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Tales Of Morveria: Loyalty 2, Ghost Town

A Lighthearted Adventure into Darkness.

By Mantrid Brizon

(Written during the blood moon of 2022)

Sitting at a table in the small tavern inn, in a little, nameless town, sixteen-year-old Amael slowly rotates his wooden mug. He stares blankly at the drink, his chin resting atop a palm as his fingers rest against his cheek. He spins the mug out of sheer boredom, listening to the cup scraping against the old, splintery table. Dust flakes from the ceiling, landing on the table and peppering his drink. With a frustrated sigh, he turns his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Ahh-yes! Oh, by The One! Don't stop! AAHHH!!!"

He'd done a wonderful job of ignoring the muffled cries of passion coming from upstairs, but this is too much. Amael grumbles and rolls his eyes as he contemplates leaving Vashai to his new “friend," only to catch a glimpse of the barkeep. He washes a mug by dipping it in a rusty iron tub before wiping it with a stained rag. As soon as he sees this, Amael straightens his back and pushes his drink away feeling ill at the thought of having already consumed half of it. Just then, he hears a shriek, even louder than before, accompanied by a most bestial grunt.

“Heh. That boy of yours can really go at it." The barkeep chuckles, dipping another mug into the dirty water.

“Yeah..." Amael mutters, wincing as the mug emerges even filthier than before.

The noise finally stops and Amael finds himself waiting. He taps his fingers on the table, making little patterns and finding a rhythm but his patience is limited, especially when his best friend has abandoned him. A part of him cannot blame Vashai; the tall, strong, and admittedly handsome beast man of the hybrid race known as Zesharii garners attention at most of the places they stop. With the intriguing combination of wolf, horse, and bear bloodlines, why wouldn't he? He's quite the sight!

Unfortunately for Amael, Vashai's popularity resides with the womenfolk, and as a healthy nineteen-year-old man, he can rarely resist them. After waiting for what feels like hours, and with no sign of Vashai, Amael rises from the table and slaps a copper zakian down on the table for the drink. The sound of the small copper coin with a hexagonal hole in the center for easy weighing draws the barkeep like a freshly baked pie in a windowsill. The portly man dashes over to the table as his young patron leaves, without his companion.

“What about your pet?" The barkeep asks, pocketing the coin.

“He'll be fine." Amael replies, heading for the door.

“But don't you want to go up there and get him?!"

“Nope."

“I would, if only to look at the sleeping beauty he went upstairs with." The heavyset, middle-aged barkeep chuckles.

“Ugh..." Amael grumbles as he makes his way outside.

Standing in the thoroughfare of the small town, Amael looks to the left and to the right, contemplating where to go. He and his companion have been traveling for a little more than a year, slowly working their way toward Zhanai. They stop at almost every town, offering their services in whatever capacity that suits them. Amael did not want to rely on thievery, as he had for much of his young life. For a few months they were handymen, then field hands, and then grave diggers, before realizing they had a knack for mercenary work.

Groups like the Unfettered are the premier mercenaries, but not everyone can afford the eunuch army. With Vashai's size and strength, and Amael's tact, they discovered that they were perfectly suited for work as bodyguards and henchmen, in the budget category. It pays considerably better than the other jobs, and most of the time they don't even have to do anything! They spend a week keeping local thugs away from a shop, sitting back and looking menacing while Vashai eyes the ladies; it's his favorite hobby.

It's a rather enjoyable routine, which they've maintained for at least two seasons. Their journey to the tropical region of Zhanai has been slow as a result, but to their credit, they've worked their way to the very edge of the temperate region of Vetosk; this is their first stop in the more arid region of Vokeem. Amael is struck by how empty the streets are. A tumbleweed blows by, bouncing over his brown leather boot.

“Hello, to you, too." He remarks, watching the plant rolling away. “Huh... This is one quiet town."

“It wasn't always like this..." A gravelly voice remarks.

“By Adonai!" He whirls around, finding an elderly woman behind him.

“Don't take The One's holy name in vain!" The old woman growls, pointing at him with the end of a broomstick.

“Sorry... So, what happened here?"

“It was... ... A necromancer!" She dramatically proclaims.

“I'm sorry?!" Amael raises his eyebrows in astonishment.

“A necromancer. You know! Those weirdos who dig up the dead and use their corpses to create loyal minions!" She explains.

“Yeah, I know, but... Is this a joke? Are your grandchildren watching me from afar?" He asks, looking over his shoulder.

“Don't smart-mouth me, boy!" She thwacks his head with the bristles of her broom. “I'm trying to tell you my story and here you are giving me an attitude?!"

“Sorry. Just please put the broom down."

“Hmph! ... Anyway... ... Uhm... What was I saying?" She asks, sweeping dust from her little wooden steps.

“A necromancer..."

“That's right!" She shouts, pointing at him with the broom and making him recoil. “A necromancer came to our town. We noticed when a body went missing. At first, we thought, 'well, she was young and pretty. Maybe her boyfriend missed her?'"

“... Okay..." Amael grimaces.

“But then another disappeared, dug up right beneath our noses!"

“I bet that smelled awful." He snickers.

“What did I say about your back-sass?!" She snaps and points her broomstick at him.

Amael steps back and gulps.

“Anyway... We were certain that we had body snatchers, but then someone claimed to have seen a skeleton walking about! At first, we dismissed it, but then more people saw the walking skeleton! We realized very quickly what the problem was, but none of us knows where the necromancer is hiding, nor would we be able to deal with them at this point... The necromancer has taken so many of our dead they must have an army in the twenties or thirties!"

“Interesting... That's quite the problem!"

“Yes. Very bad for tourism!"

“Right... A town in such dire straits might be very grateful."

“Oh, of course! We would give gold and silver by the bucket full to anyone who could rid us of this necromancer! Some brave and strong adventurers could surely make short work of that vile sorcerer! ... If you see any brave or strong adventurers, please let us know!"

“..."

Walking about the town, Amael questions others about their plight, only to discover they have a nearly identical tale. Unfortunately, none have any idea where to begin searching for this necromancer, except the town cemetery. Apparently, the necromancer has his undead minions watching the place; when they buried a homeless beggar not too long ago, his grave was exhumed that very night, despite him not even having a burial ceremony. Eager to try his hand at defeating the evil sorcerer and earn those buckets of gold and silver, he races back to the tavern inn. He bursts through the door, startling the barkeep.

“By The One! Watch it! If you break that door, I'll have to charge you for it!"

“Sorry. Has my pet come down yet?"

“No, and neither has that beauty you let him entertain." The barkeep winks.

“Oh, good..." Amael sighs, preparing himself for a disturbing sight.

“Why do the most beautiful women always want to play with the beast folk?" The barkeep murmurs, shaking his head.

“Maybe because they're property? That certainly changes the dynamics. Less to feel guilty about?" Amael suggests, heading for the stairs.

“Heh. She could own me, if that's what it takes."

“Aren't you charming..." The young man facetiously mutters.

“Thank you!" The barkeep chirps.

“..."

Before he can make his way upstairs, they hear a door open and close. Soft footfalls make their way down and a short, slender but buxom woman turns atop the middle landing. The young human female makes her way down, smiling warmly at Amael only to wince as she hobbles a little. Amael's cheeks flush when he realizes why she walks so funny.

“Thank you so much, sweetie." She coos, stepping up to him.

“Huh?!"

“Your Companion is everything a girl could want. Here's your due."

Taking out two silver zakians, she places them in Amael's hand before she curls his fingers over the coins, holds his hand in hers and kisses him on the cheek. He and the barkeep both turn and watch as she hobbles her way for the door, occasionally whimpering.

“Heh... Someone got her money's worth." He remarks, wiping down another glass with a filthy rag.

Amael makes his way upstairs and stops at a door, pausing as he contemplates knocking only to remember that he rented the room for himself and Vashai. Barging in unannounced, Amael's face turns red as soon as he sets foot inside. His companion, the towering Zesharii, stands in nothing but his fur. A paw-like foot is planted on a stool as he carefully washes his parts with a cloth and a small bucket of water.

“Hello!" Vashai chirps, dragging the cloth along his manhood.

“What are you doing?" Amael asks, closing the door behind him.

“Hygiene [is] very important! I must keep him clean!"

Vashai hums a little tune as he continues to wash.

“I see..."

“[Are] you looking at me?!" Vashai gasps and turns.

“That's not what I! ... Never mind." He sighs. “So, that girl..."

“Klavia."

“Yes, her... She gave me two silver zakians before she left."

“Good!" Vashai chuckles.

“... ... Care to explain?!"

“Yes. She approach[ed] me downstairs while you [were] order[ing our] drinks. I saw her approach. I notice[d] how she look[ed] to me. She spoke Ancient Hitrosii but I [did] not understand. I ask[ed] her what she want[ed] and she [was] surprised and happy I speak [the] human['s] language. She thought I [was a] Companion." Vashai turns to his young master, his flaccid equine parts swaying.

“Oh..." Amael looks away, finding the beast man's trousers and quickly throwing them to him.

“Thank you!" Vashai chirps, catching his pants.

“Do the Temple of the Companions even train males like that? I thought they only sold female consorts." Amael remarks.

“I [do] not know. Anyway, I offer[ed] her my pleasure. She [was] shy and nervous but curious. She want[ed to] know how I knew her desires. I say, “your eyes and smile betray[ed] you." I tell her that if she want[ed to] take me to bed, it will cost her. I [did] not think she would pay!"

“... Shouldn't she have paid me before you two? ... Well..."

Vashai shrugs as he pulls on his shirt. Amael cannot help but chuckle at the audacity of his companion.

“Thanks for the extra coin..." He says, holding up Klavia's silver. “But I don't appreciate you disappearing for hours. You do this too often and I hate it."

“Sorry. Females like me. I [can]not help that!" Vashai's wolf-like ears fold back.

“Perhaps you can make it up to me... I have a job, and this one will pay very well!"

“Oh?!" Vashai's emerald eyes gleam and his ears perk up. “[Is] it easy?!"

Amael shrugs.

“Goodie!" Vashai chirps, to Amael's amusement.

Later that night, they find themselves entering the town cemetery. Vashai looks to and fro, whimpering and keeping his large, clawed hands close to his chest, anxiously wringing them together. Amael whistles a pleasant tune as he looks for a good spot, poking at the ground with a crooked stick.

“W-why [are] we here, m-master?!" Vashai whimpers, his voice quivering.

“I told you; we need to make a false grave to lure in the necromancer."

“B-b-but skeletons [are] sc-scary!"

“... What's wrong with you?" A perplexed Amael furls his brow. “You kill three men to avenge your first master, in front of a room full of witnesses, and you're scared of a few skeletons?!"

“Skeletons [are] meant to stay inside [of] your body!" Vashai proclaims.

Amael smirks and shakes his head as he continues to poke the ground. He stops and looks around, seeing the position of the false grave in relation to the others.

“Here..." He taps the stick on the soil three times. “Here's a perfect spot."

“Alright." Vashai approaches.

“We can watch from over there, behind that ominous looking stone wall. Just you, me, and the ghosts." He teases.

“Stop!" Vashai whimpers.

“I'm sorry. Would you rather hide behind that dead, gnarled tree with the branches that look like claws?"

“Amael!"

“Heh..."

Amael takes two steps then stops, peering over his shoulder as he hears a strange skittering sound. His eyebrows raise as he sees Vashai squatting down and clawing at the dirt, digging a hole like a dog and throwing soil between his legs.

“... What're you doing?"

“You say we need [to] make [a] false grave." The beast man looks back.

“Yes, so why are you digging?"

“... To make [a] false grave?"

“There's spare dirt over here, by that farm. I already have permission to use their wheelbarrow. We're just going to make a pile and shape it like a grave. That's much easier."

“Oh... Ahem... I knew that... I [was] test[ing] you!" Vashai clears his throat.

After collecting dirt in the wheelbarrow, they make a mock grave and hide behind the old stone wall. They wait for several hours, well into the night. Amael leans toward his left as his head hangs forward under the weight of drowsiness. Vashai leans toward his right and leans his head over, resting his against his master's. With his jaw hanging open, he begins to snore.

“Zzz..."

“Vashai?" Amael blinks, feeling a weight on his head.

“Zzz... Zzz..."

“Vashai... You're drooling..."

“Zzz... Zzz... Zzz..."

He pokes the beast man's bicep, trying to quietly rouse him only for his wolf-like ears to twitch. He suddenly lifts his head.

“Someone [is] coming." He whispers to his master, wiping drool from his lips with a furry hand.

Turning around and kneeling behind the short wall, they peer over the asymmetrical stones and see a hooded figure approaching the graveyard! They walk from the opposite end, nowhere near the path from town. Moving slowly and methodically, the skittish looking individual glances to the left and to the right many times. They grab the dirt and scoop up a handful, only to sniff it.

“Ooh-yes... Now that's a fresh body." A man's voice remarks.

“Ew..." Amael quietly winces in disgust.

“But we know [that] there [is] no body there." Vashai turns to him, visibly confused.

“It's the thought that he'd-... Never mind. Let's see what he does."

Taking some articles from his satchel, the stranger assembles a little shovel and begins to dig. He apparently doesn't realize that the mound of dirt isn't a true grave, as he continues to dig for several minutes. As he moves, Vashai notices a strange clicking sound. Even Amael notices it after a time. Certain that they have their necromancer, Amael looks to Vashai, nods and rises to his feet.

“You, there! Stop!" He roars.

“Ahh!"

The man jumps and turns around, his arms outstretched and throwing open his hooded cloak, revealing a suit of bones underneath. Amael grabs the stone wall and vaults over it only for it to crumble beneath him.

“Stop right there and-oof!" He lands on the ground with a thud.

Shaking it off, he scrambles to his feet and runs after the necromancer, who quickly bolts, only to stop when he realizes that he doesn't hear any other footfalls. He looks for Vashai, finding his Zesharii companion standing behind the wall, kneeling and peeking over it with his glowing emerald eyes, right where he'd left him.

“What are you waiting for. Come on!" He gently urges, motioning with a hand.

“No."

“Get up... Aren't you supposed to be the brave one?"

“You [are the] master. You [are] brave." Vashai says, rising to his feet.

“This isn't funny. He's getting away."

“Good!"

Vashai's large hands grip the sides of his long, wolf-like snout, his massive fangs protruding from above and below. Amael's eyes widen with his growing impatience, silently demanding he follow. Vashai shakes his head 'no' and stands there, still as a statue. For as menacing a creature as he is, he looks so shy and timid. Walking back to his best friend, Amael grabs his arm, near his elbow.

“Come on, Vashai..." He speaks softly, tugging at him. “Are you really afraid of that man and his suit of bones?"

“Yes." Vashai remains as still as a statue.

“... Why?!" Amael snaps, forgoing the gentle approach. “Get out from behind that wall and help me you big oaf!"

“Mmrrmm! I [do] not want to!" Vashai whimpers.

“Come on, you big baby! What are you scared of?!"

“He wears bones! He might have [an] army of skeletons!"

Vashai's hands move from the sides of his snout and cover his eyes. He shivers like a little child frightened by the wind. With an exasperated sigh, Amael rests a hand on his brow and hangs his head.

“I don't understand you, sometimes. You never show an ounce of fear when we're up against a half-dozen toothless, bloodthirsty raiders, and yet you're afraid of skeletons and ghosts and witches..."

“They [are] scary! Men [are] not scary, and ugly men [are the] least scary!" Vashai proclaims.

“But don't you see? Men are the scariest of all! They're unpredictable, often irrational, carry swords and clubs and guns, and most are as intelligent as the rocks in this wall. In a way, you have already defeated the most dangerous monster in all of Morveria!"

“Oh!" Vashai's eyes widen, mulling over Amael's words.

“See how strong you are?! Look at these muscles!" He continues, reaching up and grabbing Vashai's bicep.

“I [am] strong!" Vashai chirps.

“Yeah! Yeah, you are! You're strong and you're brave!"

“I [am] brave!" Vashai proclaims.

“So, will you follow me?!?!"

“... No!" Vashai smiles.

“Ugh!!!"

It takes considerable convincing to make the beast man move, and in the end it's only the threat of leaving him behind in the graveyard that does it. Vashai is afraid of the graveyard and the risk of an undead assault, but he's utterly petrified of losing another master. With a miniscule, single-shot pocket pistol and a cheap dagger as Amael's only weapons, he leads the imposing beast man who does little more than sniff out the necromancer's trail. He has a considerable head-start, but he cannot evade the beast folk.

After a long walk through the woods, blazing a trail the whole way, they eventually come to an embankment. They slide down it to discover the mouth of a cave. It's decorated in bones of all sorts, with skulls placed into sockets around the entrance and forming a diabolical arch. This must be the necromancer's lair. Vashai trembles with fear, his emerald eyes glowing menacingly in the night, like green candles. It almost makes Amael laugh, how a creature so frightening and so dangerous to mankind could be so cowardly at times, and is so dependent on him.

The sixteen-year-old takes the beast man by the hand and pulls him into the cave as he whimpers and whines. Finding an ensconced torch mounted to the wall, Amael lights the way while Vashai sniffs out the necromancer. With his long and razor-sharp claws, he points to which tunnel to take. It's a rather large cave system, and he wonders why none of the townsfolk mentioned it to him. Perhaps none of them realize it's there? With his pistol at the ready, Amael leans around the corner only to nearly fall over when Vashai grabs his shoulders for support and leans over him to peek.

As they reach the end of the tunnel, they see an amber light. It flickers, dancing along the wall and casting shadows of all sorts. A voice quietly rambles, grumbling about their failure at the cemetery. As the pair approach a chamber, the voice becomes louder and more distinct. The frantic nature strikes Amael as unusual. A knot forms in the pit of his stomach as he begins to contemplate the many horrors he might see in the chamber. What does the necromancer have in store for them?!

He gathers his courage and peeks around the corner. Amael is immediately surprised to find the walls decorated with dried flowers, patterns formed with old torches, and paintings on cloth strips. He places his torch onto an empty sconce near the mouth of the chamber and steps into the room, a hand still holding Vashai's and pulling him along. As they step inside, their obvious footsteps attract the attention of the necromancer, and wasting no time, Amael releases Vashai's hand only to grab his single-shot pistol.

“Who are you?!" The necromancer exclaims.

“The necromancer, I presume?"

“You're a necromancer, too?!"

“No, I..." Amael sighs. “Are you the necromancer?!" He growls, losing his patience.

“Oh... Yes, I am! And who might you fine fellows be?!" The man chirps.

“We're brave-! ... Warriors..." Amael glances back to see Vashai cowering a few feet behind him. “... And we're here to investigate the grave robbing and... All this other crap you've been up to." He continues, looking about the chamber.

“Knights!" The warriors gasps.

“... What?"

“Knights, come to kill me! Do you see that, Villie?! I told you they'd discover my plan!"

Amael lowers his pistol as he follows the necromancer's gaze. To his bewilderment and bemusement, this “Villie" is nothing more than a skeleton! Perched in a wooden lounge chair, the skeleton sits back as if relaxing. The joints have been painstakingly wrapped with flax strips to keep it together, and the hand has been formed to grip a brown glass bottle, often used for holding ale. The finger bones are tied to the bottle. An unlit cigar is clenched in the skeleton's teeth, several of them silver or gold - it's hard to tell in the dim light - and atop it's head is a cloth hat. Is that a sun painted on the wall behind him?!

Amael looks around the room to find several more skeletons in various poses. One reads a book, another sleeps in a bed, and one sits by an altar, posed with its chin in its hand as is sits in deep thought. How did he manage to keep them together?

“Villie! Protect your master! Before they stop us from conquering that wretched town!"

“Is that your plan?" Amael raises an eyebrow.

“Yes! Those pea-brained fools could never comprehend me... They're too busy farming dirt, getting drunk and chasing carnal pleasures!"

“That last part sounds right..." Amael glances at Vashai.

“They never took me seriously! They said I was crazy!!! Well, we'll show them, won't we, Villie?!"

The skeleton sits there, staring with empty eye sockets. With the cigar in his mouth and a bottle in his hand, he looks quite relaxed! Realizing that this necromancer is little more than a crazy man, Amael slips his pistol into a long but thin pouch on his belt, where it's completely concealed. With a little smirk, he motions to the wild-eyed man in the bone suit and hooded cloak and takes a few steps toward him.

“Alright. Enough of this. I think you'd better come back with us. You have some explaining to do. Come on, Vashai."

“No! I'll never go back there! Well, not until I've conquered them, anyway... Get them, Villie!" The crazy man yells.

Amael looks over his shoulder to see Vashai standing behind him, cowering. He's hunched over, his large hands covering his eyes as he whimpers and shakes.

“There he goes! It'll be over for you soon, noble knight! You cannot stop my strongest minion!"

Amael turns back to find the skeleton is still sitting in the chair.

“Are you going to help me, Vashai?" He asks with a frustrated sigh, looking back at his companion.

Vashai shakes his head 'no.'

“Oh! He has his enchanted saber! He's about to strike!" The crazy man chirps.

“My poor master..." Vashai softly whimpers.

Amael turns to the crazy man wearing the suit of bones, then to the skeleton sitting in the chair. It still looks at him with empty eye sockets, the floppy sun hat slouched to one side. He looks at the crazy man again. His eyes are wild and his fists clenched into tight balls as he silently cheers on his skeletal champion. Amael takes a single step to one side, just to see what the man will do.

“Oh, Villie! You missed! Didn't you feel the air from the blade, sir knight?!?! You don't have long to live, now!!!"

With a heavy sigh, Amael hangs his head and covers his eyes with a palm.

“Vashai..."

“Please, master! Please, [do] no[t] die! You [are] strong! You [can] win!"

“Vashai!" He growls at the beast man.

“[Are] you in trouble?! Sh-should I help?!" The frightened beast man quivers.

Reaching back and tapping the beast man's furry arm, Vashai spreads his fingers and peeks between them. He straightens his back, his brow furled as he looks around.

“Huh? Where [is] Villie?!"

“Sitting right there." Amael points to the skeleton.

“No! He's about to impale you! ... He sure is taking a long time to do it, though!"

Amael side-steps again.

“Oh, drat! You missed again, Villie! Come on! Don't let me down!"

“You mean... This [is] not real?!" Vashai gasps.

His surprise morphs into anger as he feels the humiliation sinking in. He'd spent so much time in fear for nothing. Amael casually approaches the crazy man who suddenly snaps out of his little fantasy only to shriek and jump to the side.

“Vashai, grab this guy." A frustrated Amael commands.

“Gladly." The beast man growls.

“Ahh! Villie! Save your master!"

“Will you knock it off! This is getting old!"

“Oh, yeah?! Then feast your eyes on my army!" The crazy man races to a lever. “Awake, my minions! Awake, and attack!!!"

With a pull of the lever, trap doors above their heads open and debris falls all over them. The youth and his beast man choke on dust as bones of all shapes and sizes fall from compartments in the ceiling. Amael shields his head as a skull nearly crushes his.

“What the-? These are just bones!"

“No! It's my army!" The crazy man steps back.

“Get over here, damn you! You're coming back to town and explaining this to everyone! We're done playing this bizarre game!"

“Never! You can't catch me! I'm invincible!"

“You're a loony..."

“Come here!" Vashai roars.

He approaches the crazy man who ducks and races beneath his outstretched arms. Vashai's claws hook the flax rope that hold the bone shirt together, tearing it from his chest as he spins in a circle to escape the beast man's grasp. As the “necromancer" struggles to keep his bones from falling apart, he continues to dash away, toward a darkened tunnel.

“Hahahaha! See?! You cannot catch me-EEEEEeeee!!!"

The crazy man trips over a femur, stumbling into the darkness. His voice fades as he falls and the duo approach to find a cordoned off pit just beside the darkened tunnel. It looks like it might've been a mine shaft many generations ago. Just like the cave, it was long forgotten, possibly even by the crazy man. After a few seconds of screaming, they hear a faint but distinct thud and the crunching and crashing of bones. Amael and Vashai both wince and slowly back away from the pit.

“Well... So much for that plan." Amael sighs.

“What [do] we do now?" Vashai turns to his master.

“I guess we... Go back and tell them the truth?" He shrugs.

“[Do] you think that [will] work?"

“Of course. Why wouldn't it?"

Vashai nods in agreement and rests a hand on Amael's shoulder, pulling him in before draping it over him.

“Come, my friend. We [should] go back, now." Vashai grins.

They walk confidently from the cave, through the empty darkness and back to the graveyard where some of the townsfolk are gathering. They'd come to investigate, having heard of the pair's plan to slay the necromancer and free them from the evil. Perhaps they came to see if they'd been killed? The sight of the pair, however, leaves the townsfolk dumbfounded. How could these two young men, a teenage boy and a young and inexperienced beast man, survive against the mighty necromancer and his undead horde?!

“What?!" The old woman cackles, still clutching her broomstick. “That can't be so!"

“It is so." Amael nods.

“The necromancer commanded the dead! We saw it!" The blacksmith exclaims.

“That was [a] suit made [out] of bones." Vashai attempts to explain.

“Yes. He tied it together with flax strips and-"

“Don't you insult our intelligence!" A young woman growls, interrupting Amael.

“How dumb do we look?!" A man adds.

“Well..." Amael mutters, fighting back a smirk.

“Wait... I know what's going on! Clearly, these two have been bewitched by the necromancer's evil magic!!!" The old woman proclaims.

Seeing the tide turning, Amael steps forward and raises his hands high.

“Alright! Alright! I confess!" He begins.

“... Confess to what?" A woman's squeaky voice asks.

“We didn't wish to trouble you with the horrid truth... Erm... The necromancer was real, and so was his army!"

“Hmm?!" Vashai turns to his master. “But [the] necromancer was-mm! Mmm-hmmf!"

Amael jumps back, quickly grabbing Vashai's snout and holding it shut.

“Don't listen to him. He's still recovering from the horrors of battle. He was forced to fight no less than fifty skeletal warriors!" Amael proclaims.

“Oooh!" The crowd collectively coos in awe.

“That makes sense." A man says to a dozen nods of approval.

“Your poor beast!"

“I hope he recovers!"

Vashai sees the crowd settling and realizes what Amael is doing. This must be one of those “creative explanations" he's so fond of using with town guards!

“And what of the necromancer?" The old woman asks.

“Once we had defeated his many minions, using only our wits and Adonai's grace, we cornered him in his unholy chamber. I challenged him to a duel for the soul of your town, and we fought. Alas, as I was about to strike a killing blow, the necromancer cheated and summoned wraiths from the otherworld to save himself!" Amael explains, raising his voice and making wild gesticulations as if telling a campfire tale to children.

“Ooh!" The crowd coos.

“Though mentally and emotionally scarred from the horrors he'd already witnessed, Vashai was able to come to my aid. He helped me subdue the inhumanly strong necromancer, whose magic gave him the strength comparable to two of the horse-kin! Together we pitched him into an old mine shaft to certain doom! Once his life had ended, the wraiths and the other horrors he'd spawned all disappeared or otherwise fell apart. His lair is nothing more than a dank cave in a cleansed forest." Amael bows his head and hangs on Vashai, as if weary from battle.

The crowd claps and praises the pair.

“So, you see, my initial story was only to spare you the gruesome details. I'm sorry we weren't forthright at first... I hope you can forgive us." Amael raises his head, his eyes displaying shame and regret.

“We appreciate your consideration, young man, but never mask the truth."

“I will remember that." He flashes an innocent smile.

“You're real heroes." The old woman thanks him with a grandmotherly embrace.

“We'd rather have the reward, if you don't mind." He wriggles out of her grasp.

“What reward?" She cocks her head and raises an eyebrow.

“The gold and... Silver...?"

“Huh?! ... Oh, that!" The blacksmith laughs. “We're poor! That was just a metaphor we like to use!"

“Haha! You might be brave warriors but you certainly are foolish!" The old woman laughs.

“Thank you for your efforts, though!" A young woman gushes.

“..."

Returning to the tavern inn where they'd spent the last several days, Amael and Vashai take a seat at their preferred table. Amael glances around the room to see the surprisingly large crowd. Without the “necromancer" to bother them they feel safe to roam about, even at night, and tonight they will celebrate. His eyes scan the crowd, many of them raising their mugs in thanks to the adventurers who've helped them out of the kindness of their hearts. Suddenly, he notices a woman staring at him. She appears young, with a pretty face and alabaster skin.

Their eyes make contact and she takes that as a signal; she begins to approach. He's seen her before, sitting near a window on the second floor of the only manor in the village. A pretty and wealthy young woman! What a catch! Maybe this wasn't all for naught?! Moving around a pair of men, his eyes widen when he sees the rest of her. My, what a large woman! She isn't so much pear-shaped as she is orange or apple-shaped, her eyes so soft and so inviting. Vashai notices his master's stare and glances over, an amused smirk spreading across his lips as the heavy-set woman claims the seat beside Amael.

“Hello." She coos, leaning uncomfortably close to the teenager.

“Hi..."

“You're the warriors who defeated the necromancer?" She asks, narrowing her eyes.

“Yes." Amael eyes her suspiciously.

“Ooh... You must be very strong."

“We are warriors, ma'am." He murmurs and takes a drink.

“I see... ... How much for a night with your beast man?"

“Huh?!" Vashai's eyes widen in horror.

“Oh... Well, if that's what you want it'll cost... One silver zakian!"

“HUH?!?!" Vashai turns to Amael.

“That's all?!" She chirps, taking out her coin purse.

“Call it a discount. He isn't very skilled... Or brave... But he certainly has an attribute that most females find intriguing." Amael teases his companion, taking the portly woman's money.

“Yes, I've heard." She coos, eying Vashai very slowly. “I know Klavia very well. She spoke so very highly of him and his... Talents."

“Who? ... Oh, right!" Amael chirps, recalling the slender woman from the night before. “I hope he lives up to your expectations."

“If he's half the man she said he is, then I'll be very satisfied." She coos.

Vashai leans closer, bringing his snout toward Amael's ear.

“Please, master... Please, [do] not rent me to her."

“What? You did it with Klavia." Amael coolly retorts.

“That [was] different. Klavia [is] very pretty!" Vashai whispers.

“Vashai... Tisk-tisk... Don't you know? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

“Mmrrmm! Not my eye!"

“Well, that's what happens when you leave me sitting alone for hours..." Amael smirks, resting a hand on Vashai's shoulder. “Have fun!"

“..."

“Come here, big boy!"

The portly woman coos as she guides her prize out of his seat and toward the stairs. Amael sits back and waves, taking a sip from his mug as a softly whimpering Vashai is led upstairs by the excited young woman.