. I’m sure there’s stuff living in the ponds and swamps themselves that could give us a nasty scare.”

“You’re probably right,” Lain said. “William, stick close. No ranging ahead. You’ll serve as a rearguard from here on out. Stay no more than fifteen yards behind me at all times, until there’s trouble. Then you come forward, sword a-swinging, got it?”

“Of course, mistress. Master Kobuchi, must you poke at that thing,” William growled, his voice suddenly thick and phlegm-laced.

The Kobold gave him a wry smile, poked the sack one more time, and then stood.

The three of them continued on, Kobuchi leading by just a little.

Lain felt the presence of the Wraith as they passed by, and sent a small streamer of her magic in its direction, letting it know that she was not a threat to it in any sense. While it did not respond, it also did not come any closer.

Kobuchi suddenly hissed through his teeth and crouched, signaling for Lain and William to do the same. The undead warrior had the horse with him, and he clouted it aside its head to get it to drop to the murky forest floor.

Between several trees, perhaps thirty yards ahead, Lain saw the trio of Paladins on their stakes, and the strange creature that pranced about between them.

Lain, Kobuchi and William all listened as the creature sang and pranced about, a wicked-looking curved dagger in its hand.

“Diddly-dee, diddly-do, I’m going to kill, all of you, a-hahahahahahahaaaa.” It leaped toward the Paladin to the right of the triangle and stabbing him hard in the armored leg.

The trio hidden in the bog watched the dagger stab through the armor with ease, and glide back out, dripping blood. To their surprise, no mark was left on the armor itself.

“How do you like that, Paladin? Do you enjoy the pain? DO YOU?” The jester-creature danced around in front of the Paladin like a loon, finishing his little number by performing a headstand and splitting his legs apart, twirling on his jester’s cap in the brackish mud. “Of course you do, of course you do! Hee hee hee heeee!”

“What the hell is it?” Lain was unable to identify the creature as anything more than a very pale man in a jester’s outfit.

When it turned and pranced over to the Paladin whose back was to the three of them, she saw that there were no eyes in the creature’s pale, grease-painted face. A huge, smeared smile had been painted or tattooed on its face, and two large red blotches graced its puffy cheeks, but she couldn’t say if it was truly humanoid.

Kobuchi squinted hard, and thought he knew what it was.

“It is a Grim,” the Kobold mage said. “They are strange creatures indeed. Not much is known about them, but they are something between a spiritual creature, and a demon. Not truly either one, but that’s basically how to best describe them.”

“How does one kill a Grim,” William asked, having come forward at Lain’s beckoning.

“I’m not entirely certain,” Kobuchi said. “The only recorded encounter with a Grim that resulted in the creature’s death was rather, well, odd. The Grim in question wasn’t hostile. It wandered into the city of Palen, and asked a Bishop to accompany it to its home, which as it happened was a small cottage north and east of the city. When they arrived, the Grim asked the Bishop to stand outside, and when he entered, he asked the Bishop to burn the cottage with the Grim inside. The Bishop was reluctant, but he did as he was asked, and the Grim was no more. It had simply turned into a pile of salt inside the blaze,” Kobuchi said.

“So we’re going on basically, what? Nothing?” Lain sounded pissed, but when Kobuchi looked her in the eyes, he saw a mischievous glint in her eyes. She looked him in the face, and he saw that she’d already formulated a plan of action in her head.

“Follow my lead,” she said, standing up to her full height.

She spoke to William out of the corner of her mouth and over her shoulder. “William, remain hidden until you receive my signal, understood?”

He didn’t respond audibly, but she felt him agree internally.

“All right little man,” she said, putting one hand on Kobuchi’s cowboy hat. “Let’s go.”

She led the way into the range of the Grim’s vision, if he had sense of sight. She assumed it did, since it seemed to now be staring right at her.

It twirled the knife in its hand gracefully, and thrust it quickly into the Paladin’s leg.

The Human screamed in agony, and tried to look around the gigantic stake he was bound to hand and foot.

“My my my, what have we here, dear.” The Grim shucked and jived, pumping its fists up and down and kicking its legs out from side to side like a man at a ho-down.

“Greetings, sir.” Lain spoke sweetly, bowing just enough to reveal some of her cleavage.

The Paladin to the left of the triangle glared at her, but she didn’t sense any malice in his stare. She could see him mouthing something at her, and when he repeated it, she could read the words on his lips; flee, run for your lives!

“I am Lain McNealy, Necromancer, and this is my associate, Kobuchi. He is a mage of many schools of magic, sir, and we were wondering what you were doing with these Paladins.” She tilted her hips to one side, planting her right hand on her hip. It was a stance she knew drove Fly crazy, along with most other men of her Race, and she felt a moment of triumph when the Grim leered at her and licked his lips with a forked, reptilian tongue.

“Why, my dear lady Necromancer, I’m having some fun with them! Yes, yes, some fun indeed, my dear lady.” The Grim performed four back-flips, and then a tumble roll, finishing off with a split, raising his arms to the sky.

He’s so, wiry, she thought, looking at the graceful jester’s movements.

Without using its arms at all, the Grim slid its legs in, scissoring them together and standing up. She looked to each Paladin’s face as she entered the triangle of stakes, and saw the disapproving scowls on each visage.

Hopeless buffoons, she thought. Do they really think I’m so bad? Never mind, I know the answer to that.

“Tell us,” said Kobuchi. “Why are you torturing these men?” The jester-thing, the Grim, waved its free hand over its face, and when it passed, two large, goggling purple eyes had been painted onto its formerly blank forehead.

“Why? Because I can, and because I hate Paladins.” The Grim did several cartwheels over toward one of the Paladins, the one on the left. This one hadn’t appeared to be very damaged, but Lain reminded herself that the Grim’s dagger didn’t touch the armor at all. “Always poking their noses where they don’t belong, forcing their religions on other people.” It poked the dagger into the underside of the Paladin’s foot.

The Sidalis, Lain thought, listening to the mutant scream.

The Sidalis looked mostly humanoid, with the exception of what appeared to be a row mouths along his bare forearms. These mouths all snapped and bit at the air, and she saw rows of jagged teeth in each mouth. One of the mouths shot some sort of spider webbing into the air, hitting nothing of use.

“They think they’re so holy, so righteous! Yet I challenge any one of them to say their own souls are completely untainted! You, however,” he said, turning and pointing his dagger directly at Lain. “You are a Necromancer! You not only acknowledge the darkness and sin in your soul. You embrace it! And that, my dear, is the whole point of this little exercise. To make them realize they aren’t so high and mighty!”

Kobuchi cocked his head to one side, and looked up into the miserable face of the Human Paladin who was suspended, bound with iron bands, to the stake nearest them. He looked young, even for a Human, and Kobuchi wondered what someone so clearly wet behind the ears had been doing in the Lucara Marshes in the first place.

Blood oozed out from the joints in his armor where the plating didn’t link together, and Kobuchi worried that the boy might bleed to death before they could save him. With their hands pinned down, palms facing the wooden stakes, they couldn’t cast any spells that would help them in any way. Aside from that, a sort of magical barrier seemed to be fixed to each binding.

Can I counteract that, I wonder? He might just have to try it.

“And if they admit the tarnish on their souls,” Lain asked coyly, bringing her arms up under her ample breasts, accentuating them.

The Grim leered at her again, and she could feel its vision fixed to the swell of her tits.

“Why, then they are free,” the Grim said. “Yes, I shall free them upon their words, I shall,” he shouted, cackling madly and doing another back flip. “Yes, just like I freed the other one! Ha ha!”

“You killed our fellow man,” the Sidalis Paladin shouted, spitting in the Grim’s direction. “He admitted the taint of his sins, and you destroyed him!

You there, woman,” the mutant called down to Lain. “You are to leave! Flee while you can, for this creature shall surely do to the two of you what he has done to us!”

“And how did he do this?” Lain bit the end of one finger teasingly, looking at the Grim. She could see a bulge in the front of its jester’s pants, and once more felt a moment of slight triumph. Living, dead, spirit, demon, or mortal, a man is still a man.

“I’m delighted you asked, my dear. You see, it was a simple matter of magic and conjuring.” The Grim waved his empty hand. A fourth wooden stake, enormous in size, shot out of the ground across from Lain and Kobuchi, complete with metal bonds. “After raising the stakes, I used other spells to affix them each to their own stake. You see, simple! Ha ha ha.” The creature tapped one of the bells on its hat with the tip of its dagger, and it jingled merrily. “Now, would you like to take a few free shots at these men, my lady Necromancer? I know how much their kind have bothered Necromancers throughout time, and this would be the perfect time to get some much deserved revenge! What do you say?”

“Oh, can I?” Lain put her arms behind her back and twisted side to side like a little schoolgirl. Kobuchi couldn’t help but wonder why she was acting this way, but then he looked at the Grim and saw the same bulge she’d spotted a minute ago. Criminy, some people have no shame, he thought. This might turn out to be easier than I thought.

“Of course, my dear lady! Do as you’d like to any of them! I shall remove myself from the stage for a moment, and you can have your way! Oh, do you know what would be magnificent? Their friend is only about fifty yards away to the east! Raise him, and use him to assail them! That’ll be a real treat.” The Grim laughed so hard that it dropped to the ground and started rolling, howling uncontrollably.

Lain didn’t want to do any such thing, especially if she expected any thanks from the living Paladins. Instead, she sent magical feelers into the murky soil, finding many bodies available, most of them animals.

When she’d located a few wolves and coyotes, her favorites, she raised them from the loose mud and muck, twelve of them in all. They all snarled deep in their rotted throats and stomachs, save for one that appeared to have no flesh left in its neck. This one, however, was so thickly muscled that she thought it might be some sort of freak of nature.

“My, my, that’s nice,” the Grim said. “But these gentlemen have armor on, in case you didn’t notice.”

Lain turned to Kobuchi, and smiled sweetly at him.

He took his cue, and started to bring forth his mana, pulling up a set of spells just for such an occasion. The bindings on the Paladins’ wrists and ankles might have been magically protected or binding, but the stakes sure weren’t.

Lain then turned and smiled angelically at the Grim, and sent a mental summons to William, who came charging out from his hiding spot.

“I know that. The animals and my servant here aren’t for the Paladins. They’re for you.”

She pointed one extended finger at the Grim. “Attack, my minions! Tear him apart!”

The Grim’s smile melted into a look of pure panic as the first of the undead wolves leaped at him, knocking him sprawling to the mud.

Kobuchi sent out several spells to eat at the wood of the stakes, and after less than half a minute, the Sidalis Paladin tore himself free.

He landed heavily in a gasping heap on his hands and knees, and Lain sprinted over to the right-hand Paladin, helping him down as best she could. The Paladin rested against her and the stake, and she panicked, hardly able to support even half of his weight. “Please, I’m going to drop you in a minute,” she panted.

“Go, go now, before he recovers,” the Human said weakly to her, his long, lank hair screening his pale face from Lain.

The Necromancer looked over at the Grim, and saw that he had managed somehow to regain his feet, and was hacking mercilessly at her undead animal servants, sending lines of crimson energy into their faces, splitting their heads cleanly in half.

Only half a dozen still remained, including the big fellow, who hadn’t yet taken a lunge at him. However, much to her satisfaction, the Grim had dozens of bleeding claw wounds and bite marks, and he seemed to be flagging quickly.

Kobuchi used a Slowfall spell on the Paladin they had emerged from the woods near, but knew right away it was a lost cause. The young Paladin had indeed bled to death while Lain used her feminine charms on the Grim, and he shook his head, saddened by the loss.

The Sidalis, he saw, had gained his feet, and was shambling over to Lain and the other survivor.

Kobuchi used his Rush of Might spell on the Sidalis, and as soon as the magic speared into the mutant’s chest, he stood upright and marched hurriedly over to Lain and his ally. The Kobold sprinted over to join them, and turned to see William leap over the last four undead animals, scimitar plunging down into the Grim’s head, splitting it clean to the chest.

The air stilled for a long minute, and the Grim dropped to the ground. As soon as it hit, there was a loud, ear-shattering explosion of noise accompanied by a flash of darkness. What was left in the Grim’s place, was a high pillar of white salt.

Three of the undead coyotes perished in the blast, but the big, freakish undead wolf remained, as did William.

Kobuchi and Lain backed a few paces away from the Paladins, and Lain summoned William, Bones, and the huge wolf zombie to stand behind her.

The Sidalis and surviving Human stood arm in arm, staring at Lain like she was some new species of wildlife.

“We, are eternally, in you debt, Necromancer,” the Sidalis said. “And yours as well, Kobold. Tell us, what, are your names?”

“I am the Necromancer, Lain McNealy.” Lain gave them a shallow curtsy, lifting invisible skirts.

“And I am the mage, Kobuchi.” The Kobold gave them a sweeping bow, taking off his cowboy hat and swinging it to one side.

“We were happy to be of help,” Lain said.

The Sidalis did something rather unexpected then; he came forward, and embraced her, wrapping his huge, many-mouthed arms around her.

She felt strange tongues press against her exposed neck for a moment, and realized they were kissing her. The Sidalis let her go after a mighty clap on the back that almost knocked the wind out of her. “Um, you’re welcome,” she said awkwardly.

The Paladins looked at one another, and then once more at Lain McNealy.

“Miss, we cannot thank you enough for what you have done. We surely would have died a very slow death at that creature’s hands.” The Human Paladin said, using a healing spell on himself, and then the Sidalis. “We are Paladins of Sunemo, the great and mighty God of quest and discovery, cousin God to Aeros, the wind Goddess.” The Human put one last spell on himself.

“What were you doing out here, if we might ask?” Kobuchi patted the hulking wolf-zombie on the head. It made some sort of satisfied sound in its diaphragm, the rumble vibrating all the way up to its partially rotted head.

The Sidalis cleared his throat, and spoke up on this subject.

“We were sent by our headmasters to this marshland in order to map it for our order,” the Sidalis said. “You may or may not be aware of this, but there are no existing maps to be found of the Lucara Marshes. Our mission was handed down to us by the headmasters in the township of Munasinto, to the east and south of here. The idea for the mission, however, came to our eldest in his dreams a week ago. Sunemo speaks with his children in this manner, miss,” the Sidalis said, a tad embarrassed.

“I’m sure he does,” Lain replied with a gentle smile. “Necros and Necrophite speak with their followers in much the same fashion, only we go into trance-like states when they speak. It’s part of why we always keep a couple of guards on hand while we travel.” She indicated Bones, William, and the wolf zombie. She decided, rather suddenly, that while she would certainly get rid of Bones before returning home, she wanted to keep William and the mutt around.

She sent a mental message to the undead wolf, and informed it that its new name was to be Patches, since he was missing large patches of flesh and meat.

The wolf made a strangled growling noise, as if to disapprove, but she gave it a stern, warning glance and it lowered its head, defeated. Have I ever evolved an undead animal, she wondered? I think I shall, after our business at the temple is done.

The surviving Paladins stood apart, and adjusted their armor, scanning the ground for something or other.

Kobuchi found what he thought they might be looking for, and pointed to two large spears lying near the murky forest around them, to the east where their other dead companion lay at rest. They thanked him, and strapped the weapons to their backs, popping them into metal hoop attachments on their armor.

“We once more give you our thanks, but we must leave this place, at once,” the Sidalis said. “We must inform the elder and our headmasters that this place is too dangerous for initiates such as ourselves. We don’t even have a good deal of offensive spells at our disposal yet. Peter did,” he said, speaking clearly of the dead Elf. “But that, jester-creature did away with him before we had a chance to respond to his hijinks. Come, Galler.” He put his arm around the Human once again. “We must go and report the loss of our kinsmen. The best of luck to you, Miss. May your Gods smile upon you.”

That was a phrase Lain didn’t usually hear from Paladins. Usually they said ‘may our God smile upon you’, replacing the words our God with the name of said deity, and their tone was usually condescending.

With the Paladins disappearing into the gnarled, murky woods to the south, Lain looked off east, through the thicket. She glanced down at Kobuchi, who was asking William to hand him his bag, which the Uberzombie did without complaint.

Kobuchi rummaged around, took out a small wooden box and handed the bag to William. “Hold onto this for a moment,” he said, and headed over to the pile of salt that had once been the Grim. He put on a leather glove he had tucked into his belt, and scooped up a small sample of the salt, pouring into the wooden box and then locking it shut. He came back, stuffed the box into the bag, and slung the sack onto his back. “Thanks a bundle, Big Bill,” he said.

“Don’t call me that,” William replied darkly. “My name is William.”

“Oh come on,” Lain said, giving her servant a companionable shove. “I think Bill would be acceptable at least, right?”

The Uberzombie sighed, sagged his shoulders, and nodded, closing his lids over his eyes for a second.

“But no Big Bill, Kobuchi.” She waggled a finger at him as the sun shone for a moment through the gathering clouds overhead.

The first droplets of rain pattered down on the clearing, and Lain started into the woods. “Come on, we don’t want to stick around out of cover with the rain coming. It looks like it’s going to be a big one.”

She led the way with Kobuchi next to her on the right, Patches on her left, and William leading Bones in the rear.

* * * *

The rain pounding down on the Lucara Marshes seemed to be able to ignore what little coverage the bent, blackened walnut trees were able to provide. In less than an hour, Lain McNealy was completely drenched, her long blue jeans and black short-sleeved shirt plastered to her curvy body.

Kobuchi shivered a little in the rough wind coming out of the north, but his duster kept the rain off of skin, and the cowboy hat kept it from his head. He’d applied special oil to them both, and the water simply ran and pattered down and off of his exterior clothing.

He wondered for a moment how Lain dealt with the rain and the cold, and looked up at her to find she was shivering ever so slightly. Her nipples bulged out from behind the thin material of her shirt, hard and large in the deep chill of the wind and rain.

“You know, I’ve got a wonderful spell to keep the rain off of you, if you’d like,” he offered weakly, his eyes locked on her feminine assets.

“No, thanks,” Lain replied, rubbing her exposed forearms for warmth. “I haven’t been out in weather like this in a while and I actually rather enjoy it.” She flipped a hand against her long bangs to clear them from her eyes. “Besides, I’ve got a change of clothes and a slicker in my bag if I need them. The challenge there is getting someplace dry to change. It shouldn’t take long, though,” she said, turning their small company northward once again. “The temple is nearby—maybe a half an hour away.”

Kobuchi nodded, then turned his attention to the path once more.

Scraggly looking coyotes, half-starved and possibly rabid, lined up along the sides of the path up ahead, but they didn’t seem too interested in the mages or undead.

The group passed by them without incident, and he let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t care for canines of any breed much, with the possible exception of Patches. The undead wolf seemed rather amiable, now that there was nothing threatening its master.

Half an hour later, the company came upon a vast clearing, in the middle of which stood a two-story stone structure.

Kobuchi felt arcane power emanating from the structure. “It’s the Temple of Unaki.” He recognized the temple’s front from a sketch in a book on the various religions of Tamalaria written by Vandabar Swellskin.

“Yes, it is.” Lain pouted and nodding at the Kobold mage. “I’m impressed by your wealth of knowledge. I’ve been here twice before.” A vaguely confused look came over her face. “I don’t remember it being so centrally located, though.”

“What do you mean,” Kobuchi asked.

“Well, it’s almost like it’s moved from the last time I was here. Of course, that was almost six years ago,” she said. “And the time before that, I was only fourteen, six years before that I think it was. The place seemed a lot bigger then.”

Slowly, reverently, she moved forward.

She beckoned to her servants to come with her. Kobuchi stayed at her right side a foot away. He stared upward at the stone structure, and saw a tall spire rising atop the back end of the building. This spire reached a good hundred yards up into the sky above the roof.

“I came here to complete my initial training the first time.”

“When you were fourteen?” Kobuchi could hardly believe it, because as far as he knew, most Humans remained with their parents until the age of eighteen or so. “How long ago did you start practicing Necromancy?”

“Oh, when I was about ten.” She led him and her servants to the large double doors at the front of the structure.

Kobuchi stared at her with wide, awe-filled eyes.

“I went with my mother and father to my aunt Kate’s funeral, and when I touched her arm in the casket, I felt some sort of pulse in my head. I didn’t know what I was doing, and I inadvertently raised her from the casket.”

Lain laughed a little at herself, and the memory of what had happened on that warm September afternoon. “It caused quite a commotion, and nobody knew what had happened, exactly. I think my mother may have suspected, but she never said anything.”

“What exactly happened,” Kobuchi asked quietly.

“Well, aunt Kate sat up in the casket, and then lifted the lower part. She flopped out onto the floor with this thick, wet, smacking sound, like raw chicken hitting the kitchen floor after it’s been soaking in marinade.” She made it a question with the lift of her tone near the end.

Kobuchi nodded, familiar with the exact sound she was trying to convey.

Lain laughed, and proceeded with her story, just staring ahead at the double doors that lead into the Temple of Unaki. “Well, she stood up and started shambling toward the preacher that was giving the sermon, and she grabbed his robes up and threw him over the casket into the back of the pulpit area. Then my dad, who mind you was a trained Soldier in his day, and a guard in the town, he ran up and cut Kate’s head off. There was all kinds of blood, and everybody screamed and threw up, including my father. They put her back in the casket and used tie-downs to secure it, and they carried her right out back to her grave. They didn’t even have a eulogy of any kind, which was too bad,” Lain said. “I’d written a really nice one.”

“Really?” Kobuchi asked.

Lain reached out and touched the doors, which Kobuchi saw had no visible handles or knobs. The left one gave off a purplish glow, and opened smoothly, soundlessly.

“Oh yes.” She headed back to Bones and gathered her bag. “I wrote a letter blaming her for all of the crappy presents and slobbering kisses she planted on me.” She hitched the bag onto her shoulders, and looked at Kobuchi, whose jaw hung stupidly open.

“What? I was ten and I was selfish. Still am, for the most part,” she amended, dropping her volume a little. “Bones, Patches, you shall remain out here. Patches, if anything out of the ordinary comes along, you get in here and warn us, okay?”

The zombie wolf yipped happily, and lolled its maggoty tongue. Little white insects crawled around in its mouth, and she decided she’d have to do something about that. “Go get some water first, wash out your mouth. Okay?”

Once more the wolf yipped, and headed off to look for a puddle.

Lain walked inside, followed by Kobuchi, and then William in the rearguard position once again.

The main entrance hall was large and plain, stone columns reaching from the floor all the way up to the ceiling, two stories above. They flanked a long, golden carpet that led down the center of the aisle, and at the far end, about two hundred yards away, stood a large altar of some sort, with a stone sculpture of some odd creature.

Unaki, Lain thought as she gazed upon its countenance. A knee-high pedestal stood before the statue, with a nine-candle candelabrum set in its center. There were no actual candles in the holders, but Lain knew where there would be some.

“It hasn’t changed a bit,” she said quietly, somberly. “Not in six years.” She then thought better of this, because when she had left the temple six years ago, she had left nine half-burned candles on the altar.

“Well, there’s the one thing,” she mumbled. She stalked forward, and then turned to the left when they actually made it about twenty yards down the aisle. There was a small changing room of sorts there, and she headed toward it. “Hang tight right there,” she said. “I’m just going to change. William, keep watch over Kobuchi.”

She headed over to the little room, entered, and set her bag on the one wooden bench inside. A full-length mirror stood on the door behind her, and she stripped off her sopping clothes, turning to take a look at herself in the mirror. She turned this way and that, appreciating the way her body curved in all the right places. She turned around again, and reached into the bag, pulling out one of her long, flowing black evening dresses, the typical garb for a female Necromancer.

She pulled it on over her head, and smoothed the front of it. She turned back to the mirror, and blew herself a smooch in its reflective surface. She grabbed a separate bag from within her rucksack, treated with oil like Kobuchi’s hat and coat, and stuffed the wet clothes inside, setting the whole ensemble back into her rucksack.

She came back out into the temple, and found Kobuchi standing where she’d left him, craning his neck to peer up at the ceiling. He appeared to be looking at one thing in particular, and when she looked up to see what it was she stopped in her tracks.

Hanging perhaps one hundred feet over Kobuchi and William’s heads, suspended on some sort of thin length of thread or webbing, was a creature with the heavy body of some sort of man-frog. Its flesh, green and spotted all over with brown ovals, looked slick in the light of the torches that burned eternally along the walls of the temple. Four arms poked out of its sides, and in each one it held a blunt wooden club with spikes driven through them. Wide, amphibian eyes stared down at the Kobold, eyes full of malice and hunger.

“Get out of the way,” Lain shouted, and that finally seemed to break whatever paralysis had come over the Kobold and the Uberzombie.

Kobuchi broke left, toward Lain, while William leaped the other way, standing across the wide aisle from his mistress and the Kobold mage. The four-armed monster landed heavily on the floor’s golden carpet in a crouch, each arm waving its weapon defensively to keep the three of them at bay.

“What the hells is that thing,” Lain asked, finally seeing the long line that it had suspended from was actually some sort of retractable tail, thin and scaly. She shivered at the sight of the forked tip of the tail as it pulled back toward the body of the monster. A segment of the stone ceiling had come with it, and stone dust still drifted down from the pierced ceiling.

“I’m not sure, I’ve never seen anything like it.” Kobuchi summoned his mana and cast a defensive barrier spell in front of himself and Lain. “Some of Genma’s Alchemy beasts were rather strange, but I could identify them at least from their components.”

He winced as the four-armed monstrosity charged at them and slammed all four of its clubs into the force barrier two feet in front of them. “Whatever it is,” Kobuchi said, feeling the barrier waver and tremble, “it’s strong!”

William charged up behind the creature. Without even rolling its side-mounted eyes back, it lashed its forked tail at him, knocking the Uberzombie back with ease as it crashed into the barrier once again.

Kobuchi prepared an offensive spell, an Aquamancy burst that he hoped would discourage the creature from attacking them so menacingly. Before he could release it, the creature struck once more, and the barrier shattered apart like glass.

Lain, her mind flooding with possible solutions, backed away as Kobuchi planted his feet in a wide stance and cried out. “Asa mencrifer! Rolling Bubble!”

Kobuchi slapped his hands once and raised them toward the ceiling, where a bubble of water formed and dropped atop the amphibian menace.

There was a loud splash as the bubble surrounded it entirely, and as it thrashed against the exterior of the water bubble, it started to swirl and roll toward the wall at the back of the temple.

Lain, Kobuchi and William sped to the center aisle, and watched as the creature crashed headlong into the stone wall next to the altar. There was a cacophony of sound as the splashed to the floor and the monster roared in pain and frustration. However, it kick-flipped to its webbed feet, undeterred, and started to charge at them again.

William stood before Lain and Kobuchi, who opened his mouth as he shook his head. “That should have killed it,” he whispered.

“Well, clearly it didn’t,” Lain exclaimed as William shoved her and Kobuchi back, engaging the amphibian in melee combat as the mages thought over their next move.

Lain watched as William was pummeled time and again in his exposed sides by spiked clubs. He might not feel pain, but his scimitar didn’t seem capable of cutting into the monstrosity.

“I think it may be immune to physical attack.” Lain backed quickly toward the door, where Patches had stuck his head in and was growling at the creature menacing its master.

“Then we’ve got to use magic,” Kobuchi said. “I’m reluctant, though, Ms. McNealy, because I don’t want to damage the temple. Unaki is said to still reside within this structure, possibly in that statue.” He pointed across the temple to the sculpture at the altar.

Lain could almost feel the presence of the old, forgotten God of the undead and Necromancers, and wondered if Unaki might be watching this conflict right now, from the spirit realm.

“I’d hate to have a God angry at me, old and forgotten or not,” he added.

“Don’t worry too much about it.” She flinched as the monster knocked William roughly aside with two left-handed roundhouse strikes. “I don’t think Unaki will mind too terribly.”

Kobuchi nodded, and yelled to William to stay out of the way.

The amphibian creature closed the gap between them at startling speed, its forked tail lashing behind it at William again.

Lain watched with wonder as her Uberzombie servant caught the forked tail in his hands, and started to drag back on it. The tail extended behind the creature as it closed in on her and Kobuchi, but after twenty yards, the creature was jerked back, shock registering clearly in its alien face.

Kobuchi stepped forward, and muttered darkly under his breath. “Su, na, ka, fa, su, na, ka, fa.” He made odd gestures with his fingers. To Lain they appeared to be little diagrams. Each shape flashed in the air over his head for a moment before disappearing.

“Su, na, ka, fa, su, na, ka, fa.” Kobuchi thrust both hands, fingers spread, toward the beast, and roared, “Fly forth, arrows of fire, ice, wind and rock! Fly forth, and destroy mine enemy!”

Hundreds of shimmering, elementally charged magical arrows flickered into existence, firing in a steady stream from his outstretched fingertips and piercing the monster’s body. Jets of spurting blood streamed from it and in no time, the amphibian menace was reduced to a pockmarked, hole-riddled mess of blood and gore.

“Sulu maten, anso,” Kobuchi growled, and a forearm blade of ice formed over his right arm. Kobuchi darted forward as the creature, still managing to stay mostly upright despite its damage, dropped to its knees, and he sprinted past on its right side, tearing the forearm blade right through half of its torso.

The creature vomited blood and chips of ice, and fell dead to the stone floor.

Panting, Kobuchi dropped onto all fours, and stayed there for a moment as the blade on his arm melted into a harmless puddle on the stones. “Kobuchi, are you all right?” Lain was frankly amazed that so much magical power resided in such a small creature.

The Kobold got up and shuddered. He picked up his hat, which had fallen off when he fell, and popped it back onto his head.

“I’ll be fine. Look, let’s just do whatever you came here to do, and get going. This is one marshland I don’t want to hang around in much longer. You say you trained here at fourteen?”

“Yup.” Lain moved now toward the altar and reached under the pedestal for the box of candles she knew would be there.

She pulled out nine plain, long white candles, and set each one in a holder in the candelabrum. She searched in her dress pockets for the book of matches she usually kept there, coming up with bupkes.

Kobuchi approached, and leaned forward, touching the wick of each candle with one fingertip, setting them burning.

“Thanks, Kobuchi. Yes, these used to be my old stomping grounds, I guess.” She knelt before the altar, bowing her head slightly. She kept her hands planted on her knees, and listened for the tiny voice she heard each time she’d come here, presumably the voice of Unaki, the forgotten Necromancer God.

“I see. Look, do you, um, want some privacy?” he offered awkwardly. “I just, well, don’t feel right being here while you do your thing.”

Lain kept her head down but smiled wryly.

“Go ahead. Send in Patches when you go out, but keep Bones outdoors. He shouldn’t be part of this.”

The Kobold mage headed down the aisle, the golden carpet slick and wet where the monster’s blood had soaked through. He spat harshly on the corpse, and a few minutes later, Lain felt Patches nuzzle her neck with his cold, wet snout. Muddy water clung to the matted fur of his snout, and she thought it might be trying to smile at her.

She patted his head, and cooed at him, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

Patches yipped aloud, and waggled his tongue at her. The maggots had been washed free, but his breath still positively reeked.

No helping that, she thought belatedly. He’s a dead wolf for goodness’ sake.

She returned her attention toward the altar, listening for the voice of Unaki.

Pleasantly, she wasn’t disappointed.

‘Greetings, believer,’ it said in her mind.

She felt the power of the forgotten God swell within her breast, and she let the power waver up and down her body, searching her body and soul.

‘Why have you come,’ it asked.

I have come to offer you mana, as is custom for my people, she sent mentally to the statue. She summoned up mana from her internal reserves, and sent it, formless, into the statue.

She felt more than heard the intake of the God’s breath as the mana reached into the statue, finding its external, physical housing, and then weaving its way to the astral spirit of the God within.

‘It is not a custom oft practiced by this new generation of Necromancers,’ the voice echoed in her mind. ‘Quite rarely, in fact. You have been here before, twice,’ the voice said. ‘The first time out of simple curiosity, the second time to offer mana, as now. Yet you have not asked me for anything in return,’ she heard.

To do so would be an offense to your greatness, Unaki, she sent, with no trace of floor-licking for brownie points.

She genuinely wanted to keep in good with Unaki, because aside from her own primary God of worship, Necros, she wanted to have another greater being to draw power and wisdom from.

‘I don’t think it would be so terrible, Lain McNealy,’ the voice of Unaki said clear as a bell. ‘I recognize your power, your potential, and your purpose. Thou art not wicked of soul or mind, though, I sense you feel lost in your life’s course,’ Unaki said.

Indeed, I do, just a little. I can sense that a time of trouble shall soon be upon the lands of Tamalaria once again, and I worry greatly. There are no heroes left, it seems, to protect the lands.

‘No, not since the Dread Knight and Paladin creature,’ Unaki said. ‘He was the last great hero of Tamalaria. Also, those in his fellowship are either dead, or much too busy with their own lives to deal with the coming threat. I know of it, Lain McNealy, and I tell you this; another hero shall rise into the light of the coming conflict. Rest assured, she shall.’

You already know who this hero is, Lain blurted, surprised.

‘Yes, I do. I shall tell you her name, but you must keep it secret and to yourself. When her time comes, you shall have to be there to aid her in her quest. It is still several years off, and by then, your powers shall be unmatched as a Necromancer.’ The temple around Unaki trembled with the God’s presence and power. ‘But be warned, as well, Lain McNealy. Yours shall not be a permanent place by her side. You shall give her aid, her and the other who shall accompany her, but then you must stand aside. If you do not, you shall be slain. Do you understand all that the great and forgotten Unaki has said unto you?’

I do, and I accept your wisdom.

The forgotten God whispered a name to her, and then Lain felt it begin to depart from her presence.

Wait, she called out to it. Is there no way for me to take you with me? Must I constantly return here to hear your voice? These are dangerous lands, and I would take comfort in your closeness back at my home!

“I cannot go with you,” the voice said.

Lain opened her eyes, turning to face William, whose mouth was open. Unaki was using him as a vessel for his voice, she realized, and turned to face her undead servant.

“I must remain here, to hold down the spirit creature that is imprisoned beneath this temple. And though I am certain it pains you to do so, I must ask that you leave this creature behind. There is much use I have for it here inside the temple, to keep and ward this place from monstrosities like that which tried to kill you,” Unaki said through William’s throat.

Lain felt a pang of regret, but then felt Patches nuzzle her neck with his snout and whine softly. His eyes, so large and filled with a dim sort of intelligence, gave her a spark of hope. He’ll do, she thought, stroking the big wolf’s head.

“I understand your request, and relinquish command of William, Uberzombie raised by my hand and will, to you, great Unaki. I shall return whenever I am able, and give you my offering of mana.”

She gave William, who currently housed the spirit of the great and forgotten Necromancer God, a low sweeping bow. “By the way, how will I know when to go to the girl?”

“You won’t have to,” Unaki said. “She shall be guided to you. The Gods above, those still remembered and worshipped, shall see to that. Now, go with my blessing, child of the dead. Remember why the Necromancers first came to the world of Tamalaria.” The God left out the part about the other continent far to the south, Tallowmere.

Lain bowed once more and beckoned Patches after her.

He strode along contentedly at her side, head bopping from side to side as they exited the temple.

Kobuchi, sitting cross-legged a few yards away from the doors, had a heavy notebook in his lap, and was busily jotting down notes on their brief but interesting journey.

“Are you ready to head back to Desanadron,” she asked him, and Kobuchi put up one finger to stay her.

The door slammed shut behind her, closing the temple.

“Almost,” he replied, his voice high and squeaky. “I’ve just got to finish up the bit here about dealing with that, that frog-thing inside and I’ll be ready to go. Where’s William?”

“He’ll be staying behind,” she said, summoning Bones over to her. She sent a thin line of black power into the skeletal horse, and it collapsed into the mud, broken and truly lifeless once more.

“Patches will be coming back with us, however.”

Kobuchi looked up from his musings, and gave the zombie wolf a considering look.

“He might not make it through the process of the spell, you understand,” Kobuchi said. “When we show up on the other side, he may be, well, scattered.”

Lain considered this for a long moment, and looked up at the night sky. She’d written Fly and told him that they had used a Teleport Spell to make for rapid travel. He hadn’t written back yet, but he probably expected they’d travel back the same way. She had come out here seeking some time away from the Guild, but in truth, her heart called out for her home in the big metropolis of Desanadron.

She looked down at Patches, and wondered how her lover would take it, her keeping it around as her new Personal Attendant.

Something struck her as a bit odd then about Patches. When she had first felt him nuzzle her by the altar, he’d only had a brief spark of intelligence in his eyes. Now, however, he was looking back and forth from the Kobold to her, following their conversation.

‘A little gift,’ she then heard, the voice coming from behind her, through the temple’s doors. ‘I have evolved him for you. He shall serve you well. But the name, honestly.’ The forgotten god chuckled to itself inside her mind. I don’t think he’s going to put up with that much any more.

“Also, Kobuchi,” Lain said aloud. “I think I’m going to give him a new name. Any suggestions?” Kobuchi finished his notes, and gave the wolf a long, hard look.

“Only one comes to mind,” he said. He smiled ruefully at the undead wolf, and stood up, packing his notebook into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. He started to make the mana preparations for the Teleport Spell to take them back to Desanadron, and chuckled a little to himself.

“Oh,” Lain said, approaching with the wolf. “And what’s that?”

“I was thinking Brock,” Kobuchi said. “That was the name of my Cocker Spaniel when I was little. But he was an idiot,” Kobuchi said. “I think this fellow’s a tad smarter than your average Cocker Spaniel. Besides, he’s not even really a dog.”

“What do you think, big guy,” Lain said, looking down at the undead wolf. “Brock okay?”

The undead wolf seemed to smile, and gave them both a happy yip.

“Brock it is. Take us home, Kobuchi.”

The Kobold summoned up the circles of light, and then came the flash, and the trio was gone.

* * * *

“You sure you spent enough time there?” Fly wrapped his arm under Lain’s head in his bed, enjoying the feel of her pressed against his side.

“Yes, I’m sure.” She kissed him once, quickly, on the cheek.

“That’s good, that’s very good dear. Now, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Sure, Tad. What did you need,” she asked sweetly.

Thaddeus Fly sat up, and pointed at the creature lounging now on their feet.

“Get that goddamned dog off the bed!”