Far to the north, a boy walked through the woods on his fifteenth birthday. He was skinny and pale, with dark hair and dark eyes that definitely weren't red from crying. He had a small sack of clothes, tied in a bundle at the end of a long stick that he rested on his shoulder. As he walked, the forest grew darker. The trees got taller, thicker, and older, looming over him, casting the forest in perpetual shadow. Derek didn't mind. He'd always been able to see pretty well in the dark. It wasn't any skill he'd earned, it was just the way he was. He probably got that from his father.

  The path grew windy, the bushes around it grew thorny. There was a very strong "go away" feeling about the place. Must be in the right direction, Derek thought, ma always said it was like this. He paused at that thought, staring blankly at a thorn bush for a time. Then he shook himself and started walking again.

  He journeyed for a long time, eventually making his way to a large mansion, sitting quietly in the middle of the woods. It looked quite imposing. It was several stories high, with walls of large stone blocks. There were turrets on the four corners, and the main entrance was a huge stone staircase with life-sized gargoyles lining each side. Before the entrance, there was a front lawn separating the mansion from the trees. About a dozen ghouls were tending to the gardens, cutting the grass and weeding the flower beds. One ghoul held a watering can.

  He'd been warned about this too. It wasn't too scary for him. Derek had come across death and undead creatures before. They were just... creatures. Same as any other. They never seemed to bother him, and he likewise didn't feel bothered by them. He definitely got that from his father.

  Derek made his way past two skeleton sentries, standing on either side of the path. They were holding bows, and one of them nodded to him as he walked between them. The dirt path turned to cobblestone a it wound across the lawn, and then into stone steps leading up to a large front door. The door itself was guarded by a very muscular ghoul wearing chainmail and holding a halberd. It didn't respond to Derek at all, so the boy gently nudged the ghoul aside, and knocked on the front door.

  It opened.

  "I didn't call for anyone today, who could possibly—"

  Derek looked up at the tall, gaunt, pale-faced man standing in the doorway. He was a tall man, and finely dressed, wearing an expensive suit and even had a cape dangling from his shoulders. He had Derek's dark hair and pale complexion.

  "Oh."

  "Hi, um, dad. It's me. Derek."

  The tall man loomed down, studying Derek's face with a frown.

  "Well, yes, you must be one of mine. But who... Beatrice?"

  "Bella."

  "Oh, Bella! How is she?"

  Derek shuffled his feet.

  "She's dead. The plague got her."

  "Ah. Pity, pity. And where is she?"

  The man was looking over Derek's shoulder, craning his neck, searching around.

  "Uh... I buried her."

  The man pulled his head back, looking at Derek in alarm.

  "You what?"

  Derek didn't even see the man move. One minute they were standing a polite distance apart, the next minute Derek's father was standing inches away, his hand reaching out to Derek's mouth and pulling his lips apart. Derek stood still as his fangs, slightly longer than a regular human's should be, were carefully examined.

  "Hmm. The right signs are there. You buried your mother? In the ground? Never in all my days. I guess you grew up with too much human influence. We'll have to beat that out of you. Mark my words, young..."

  "Derek."

  "Derek. Here's your first lesson from me. Never bury the dead. That's a ridiculous human notion. Every corpse is an ally waiting for..."

  The man leaned even closer to Derek, the stern frown on his face never wavering.

  "Leadership. Left alone, a corpse is a useless thing. Animated, it's not much better. That is, until we step in. You and I. We are lords of the dead. Well," the man corrected himself. "I am. You will learn in time, I dare hope. Come."

  With that, the man beckoned Derek to follow him inside and then walked off, muttering incredulously about buried mothers.

  Derek looked back at the woods, the wandering dead, and the manicured gardens. One of the ghouls looked up from watering a bush to stare at Derek. There was no expression, just a vacant stare as water continued to sprinkle out of the can. Derek supposed that was how it said hello. He gave a quick wave, just to be polite, then turned and entered the manor.

  "Over there, to the left, there's... one ghoul, two skeletons. One skelly has a bow."

  Hepp, standing in his crow's nest, had become the lookout for the group. He called out the incoming undead, and the others sprang into action. Gretta charged forward with a yell, drawing the skeleton archer to target her. The sound of an arrow pinging against solid metal rang out. Gretta ducked low, and Jane threw two icebolts over the dwarf's shoulder at the archer. One missed, but the other smacked it right in the skull, shattering it.

  With the archer down, Zig raced forward holding his club. "Left," he called out, taking a few more steps and swinging his club. There was something wonderful in attacking a skeleton. No blood and guts going everywhere, just a spray of bone fragments, along with a satisfying crunch as his weapon connected with the creature. It was something Zig could get used to. He turned around, wondering if he should charge the last monster, the ghoul. He hesitated, wondering what it was like to have zombie guts spray into the air, when he saw movement and looked up. Gutters sailed down in a smooth arc out of the air. Now that he was Advanced, his jumping skill took him way up. His cape billowed out behind him, almost in slow motion, like he was some hero sent by the gods.

  The undead creature looked up, slightly mesmerized by the colorful cape. It tried to lift the axe it was holding, but it was too late. Gutters' rapier flashed out in two quick strokes, and before his feet touched down lightly on the grass, the ghoul was beheaded and its torso was cut in half. The cape gently floated down around Gutters' shoulders as the pieces of ghoul fell to the ground. Zig looked down at his stone club, then over at Gutters, who was wiping down his rapier on the grass. He sighed to himself. He was very grateful for his stone weapon proficiency. Truly. But...

  "I need a cape."

  The Red Daggers came across undead three times the next day. Each time, it was no problem to deal with them, but the frequency was concerning. The sun was just getting low enough for them to call it a day when Hepp spied a large crowd of people coming toward them on the road.

  "There's a big group up ahead. Really big. Reminds me of Lancre's army. Oh, yep, definitely soldiers, I can see their armor now."

  Rows of soldiers, the late sun glinting off weapons and armor, were marching down the road toward the Red Daggers. There was a precision to their movements that hinted at a well-trained fighting force. Zig was a bit worried.

  "You don't think...?"

  "Nah, they're coming from the wrong direction."

  The Red Daggers might have been in some trouble with the local authorities, but this army wasn't from Lancre. They were marching down from the north. At their head was a man on a horse. Zig blinked a few times, trying to make out the details. He had long blonde hair and wore very expensive-looking armor, it even had a faint glitter about it. His sword was sheathed, but something about him made Zig guess that the sword would have a bit of a glow or glitter too. The horse he rode was pure white, with a golden mane, and had a single horn protruding out of its forehead.

  "Is that... a unicorn?"

  Teeth's head immediately twitched as she looked up at the approaching army. She stopped, tensed like a cat ready to attack, and a low growl came from her throat. Zig had the sudden uncomfortable thought that if Teeth bolted now, the entire Nest would be carried along for the ride.

  "Um, maybe we should wait by the side of the road to let them pass?"

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  They pulled over to the side, and everybody got out. Zig tried to stand close enough to Teeth to comfort her, and far enough to not be in danger. She was normally quite placid, apart from the occasional eating of, well, any person or animal she came across. Now that Zig thought about it, she wasn't the most well-trained pet... Maybe they should—

  "Ho there!"

  It was the man on the unicorn. He approached, but Zig shouted out to him.

  "Don't come closer! I don't think my horse likes your horse!"

  Jane leaned over to whisper to Jints.

  "Did Zig just call that unicorn a horse?"

  Jints shook his head in dismay.

  The unicorn reared up, giving an indignant whinny that thundered across the distance between the two parties.

  "Woah, there, woah girl. Be calm."

  That last sentence carried farther that it should have. Zig felt a weird twinge in his stomach. The man managed to calm the unicorn down, barely. He got off, and handed the reins to another soldier. The unicorn snorted disdainfully at Zig, then turned to stare Teeth down with murder in its eyes. The feeling was absolutely mutual. Teeth huffed and pawed the ground, giving the unicorn a smile that revealed all her sharp fangs. Zig felt like the whole situation was a bomb ready to explode.

  "Ho, stranger! I've never seen Meadow so riled up before. What have you got there?"

  "This is Teeth, a fanged horse from Lancre. She, uh, I guess she doesn't like unicorns."

  "Huh, weird, well I won't trouble you too much. We're looking for Felmont Woods, there are rumors of a vampire mansion there. Nasty things. Would you be able to point us the right way?"

  "Actually we're heading there ourselves. We're not from around here, but we've heard it's north west of here."

  Zig pointed to the road the soldiers had come from. The leader looked back and frowned.

  "We overshot?" The man stroked his chin, thinking aloud. "But the pale-skinned man in the long black cloak said it was another two days south... why would he lie?" The man shook his head in bewilderment. "Thank you good sir. I think we will pitch camp here, and head back north in the morning. You are most welcome to join us for dinner, and stay under our protection for the night. Er, provided, of course, that we separate our mounts on either side of the camp."

  Zig looked around at the Red Daggers. The others all either nodded or shrugged.

  "Sure, let's travel together a bit."

  "Wonderful! Say... Could I have a word with you in private?"

  Zig stepped away with the captain to speak more privately, and the captain lowered his voice to a whisper.

  "I know we just met, and pardon my forwardness, but you will have to indulge me. Who is that gorgeous beauty over there?"

  "Huh?"

  "That lady. She is breathtaking. What's her name?"

  Zig looked back to the Red Daggers, thoroughly confused.

  "Uh, Jane. She's pretty, I guess, I haven't really—"

  "Pretty? Never in my years have I seen..." the man trailed off, his eyes going a bit glassy.

  "Jane," he whispered to himself. Zig coughed, and the man shook himself.

  "Thank you, mister...?"

  "Zig."

  "Zig! Alan." The man clapped Zig on the back in a friendly gesture. "I'm glad our people can work together on this adventure."

  "Oh, um—"

  "Excellent! Excellent. Now if you would excuse me."

  The man walked off, leaving Zig a bit bewildered, and approached the Red Daggers. He walked right up to Gretta and gave a very low, sweeping bow to the dwarf.

  "Rumors of your beauty, my Lady Jane, will never do you justice. I would tell all men to see it for themselves, if not for the jealousy in my heart."

  "Huh?" said Gretta.

  "Huh?" said Jane.

  "Huh?" said Zig.

  "If you would give but the barest hint of affection, my heart would be made full as the moon on a summer's day. Thy very name, Jane, brings peace to this poor man's bones, and a warmth to his—"

  "Uhh my name's Gretta."

  "Huh?" said the captain.

  "Gretta. That's Jane, over there."

  Gretta jerked her thumb in Jane's direction. Zig, Gretta, Jane, and the captain all started turning red. Knob started laughing. Zig scratched the back of his head.

  "Sorry, Alan, I thought you meant—"

  "How could you possibly—oh, my Lady Gretta. One thousand and ten apologies. Gretta! What a name. A name that inspires—" The man ran his fingers through his hair, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "Ah, well, these compliments have really lost some steam, with the mixup. I, um, I beg your leave, my lady, I must go... check on my unicorn."

  The man shuffled off.

  "What was that about, Zig?"

  "I have no idea, Jane. I thought he was pointing at you."

  "He wasn't pointing at all."

  "Er, verbal pointing."

  "Really? What did he say?"

  "N-nothing. I, um, I gotta... go check on Teeth."

  The campsite for a hundred people was a big one, and Knob wasn't the best with crowds. He had enjoyed the privacy of Red Mine, rarely going back into Liston. Now it felt like Liston had come to him. These people were from somewhere else., but they looked at him with the same dark looks he'd seen his whole life. He retreated to the Nest, to hang out with Teeth instead.

  He saw the piles of herbs they had collected, and decided to try working with them. It took a while, but he found or made some tools to grind the leaves and extract their juices. He mixed the juices with beeswax, at a few different concentrations and combinations, putting each result into a different jar. He'd play with them all to see exactly what each did.

  It was strange. The liquid from the plants should be repelled by the wax, just like water. Instead they joined together almost eagerly, transforming into a new substance. Knob heated some wax in a pot, turning it to liquid. He stirred it with a wooden stick, observing the gooey consistency. It looked a bit like melted sugar. In fact...

  Knob rummaged around the supplies they carried with them. He brought out a small sack of sugar, and dumped some into the pot. It needed something more. He looked around again at what was available. There was a pot of beef fat, and Knob gave it a sniff. Not bad. He added a spoonful, stirring it in. When everything had mixed, he took the pot off the fire and let it cool down. When it was cool enough, Knob took a pinch of the wax and popped it into his mouth.

  Chewy. Very chewy. Kinda nice. But the taste was all wrong. Beef and sugar was not really the best combination. Maybe more beef, less sugar? Salt. Knob quickly set up eight piles of ingredients, each a different combination of flavors and intensities. Time flew by, and Knob was so immersed in his work that he almost missed the notification.

  New skill acquired! Goblin Alchemy (Extreme)

  Knob's eyes widened in shock. Now that his class was Extreme, any new skill was instantly brought up to the same level. To go from nothing at all to Extreme was a rush. Every ingredient suddenly popped out in his eyes, vibrant with potential. His mind was opened to so many new ideas. Knob sat back, stunned, as information flowed through him. He revisited in his mind all the experiments he'd just done, suddenly aware of every mistake he'd made, every way he could do it better next time. He looked around and the small collection of pots and ingredients they had. This wouldn't do. They needed more supplies. Far more. Knob's green face lit up with a smile that made Teeth a little nervous. He rubbed his hands together. It was time to start cooking.

  "Ho, good friends, mind if I share this fire?"

  With nods all around, Jints settled himself down among this new group.

  "Jints, of the Red Daggers, at your service."

  "Cara, of the Northern Raiders. It's a pleasure."

  Jints took in the woman sitting nearby, eyes sparking in the firelight. She was about his age, and quite lovely to look at.

  "The pleasure is all mine," Jints said, half to himself. He took a sip of his mug, then offered it to her.

  "Hot cocoa?"

  "Cocoa? Where'd you get something so expensive?"

  The woman quickly snatched the mug out of his hands and took a drink before he could reconsider his offer. She lowered the mug and sighed deeply.

  "Nothing like cocoa to restore the soul. Here, let's trade."

  She passed over a bowl of stew and a small loaf of bread. Jints accepted it and dug in. It was good food. Not quite worth the cocoa, but Jints was happy to have an excuse to talk.

  "So you lot are here specifically for this vampire in the woods?"

  "Yea," another fellow responded. "We're kingsmen, from the north. Our duty is to keep the empire free of monsters."

  "Monsters?"

  "Any non-human, really," yet another fellow chipped in. "Keeps the people safe. I say, if p—" the man coughed. "If the captain didn't vouch for you all, we might be having a different conversation right now."

  Jints raised an eyebrow at that.

  "Oh? What do you mean?"

  "You know..." The man looked a bit uncomfortable. "You lot come riding down the road, with that beast pulling the wagon. Bit of green skin, bit o' blue. Colorful lot, you understand?"

  "I see. And is that the view of yourself or the entire group?"

  The man scratched his head, completely oblivious to Jints' reaction to his words.

  "Well I can always speak for m'self, and I think the group's more or less the same. The, um, the captain, though, he has the last word."

  "How fortuitous, then," Jints replied coolly, "that your captain was the one to meet us."

  The circle around the fire fell into an awkward silence, and it might have stayed that way, but for one man who spilled his bowl of stew. He yelped, dodging back, but his clothes still got a healthy amount of food splashed all over them. The others shook their heads, some chuckling, as if this wasn't the first time. Jints watched for a bit, but decided the quality of their character wouldn't color the quality of his.

  "Allow me, sir. Cleanse."

  Everybody watched in awe as a muted flash of magic jumped from Jints to the poor man, whose clothing suddenly became cleaner and brighter. There was a bit of stunned silence.

  "A fellow mage," the lady said with surprise. "No wonder you've taken to cocoa."

  "Not a mage," Jints corrected, "just a skill I picked up along the way."

  The lady chuckled a bit, then paused.

  "You're serious? Jints, my dear, that was a spell you just cast."

  Jints frowned, looking back at the man who was still admiring his new cleanliness.

  "I assure you, my lady, I never read a scroll for this. I did recently acquire a water elemental spell, but in its base state it's more of a hobby than anything. I'm no mage."

  The lady shook her head in wonder, staring at Jints.

  "You discovered a spell? A primary spell? Now that's something you don't see every day."

  "I... seem to find myself lacking, would you care to explain?"

  "Every spell comes from somewhere, mister Jints. Spell scrolls are just shallow copies of another person's experience. That person, who we learn from, discovered the spell for themselves."

  Jints thought of the archmage whose memory he had relived to learn the elemental spell.

  "But I'm not some archmage of old."

  "No, which makes it all the more fascinating. You wouldn't have a scribing skill would you? I'd love to learn that cleansing spell."

  Revelations were hitting Jints faster than he could keep up.

  "Scribing... You mean I could make spell scrolls of Cleanse?"

  The woman sighed. "I'll take that as a no, for now at least. I guess I'll have to find that spell somewhere else. But yes, if you have a primary spell, one you learned yourself, and any decent scribing skill, you can get the right paper and ink from a mage guild and create your own spell scrolls."

  Jints thought about it.

  "To clarify, you mean those scrolls that sell for a hundred gold each?"

  The lady laughed and patted his arm.

  "At least, my friend. At least. I'm guessing your next question is whether I have any spare parchment, quills, or ink that you can have?"

  She leaned in close to Jints, her hair falling onto his shoulder, and whispered in his ear. The hairs on Jint's arms stood up.

  "It's all back in my wagon."

  With that, she stood up and started walking off. Jints tried to calm his wildly beating heart before standing up, nodding farewell to the others, and rushing after her.