“Ratfolk?” Morgan said, his voice cracking at the end.
“Oh, I see how it is. You get to ask zoology questions and I don’t,” Cordelia said.
“You know I have a thing about rats,” Morgan said, feeling his hair stand on end. “Seriously, ratfolk?”
“They’re… not as nice,” Murtok said. “Also, not as satisfying for ghouls to eat, but they’ll do.”
“But you’ve basically managed to fight the nature of your curse for half a millennium?” Jack said, pulling the conversation back on topic.
Murtok grimaced.
“It has not been easy, my friend,” he said. “I am always hungry. Which, as you can imagine, means I am always in pain. But after a while… Well, after a few hundred years, if I’m being honest… I cannot imagine eating a sentient being ever again. I don’t know that I could exist with myself if I did. I’ve regained enough of my humanity to know the repulsion I would feel. I don’t know that I could physically do it.”
“So, you’ll live forever. Hungry. But mentally unable to allow yourself to do the thing that would end that pain,” Jack said.
Murtok nodded.
“This is some Greek myth, punishment by the gods, eternal damnation shit right here,” Jack said.
“I have no idea what half of what you just said means, but eternal damnation is very accurate,” Murtok said.
Morgan put a hand on the ghoul’s shoulder. He was shocked by how cold the creature’s skin was beneath his palm.
“I am so sorry you have to live like this,” Morgan said.
“Have you ever tried to… end it?” Cordelia said.
Morgan shot her a horrified look.
“Cordie!”
“What, I’m serious. If I were hungry for five hundred years I don’t know if I could do it.”
Murtok waved a hand at Morgan.
“It’s fine. She’s not wrong. I’ve thought about ending myself,” Murtok said. “But I feel like… in life, I was the village hunter. I kept us fed. I kept us safe.”
He looked at Jack and nodded at the bow in his hand.
“I was the outrider who watched over them. And when I… came back, when I regained my mind, I tried to do that, still. I tried to guide the pack to where we would be safer. Where we would feast on… well, no one deserves to die at a ghoul’s hand, but if I could lead them to bandit camps, or to a pack of raiders, or if I could draw a tribe of ogres toward us who might destroy a village like ours, then maybe I could… if not redeem us, at least limit the harm.”
“You tried to be a shepherd,” Morgan said.
“A bad one, but I did my best,” Murtok said. “And I can’t leave this world as long as some of my kind still roam it. I am the monster who watches over the other monsters.”
“Your brother’s keeper,” Morgan said.
“Truly,” Murtok said.
The all fell silent again, Jack studying his bow, Cordelia her axe, Morgan watching Murtok’s face.
“It feels like an unfair punishment,” Morgan said.
“We offended the gods,” Murtok said. “Perhaps we deserved some sort of punishment.”
“But not this,” Morgan said.
“You’d have to talk to the gods about that,” Murtok said.
You listening to this? Morgan said silently, wondering if the fictional goddess who had laid claim to him here in Revery could hear him. We have a deal, you and me. If I’m stuck here, I’ll be your representative, I’ll do good things in your name, because I am willing to believe you’re one of the good ones. But are you? Was this you?
No response. Morgan waited patiently for a moment, wondering if this were prayer or just a conversation, if Theana was really listening or not.
And then:
We are not infallible.
Morgan looked to his companions to see if they reacted, but none of them appeared to have heard.
So, you did this, Morgan said silently.
Not me. These are not my children, Theana said in Morgan’s head. But I did not speak up. I am not a vindictive god, but I deferred to the others, and I let their anger determine their decisions. I did not disagree. Not then. But perhaps… Know this, Morgan, my Bastion. I do not know the gods of your world, but here, we are not perfect. Nothing should be perfect. I believe this to be true.
Nothing should be perfect, Morgan said. But everything can be better.
Theana did not respond immediately. Morgan wondered, briefly, if she considered the conversation ended. And then:
I chose you wisely, Morgan, my Bastion. You are wiser than you know.
And with that, Morgan knew, inherently, that Theana was gone and the conversation over. Talking to gods, Morgan thought. My grandma would kill me for this. But you do what you’ve got to do, I guess.
Morgan caught Murtok staring at him curiously.
“Does the divine have an opinion, priest?” Murtok said.
“Not the opinion I was expecting,” Morgan said.
And then Jack put a hand up.
“Do you hear that?” he said.
“It is so creepy when you do that,” Cordelia said.
Jack shushed her, and Cordelia shot him a look sharper than her battle axe. Ignoring her, Jack crept forward toward the large chamber at the end of the tunnel. The others followed.
Below them, the ghouls were inexplicably worked up. Pacing, growling, they seemed to sense something was wrong. Then, all at once, they looked toward one of the doorways—thankfully not the one the adventurers stood in—and, as a unified pack, ran toward some unseen goal.
“I think Eriko’s got their attention,” Cordelia said.
“We have to go get her,” Jack said.
“She’s smarter and sneakier than all of us,” Morgan said. “Trust her judgment, Jack.”
“Her judgment is what got us into this mess in the first place,” Cordelia said. “I don’t trust her judgement at all.”
Morgan closed his eyes, begging himself to remain patient.
“Tamsin and Tobias. Let’s get our friends first. Then we go ghoul hunting,” Morgan said. He turned to Murtok. “No offense.”
“None taken,” the gaunt hunter said. “Your plan is sound.”
And together, they ran the opposite direction of the ghoul pack, deeper into the tunnels.
Chapter 18: Con man
The feral ghouls smell like deli meat, Tobias thought as he was dragged back to his cell. The dragging part was a little annoying. He wasn’t really putting up much of a fight. No fight at all, honestly. Maybe just walking a little slowly. In fact, he’d picked up his pace when he realized why the ghoul shoving him might smell like bologna.
Do… people smell like bologna? Tobias thought.
“You know, you really don’t have to shove,” Tobias said. “I’m seriously doing my best to cooperate here.”
“Please don’t talk,” Urfang said from behind.
“I mean really, where am I going to go? You have my sister,” Tobias said.
“Shut up, elf,” Urfang said.
“Fine, be that way,” Tobias said, and he began humming.
The feral ghoul to his left glared at him, but, incapable of speech, said nothing. The one on his right barely acknowledged his existence. Tobias wondered if Tamsin had enough time to get away. Out of the cage, certainly, but who knew how far underground they were? What if she got lost? Oh, no, of course she’s lost, Tobias thought. Tamsin got lost in department stores. Regularly. I did not think this through.
He glanced back at Urfang, who seemed mildly annoyed at the singing, but also resigned to the fact that at least Tobias wasn’t trying to make conversation, and so the ghoul champion let it pass. Tobias found his footsteps involuntarily matching the beat of the tune like percussion.
Somewhere in the cavern, Tobias heard the distant sounds of commotion—clawed ghoul feet running, the huffing and growling of angry undead. Something’s up, he thought. He said so.
“You guys having a party?” he said, suddenl
y concerned that whatever the commotion was, it had something to do with his sister.
Urfang raised his hand, bringing the procession to an end. He pointed at the ghoul on he left.
“Go find out what that is,” he said. Wordlessly, one ghoul bolted off to investigate.
“So, how’d you end up mixed up in all this?” Tobias asked.
“What?” Urfang said.
“Were you one of the villagers? Sign on later?” Tobias said.
Urfang seemed to consider the question.
“Constian raised me from the dead,” he said. “He found me. Saw something in me. Turned me into his weapon. I was good at it, so I stayed.”
“Did you volunteer?” Tobias said.
“No,” the ghoul said. “I was dead and buried. No one asked my permission. Everything was dark, and then…”
Urfang spread his hands out before him.
“All of this splendor,” Tobias said.
“I sense some sarcasm in your tone,” Urfang said. “You think I’d rather be something else. But let me tell you, minstrel. A golden kingdom does not await most of us on the other side. Life as a monster is a vast improvement to oblivion.”
“I can’t tell if I’m developing Stockholm Syndrome, of if you lot are starting to grow on me,” Tobias said. “And you’re what, Constian’s enforcer?”
Urfang nodded.
“His enforcer, his outrider, his spokesman. I am what is needed. Sometimes it’s his dirty work. Sometimes it’s his mercy.”
“Sometimes you turn other people into ghouls?” Tobias said.
The creature shook his head.
“Only by accident, which happens sometimes, when we go to battle,” Urfang said. “My lord chooses his pack very specifically. Those he raises may never regain consciousness, but if they do, he chooses them for what they’ll remember.”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” Tobias said.
“Don’t be,” Urfang said, smirking. “Sometimes, yes, it’s a punishment—he wants them to survive in undeath as punishment for who they were in life. But other times he pities them, or he thinks they deserved more time. Or, like me…”
“They’re a weapon,” Tobias said.
“We’ve yet to find someone worthy of becoming my second, but the search continues,” Urfang said. “Maybe it will be you, elf.”
“I’m way too lazy for that job,” Tobias said.
They reached the cell where Tobias had last seen his sister. His heart started to pound. There was no way Urfang wouldn’t notice an empty cage. Now or never, bard boy, Tobias thought to himself.
“What is this,” Urfang said, unlocking the cage.
With one swift motion, Tobias unleashed the spell he’d been building with his song, a burst of spellcraft woven with his voice, waiting for a target. That target, of course, was Urfang. The ghoul champion began cursing and clutching his eyes.
“I’m blind!” he roared. “What did you do?”
With a movement so fluid Tobias shocked even himself, he pulled a long knife from Urfang’s belt, booted Urfang in the rump, knocking him into the cage, and then drove the knife into the skull of the remaining feral ghoul. The wordless one never made a sound as it crumpled to the ground. Urfang, however, made enough noise for both of them.
“You little bastard!” Urfang yelled, claws scrabbling against the stone floor as he tried to find some sort of reference for where he’d fallen. With a dancer’s grace, Tobias darted in, grabbed the keys from Urfang’s belt, leapt over the gaunt’s grasping fingers, and slammed the cell door shut, locking it.
“I’m sorry, Urfang,” Tobias said. “I really do kind of like you, which is why I’m doing this instead of putting a knife in your skull. I know that’s small consolation and you’re going to want to eat my brains later, but really, just think it over before you go on a murderous rampage. I’m just trying to get back to my friends.”
“I will eat you one digit at a time, elf,” Urfang said. “And I’ll keep you alive as I do, so you can watch your body slowly roast over a cooking fire…”
“See, you’re making me regret not killing you,” Tobias said. “Is it killing if you’re undead? What’s the opposite of undead? Unlife? I guess you’re also unliving, too. Semantics, really. I hate semantics.”
“I will destroy everything you ever loved, elf,” Urfang said. “Even if I have to track you by scent.”
“Oh, the blindness will wear off in ten minutes,” Tobias said.
“What?”
“Yeah, I didn’t permanently blind you, dude,” Tobias said. “I should have told you that.”
“It’s not permanent?” Urfang said, genuinely confused.
“No, it’ll wear off soon. But no offense, I don’t want to be here when it wears off. Just… y’know, think pretty thoughts for nine more minutes and you’ll be fine.”
“I’m still going to kill you, minstrel,” Urfang said.
“Well, I figured that was how this story ended no matter what,” Tobias said. “At least this way I get a running start. Anyway. Good luck!”
Tobias took off at a full sprint, fast enough he could just barely make out the vile ways Urfang cursed him as he slammed his body against the cage door.
Now, Tobias thought—where did my invisible sister go?
Chapter 19: What I was put here to do
Jack put a flaming arrow through the brains of two more ghouls and found himself developing romantic feelings for his new bow.
“Are you sure this isn’t offensive to you?” Jack asked Murtok. “I’m basically on a ghoul killing spree here.”
The gaunt shook his head.
“These are mercy killings,” he said. “I’m more concerned at the numbers we’re seeing.”
“Or not seeing,” Cordelia said. “I know my attitude was originally, y’know, let Eriko handle it, she has a plan, but…”
“They are all up there,” Jack said. “I’m in the single digits here. Morgan, I’m going to go up to the surface and help her.”
Morgan locked eyes with Jack, and for the first time in a while, the ranger noticed how tired his friend looked. The rest of us all have our distractions, Jack realized. Eriko was enjoying the adventure, Cordelia working out her rage, the twins having a diabolically good time with roles that were essentially wish fulfilment. Even Jack himself, while not settled in or happy here, had the distraction of his scouting missions alone with his wolf to clear his head. And in the center of this storm of weirdos was Morgan, involuntarily being both rock and camp counselor, just like he was on the other side of the looking glass. Morgan always took on too much responsibility, but here, Jack could finally see it wearing him down.
“No, I’ll go,” Morgan said.
“Morgan, you’re not…” Cordelia started to say, but the cleric cut her off.
“Can any of you do what I do?” Morgan said. “You missed it on the road, Jack. I can nuke these things. This is what I was put here to do. Yeah, I’m a healer, but just like in all these games, the guy who heals also has ways of destroying things that cheat death. No offense, Murtok.”
“None taken,” the gaunt said.
“I’m an undead killing machine. And they’re all on the surface. Hopefully that means you two can find and free the twins.”
“Constian won’t be so easily fooled,” Murtok said. “He’s probably waiting for us down here.”
“In which case, we have our berserker and our magic bow-carrying archer to take him out. Hopefully backed up by a magician and a bard,” Morgan said. “I’m doing this. You’re not dissuading me.”
“I just want it noted for the record that I’m not crazy about two of my best friends going on suicide missions in the same night,” Jack said.
“Yeah, because melodramatic self-sacrifice is your job, right?” Morgan said. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been your DM enough times to remember how many PCs you’ve thrown in front of a dragon to save the group, you Freudian head case.”
“Okay,”
Jack said. “This is how it’s going, then.”
“Yes, it is,” Morgan said. Morgan stuck his hand out for a shake, but Jack hugged him instead. “I hate hugs, Jack.”
“I know, Morgan,” Jack said. “It’s why I did it. Good luck.”
“You too,” Morgan said. To Murtok, he said, “Which way?”
Murtok pointed down an adjoining hallway.
“Down that corridor about forty paces, turn right, then straight on until you find a rope ladder. It’ll lead you up through the well in the center of town. Your boots will get a little wet,” the creature said.
“Worse things have happened,” Morgan said. He took a deep breath and looked at his war hammer curiously. Holding his free hand over the metal head of the weapon, his palm began to glow with a bright golden light. The light drifted down off his hand like a slow-moving liquid, engulfing the hammer, which began to glow with the same light, intense but giving off no heat.
“Consecrated weapon,” Murtok said.
“Didn’t know I could do this,” Morgan said. “We keep learning new things every fight.”
“Luck, priest,” Murtok said.
Morgan nodded. Cordelia punched him in the shoulder. The cleric laughed.
“See you all soon,” Morgan said.
“You better,” Jack said.
They watched him walk steadily into the darkness, disappearing around the corner.
“It’s really just a question of how many of us get killed, isn’t it,” Cordelia said.
“Hey, on the bright side, if we have a TPK, maybe we get to start a new campaign,” Jack said.
Chapter 20: I am a ninja
For roughly three minutes, Eriko thought she had the situation entirely under control.
The ghouls started appearing slowly at first, bubbling up from underground, creeping in from the forest edge. They knew something was up with the burning building, and entered one at a time. Eriko let them stalk around in the smoky darkness for a moment, and then would catch them unawares, jamming a dagger into an eye socket or through their spine. She killed—is that the right word? Maybe it’s ‘put down,’ she thought—three or four easily before they ever knew she was there.
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