Jeremiah awoke at the crack of dawn with a surge of adrenaline. Soon, the house was bustling as everyone performed last minute checks. Delilah served a massive breakfast of thick pound cake and milk, meant to last a full day of hard walking. Jeremiah ate as much as he could, nerves battling his appetite. Bruno`s normal chattiness had disappeared, replaced by thin-lipped silence as they loaded backpacks to bursting, donned their armor, and laced their boots.

　　As Jeremiah pulled on his heavy pack, he felt a surge of excitement, and not just for the imminent adventure, but also for the reveal of his surprise. He couldn`t remember the last time he`d experienced the special type of eagerness that comes from giving gifts to friends.

　　Bruno pushed open the front door and strode forward, only to freeze midstep.

　　Allison nearly ran into him. "Oi! What`s the holdup?"

　　Waiting outside the house was a large, ornate carriage. Jeremiah squeezed past Bruno and turned beaming, to his friends. "Ta-daaaa! What do you think?"

　　The others gathered around to take in the cart`s craftsmanship. It was painted black with gold and crimson details, and big enough for at least five passengers. While it had a slight air of funeral procession about it, that carriage was clearly a thing of prestige. "Jay, did you buy this?" asked Allison.

　　"Custom made!" Jeremiah laughed at the stunned expression on Bruno`s face. "There`s extra storage space, and you can convert the seats into beds."

　　"Jay," said Delilah, "while this is amazing, it looks awfully heavy. We`re going to need at least a few strong&" she paused as Jeremiah flashed her a toothy grin, patting a large mound beside the front of the cart, covered with a sheet. "Oh no," she finished.

　　"Oh yes!" Jeremiah pulled the sheet with a flourish, revealing two perfectly white horse skeletons. They clambered to their feet at his command. "They`re as strong as normal horses and much faster. And they are easily disguised!"

　　Jeremiah retrieved two massive bundles of leather from inside the cart. He unfurled one and draped the rough leather across the nearer skeleton, fussing and adjusting the fabric over the boney spine until it covered the horse`s entire frame. Once he buckled the strap of the hood under its jaw, the skeleton looked decidedly horse-like, complete with faux ears and mane.

　　"I commissioned a couple of costume makers at the Gilded Peacock theater to do some work on the side. We also have free tickets to The Truths of Ctharotep. Not bad, right?" Jeremiah was suddenly nervous. Had he overstepped his bounds?

　　Bruno stepped in front of him. He put a hand on Jeremiah`s shoulder, his face deadly serious. "Jeremiah. This is the single greatest thing anybody has ever done." Then Bruno heaved his pack onto the cart, triggering a scuffle with Delilah and Allison to claim the best seats, and leaving Jeremiah flushed with happiness.

　　Their trip was smooth; that`s what Jeremiah had paid for after all. Mile after mile passed each day at a brisk pace. The two skeletal horses under Jeremiah`s command pulled the cart with ease. Even Bruno`s stoic demeanor had faded with the unexpected comfort of the journey, giving way to his usual joviality. Jeremiah only needed to spare a bit of focus to keep the horses on the road, after all he was an expert in making horses walk.

　　"What is magic, anyways?" Delilah asked Jeremiah one evening. They had stopped for the day, relaxing around the fire after dinner. "How is it that you say a few words and wave your hands, and stuff happens?"

　　Jeremiah had been waiting for this topic to come up. "Simply put, we don`t know. We think it`s a language that, when spoken, alters the world around us. The simultaneous gestures are another aspect of the language."

　　"You`re saying I could just repeat what you say and do the same thing? Cause I`ll admit, I`ve already tried that," said Allison.

　　Jeremiah laughed. "Well, no. There`s more to it than that. You need to know how to focus your will to actually make the words true."

　　Allison raised a brow. "So, you can just say things and make them true? Why the fascination with undead then?"

　　The question caught Jeremiah off guard. "To be honest, I tried to do other magic for a long time, but I never really got the knack. There`s something about my focus that makes me bad at other schools of casting, but necromancy is a natural fit for me. It`s the only thing I`ve ever been good at." Jeremiah shrugged helplessly.

　　To his relief, Bruno shifted the subject. "Let me get this straight. I just tell the universe what I want, wiggle my fingers, want it real bad, and I can do anything?"

　　"Sort of?" said Jeremiah. "Except we only have a handful of words, really. So, it only works if the thing you want is something we know how to say. We find new words, rarely, inscribed on things like ancient stone tablets or the walls of forgotten dungeons. Every discovery is a major find. A fluent speaker of the language would probably be like a god."

　　Bruno laid back and sighed. "The only thing standing between me and godhood is a good dictionary."

　　Jeremiah grinned. "Well, that and all the grammar and context it takes to say something intelligible. In that way, at least, it`s like any other language.

　　Delilah nodded. "That makes sense. I wonder if it`s any way related to Gnomish? Gnomish also relies a lot on gestures to convey meaning—head tilt, hand motion, posture, that sort of thing. A lot of context is lost without body language. It`s why they tend to live really close together, since the written language is cumbersome and easily misunderstood. Meanwhile, when I was learning the different screeches in Goblin—"

　　"Screeches?" asked Jeremiah. "So, all those noises they make aren`t just&screeches?"

　　"Nope!" said Delilah. "They live in tight, crowded spaces, so screeching is how they express themselves among the din of so many other goblins. A screech announces the emotion and intended audience for what they`re about to say, and alerts listeners to pay attention. So, in this magic language—"

　　"Can we quickly go back to you speaking Goblin?" Bruno asked. A spark of mischief danced in his eyes.

　　"No. So, I`m guessing mages discover these words, but with no gesture associated it`s just nonsense. You have to use words, plus gesture, plus willpower."

　　"Mostly right, there are plenty of words without gestures though," said Jeremiah. "But Bruno`s right, we should go back to you speaking Goblin."

　　"No."

　　"Say something in Goblin!" said Allison.

　　"No!" Delilah, blushing. She crossed her arms indignantly while the others laughed.

　　"Come on, I need to hear this!" said Bruno.

　　"Do it!" said Allison, using her order-giving voice.

　　Delilah was trying to maintain a serious face, but the corners of her lips kept tugging upward.

　　"As your client, I demand you say something in Goblin!" Jeremiah said.

　　"Fine! Okay, fine!" She took a deep breath, then burst into a gale of laughter. "Stop it, Bruno!"

　　Bruno held up his hands innocently. "I don`t know what you`re talking about. This is just my face."

　　Delilah took a few hitching breaths, trying to get her giggles under control. Finally, she turned pointedly away from the group, filled her chest with air, and let out a screeching ululation into the night. The sound echoed across the plains, but Jeremiah and the others were laughing far too hard to hear it.

　　The landscape became sparse as they travelled, verdant vegetation giving way to the red rock of the Tarnothy Desert. Bruno grew more tense as well, remaining silent and pouring over the map for hours at a time.

　　"We leave the carriage here," he announced one afternoon. "We need to start trailblazing." There was a bit of grumbling, but the party dutifully hid the carriage and horses among the rocky outcroppings that grew to looming mountains in the distance. Jeremiah immediately missed the carriage as they began to hike under the heat of the desert sun, the straps of his pack digging into his shoulders.

　　A profound change had come over Bruno as they walked through the desert. He had become a mouse in a place that distinctly smelled of cat, constantly eying the horizon. Jeremiah swore he was hunching just a bit lower to the ground. It made Jeremiah feel as though there were unseen enemies in every direction.

　　When the sun dipped toward the horizon on the third day of walking, Bruno called a halt. He pulled a broad, hooded cloak from his pack and fastened it to his shoulders. The longer Jeremiah looked at the cloak, the more hues he was able to see. Small stones had been affixed among the dappled reds and oranges, seamlessly blended in a facsimile of the landscape.

　　"I should be back in three or four days," said Bruno. "If I`m away longer than six it means I was caught but infiltrated the group and am now working from the inside. Have Allison take charge and plan an ingress and attack, I`ll find you. Otherwise, wait for me here. Don`t draw attention to yourselves. No open fires. I want you all on alert. We`re in enemy territory now and our enemy is patient, clever, and ruthless." Bruno threw up the hood of the cloak and disappeared into the landscape.

　　The camp was tense and quiet while they waited. Allison re-oiled her gear, despite having done it just before leaving home. Delilah busied herself with short forays into the desert, gathering samples of the scant flora. Jeremiah hid in the shade of the rocks near their camp and tried not to think about what might be taking Bruno so long.

　　Bruno returned just after sunset on the fifth day. He didn`t greet anyone however, instead heading straight for the water stores. He refilled his canteen and drained it twice before indicating to the others that he was ready to share what he`d seen.

　　"Minor problem," Bruno said once they were gathered around him. "This isn`t a bandit camp. It`s a bandit fortress. Stone walls and gate, towers, parapets, the whole deal."

　　Allison`s jaw dropped. "How the hell did they build a fortress all the way out here? Where did they get the manpower?"

　　"I`m more curious where they got the expertise myself," said Delilah. "A proper fortress is more than just a rock wall. Bruno, does it look engineered?"

　　Bruno nodded. "Very. I didn`t see inside, but the walls definitely have rooms in them. Multiple exits into the courtyard from the wall interior." Bruno picked up a stick and began drawing in the sand. He sketched a large square, indicating round towers in the corners and a gate on one side. Opposite the gate, he drew a smaller square that Jeremiah recognized as a keep.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

　　They all stared at the drawing. Jeremiah tried to stay optimistic. "If it`s cramped quarters, I`ll be at an advantage," he said. "Zombies won`t have to travel far to reach new targets, and they fight well in hallways."

　　"We have to get inside first," said Delilah.

　　"You`re in charge, Bruno," said Allison, "Do we scrap the mission or not?"

　　Bruno didn`t hesitate. "No. Like I said, it`s a minor problem. We`re going to need to scale the wall and avoid detection at the same time. I have a grapple for that, but if we`re spotted, we`ll be brought down by numbers alone."

　　Flusoh`s voice sounded in Jeremiah`s mind. The more the merrier!

　　"Once inside, we`re stuck," Bruno continued. "There won`t be any way to back out until the entire group is neutralized. If we try to retreat, they`ll track us through the desert. Can you all accept that?" Everyone nodded. Jeremiah`s stomach cramped as the seriousness of the situation sank in.

　　"Alright," said Bruno, and his tone darkened. He spoke to all of them, but Jeremiah felt like this was directed specifically at him. "Once we`re inside, we`re pure cutthroat. I`m not a fan of killing men in their sleep, but I won`t hesitate either. If any of you can`t stomach that, say so now." Allison and Delilah looked like they had been asked to swallow something exceptionally rancid.

　　"I-I`m not sure I can&" said Delilah.

　　Bruno nodded.

　　"I`d rather not, but it wouldn`t be the first time I`ve had to," said Allison, "I`d sooner leave that kind of&work to you, Bruno, but if you need me, just say so."

　　Bruno nodded again and looked to Jeremiah.

　　"I`ve never killed anyone asleep or awake," said Jeremiah, "but I assure you the zombies won`t make a distinction."

　　"The zombies&won`t?" Bruno sighed. "You were right, we need to have the talk, Al."

　　Allison nodded, and she and Bruno moved to stand together in front of Jeremiah. All at once Jeremiah felt a different kind of nervousness, like he was about to be lectured by stern parents.

　　Allison started. "Listen Jay, we`re going to be counting on you not to panic in there. Killing people isn`t easy. I believe that you`ll protect us and protect yourself, but it`s not going to be cut and dry like you think."

　　Bruno said, "The men and women in there will do what they need to do to survive. They`ll cry, they`ll beg, they`ll bargain, they`ll lie. You might be faced with a pretty little waif of a girl that tells you, through tears, that she`s a slave and begs you not to hurt her. That girl will more than likely wait for you to turn your back and then shiv you in the liver."

　　"You need me to just kill without mercy?" Jeremiah asked. His heart tightened at the question. He couldn`t believe they were asking him to be ready to murder innocents.

　　"Absolutely not!" said Allison. "But you need to know what acceptable mercy is. You`ll need to make a snap judgement of anybody who surrenders to you. You`ll be their judge, jailor, and executioner, and you have only the span of a second for the trial."

　　Jeremiah imagined deciding on the death of a waif of a girl and felt cold. He silently prayed he wouldn`t need to call that particular court to order. "I`ll do what I have to," he said. "I won`t let any of you get hurt."

　　Bruno held his eye for a long moment. "Alright," he said at last. "We trust you." He turned to the others. "We will have a window tomorrow evening. It will be narrow, but it might be the only one we get for a long time. We head out at first light."

　　Jeremiah tossed and turned for hours before managing to doze off. He felt like he had barely closed his eyes before he was being shaken awake by Bruno. "Up and out, double time."

　　Without complaint, they began to follow Bruno through the desert. The sky was still dark but for a blue highlight that glowed over the horizon. Jeremiah admired the landscape as the sky lightened—without the heat or sun, the Tarnothy Desert was rather beautiful. Wind-worn rock formations jutted out of the ground like massive sculptures and dried up river beds wound off into the distance. He saw animals he had never seen before—horned snakes, spotted lizards, even a small owl hooting at them from atop what had once been an ambitious tree.

　　Their hike continued as the sun traveled the sky. The trail Bruno struck was across smooth, even terrain, and would have made for an easy journey if not for the oppressive heat. Jeremiah gripped his spear, hoping his practice would help him do what he needed to do. His healing potion was in its pouch, and Gus was safely in his reinforced pocket. He was as ready as he could be.

　　The fortress rose out of the dark landscape like it had been hewn from the red rock itself. Its walls rose several stories, with regular windows cutting black slits into the stone. Several windows flickered with candlelight in the growing dark, giving the impression of eyes roving the landscape, as if the fortress itself were a sentry against the dangers of the desert.

　　A horn sounded, crooning low into the distance. Shadowy figures patrolling atop the wall began to scurry about.

　　"There they are," breathed Bruno.

　　A few moments later, Jeremiah spotted a distant line of lights winding its way towards the fortress. As the line approached, he was able to make out torches and lanterns along a long train of wagons. Each cargo carrier was piled with goods battened down by tarps, and one sturdy wagon was carrying an entire tun cask that rocked dangerously with every disturbance in the makeshift road. The gate`s metal-banded doors swung forward to admit them.

　　"Perfect," whispered Bruno. "They were headed out on a ranging when I first got here. Looks like it was successful. They`ll be exhausted, dehydrated, and will break into that barrel to celebrate. With any luck, they`ll be blind drunk in an hour. Until then, we wait. Quietly."

　　They huddled against the embankment, senses on high alert. Bruno nodded as cheers rose from the fortress. It wasn`t long before a fruity scent tickled Jeremiah`s nose. Cheers became songs, songs became a chaotic blend of shouts and roars, meaningless mad screams that echoed off distant mountains. Then the noise began to die down, fading slowly as the revelry gave way to sleep.

　　Jeremiah`s pulse quickened as silence fell. Soon the bloodshed would begin.

　　Bruno signaled them and they peaked out over the embankment again. The lights in the windows were fewer, as were the figures on top of the wall. "Oh Mr. Leaner, you`ve had yourself something to drink haven`t you?" Bruno chided the lone figure that stood on top of the nearest wall. "Naughty, naughty. Mr. Swagger won`t like that. And where`s your buddy, Mr. Helmet?"

　　Jeremiah noticed that Bruno`s nerves seemed to have subsided now that the moment of action was nearly upon them. For some, he supposed, waiting was the hardest part. Not for Jeremiah. His own anxiousness was increasing with each passing moment.

　　Jeremiah squinted in the darkness as the guard Bruno had quietly admonished leaned against his spear, sagging further and further. The figure almost toppled over, jerking awake. Then he began to lean again.

　　"I`m going in," said Bruno. "Eyes open. Be ready to move."

　　Bruno noiselessly slipped down the earthen embankment and lay flat as soon as he touched the ground. From there he began a painfully slow crawl, his painted cloak making him invisible in the darkness as he inched closer and closer to the wall. Mr. Leaner shook his head and stretched, none the wiser that his death approached. Bruno kept right on crawling until he reached the base of the wall itself. Then he stood up flat against the wall and drew his bow, nocking an arrow. He pulled the bowstring tight, then darted out several feet into no man`s land, spun and took a knee, aiming upwards. He must have made some sort of noise because Mr. Leaner perked up and glanced around.

　　Mr. Leaner looked over the edge of the wall without a care in the world. Bruno`s arrow sailed straight into the man`s chest, trailing a gossamer thread behind it. The man started to reel backwards but Bruno braced his feet and pulled. The man stumbled toward the wall`s edge, Bruno already sprinting toward the spot he would land. Mr. Leaner`s body fell like a rag doll and hit the ground with a soft thud. Bruno dragged the body into the shadow of the fortress, and crouched, cloak wrapped tight.

　　There was no cry of alarm, no calls, no reaction from the fortress at all. It kept staring into the desert, unconcerned about the single flea that had abandoned it.

　　Bruno emerged from his camouflage cocoon, assembling a grappling hook at the end of a rope. He swung the hook in a few wide circles before throwing it up and over the edge of the wall. The rope pulled taut. They all listened for a tense moment. Then Bruno began to scale the wall with fantastic speed. He disappeared over the top. Moments passed like hours as they waited for some signal.

　　Allison kept her eyes on the fortress. "I`ll go up first, then Jay, then Delilah. I`m going to haul you both up, so don`t be surprised."

　　Finally, a figure appeared on the beside where Mr. Leaner had stood. There was a tiny yellow spark like someone striking flint.

　　"Move!" commanded Allison in a harsh whisper. The three of them slid down the embankment and ran for the fortress. Without breaking stride, Allison seized the rope dangling from the wall and seemed to run straight up. She disappeared over the top and waved at Jeremiah.

　　Jeremiah seized the rope. He started climbing, grateful for the knots that had been tied into it. His hands were slick with sweat, but he was able to use his feet to push himself from knot to knot. The rope below him went taught as Delilah grabbed on, and then he was sliding up along the wall, clinging to the rope with a death grip as he bounced and scraped along the coarse stone that had looked so smooth from a distance.

　　Allison hauled him over the parapet. From the wide walk atop the wall, Jeremiah got his first view of the fortress courtyard. It was lit with a ring of torches, with several tables arrayed across it. The great wine barrel had been propped up beside the entrance to the squat keep. There were a few still figures lying about the yard, drunken into a silent stupor.

　　Bruno was already gone. Another rope tied to a stone protrusion on the inside edge of the wall hinted as to his whereabouts. Allison sent Delilah after him first.

　　Jeremiah scanned the battlements. Only three other figures patrolled the fortress perimeter. One was pacing, and the other two looked like they might be asleep standing up. Allison stared them like she was ready to kill them from here. She practically pushed Jeremiah after Delilah.

　　He gripped the rope and slid down very carefully, terrified of damaging his hands at a time like this. His muscles ached with the effort, but at last he reached the open space of a window. A pair of arms grabbed his legs and pulled him into the pitch-black room.

　　Jeremiah`s feet touched solid ground with a soft splash. Water? Oh gods, he didn`t step in a chamber pot, did he?

　　"Eyes on," whispered Bruno. Jeremiah accepted the vial Delilah handed him and let a drop of liquid fall into each of his eyes. He winced as the sting gave way to grayscale vision of the room. Then he froze. There were at least eight men asleep in here, lying in bed rolls and straw pads or piles of burlap. One noise and we`ll be surrounded!

　　Allison entered the room with a splash and a thud. Jeremiah recoiled and pressed a finger to his lips. She put her own eyedrops in and looked at him shushing her. She pointed down and used her foot to tap the head of one of the sleeping men. Jeremiah recoiled. Then he saw the deep gash across the man`s neck, exposing skin, fat, muscle, and the pipes of blood hidden within.

　　Jeremiah suddenly understood what he was standing in. He looked around with growing horror, becoming aware of the scent of blood all around them. The entire floor was layered with it.

　　Bruno was already moving toward one of the two doors in the room. He motioned to Jeremiah and Allison. Allison promptly took up a guard position beside Bruno`s door. Jeremiah swallowed, then splashed through the shallow lagoon of blood to follow suit at the other door across the room. He held his spear at the ready, willing his hands to stop trembling.

　　Bruno had just raised his hand to motion them all into the next room when Jeremiah`s door swung open.

　　A grizzled, pimply man stepped in. He was carrying a torch and stunk of wine. The man saw Jeremiah brandishing a spear and paused to make sense of the scene in front of him.

　　Time slowed down for Jeremiah. He saw every detail of the man: the silly pointed hat, the shortsword at his belt, the generous red stains on the collar of his shirt and neck. He saw the man`s eyes widen in terror at the slaughter in front of him, darting to the people in the room, then back to Jeremiah.

　　Jeremiah had only a moment to strike, to cut off the inevitable scream as the man took a deep breath. His spear trembled like a newborn foal as he reached out and stroked the man`s chest with its point. "Shhhhh!" Jeremiah whispered, as though the man`s alarm was going to be very rude.

　　I can`t move&I can`t&Oh gods, I`ve killed us all, Jeremiah thought. In that moment he hated himself more intensely then he had hated anything in his entire life.

　　The man`s scream of alarm left his lungs as a wheeze as a whirling blade impacted his temple, burying itself up to the hilt, its tip protruding from the other side. The man died instantly, wobbling on his feet as though his drunkenness had outlived him, before falling.

　　Bruno stalked toward Jeremiah, his face a mask of fury. Jeremiah hugged his spear to his chest and tried to sputter an apology, but the words wouldn`t come out. Bruno braced his foot against the man`s head and wrenched the dagger out with an eruption of blood. He yanked the door shut, kicking the body out of the way, and doused the torch in the blood, which hissed and bubbled. He then turned and threw Jeremiah down so hard he spun and fell face down in the grisly lagoon.

　　Bruno stood over Jeremiah and bared his teeth. "Stay here," he spat. "Play dead. We`ll get you when we`re done." Delilah and Allison gave him pitying looks, but they stepped through the opposite door, leaving only Jeremiah and the dead.

　　Jeremiah felt the still-warm blood seeping into his robes and curled his knees against his chest. A voice in his head sneered at him. What are you doing here? You`re no adventurer! You`re no hero! You`re just a cowardly little boy who will never amount to anything. Hurry up and pretend to be dead, maybe you can at least do that right."

　　He felt lonelier than he had ever been in his life. He wanted to go home, to his real home, wherever that was. He would be safe there. Stable, unchanging, secure.

　　Jeremiah didn`t know how long he lay curled up in blood, reliving the moment of his failure over and over again. By the hundredth time, his jaw ached from clenching. The taste of blood had seeped into his mouth.

　　Enough. Jeremiah stood on shaking legs and spat. Rivulets of blood streamed from his hair and robes and fingertips. He kicked his spear away with a spray of blood. He was alone in an ocean of death, surrounded by darkness and corpses. He was a necromancer.

　　Dead ears listened to soft incantations. He repeated them over and over again, weaving symbols with blood-soaked hands with increasing conviction.

　　Rise.