Tired Of Death

"Cooo, it's alright for some isn't it?" said Percy as they wandered through vast halls lined with plush furnishings. The zombie ran his fingers along a strangely colored couch. "Look at this. Real Gray Elf skin. Must have taken eight or nine elves to cover this. They cost a fortune you know.

"Come on, stop admiring the fixtures and fittings," said Dreth. "We have to find this manager before someone complains about the guard back there."

"Mmf," said the zombie, but padded after the others, his metal leg clanking on the marble floor.

They walked up a long corridor, through a set of ornate double doors and found themselves in a large room decorated with a variety of hangings. Several comfortable chairs lined the walls. Opposite the door there was a single large wooden counter.

Behind the desk a perfectly formed female figure was sitting, busy filing her nails*. She was dressed in a simple red gown that emphasized her dark flowing hair, which tumbled playfully over her shoulders. Two small horns protruded only slightly from the top of this black mane. The receptionist looked up as they entered and raised a shapely eyebrow. "Well well well, what do we have here?"

"Undead mostly," replied Percy absently. Cuthbert smacked him around the head.

The woman put down the nail file. "And what can I do for you?" The tone of voice she used suggested any number of interesting possibilities could lay in the answer.

Dreth approached her, the rest of the party in tow, and rested casually on the desk. "Listen, we were supposed to have a meeting with the boss, don't suppose he's around by any chance?"

The receptionist leaned forward, exposing a low cut top straining to withhold a more than ample cleavage.

"Holy Dreg!" exclaimed Cuthbert, noticing the woman's figure for the first time. "Hello good looking!" He leered at her. "How about you and me do the dance of the dead baby?"

"Ignore my lecherous friend," said Dreth, "his brain is rotten."

"It's not that rotten," replied the zombie. "This dear lady is fulsome enough to stimulate parts others cannot reach."

"I'm sorry," replied the secretary, "I don't do zombies. They have a tendency to fall apart when the going gets rough." She noticed Redthorne for the first time and licked her lips. "Wizards though, now wizards I like!" She preened and batted her eyelashes at the mage, sending an almost visible surge of l.u.s.t forward. "How about it sweety? Fancy a good time do we? Dump the kid and we can get down and dirty." She jiggled her bosom, producing an interesting effect.

Redthorne coughed and turned red. "Ah, I don't consort with demons," he said. Still, Dreth couldn't help noticing he wasn't addressing her face.

"Back S.u.c.c.u.b.u.s!" Emerald stepped between the two. "Desist from your temptations."

"And who is this?" The receptionist eyed the woman up and down slowly. "Well, not bad. You can join in too if you want, make it a party why not?"

She winked at Emerald, who opened her mouth and flushed.

"Look, we can have an orgy later…" said Dreth.

"We can?" Cuthbert smiled so wide his face split.

"…but now we'd just like to visit your leader."

The S.u.c.c.u.b.u.s pouted, which in no way made her look any less attractive. "Sorry, you're out of luck. He's busy in the library, researching some summoning or other, so I gather. Could be a while."

"Well, yes," said Dreth, improvising quickly. "We know that."

"We do?" asked Percy, looking at Emerald, who frowned at him.

"This is why we have the wizard," Dreth gestured at Redthorne. "He's here to assist. The baby is for a sacrifice."

"Ah, I did wonder." The receptionist sat down and picked up her file again. "Down the hall, second on the left."

"Thank-you," said Dreth walking off and nodded at the others, indicating they should follow.

"Listen," started Cuthbert to the s.u.c.c.u.b.u.s as the others shuffled away. "My parts are quite solid, if you would just…"

"Cuthbert!" Dreth shouted back, interrupted the undeads' chat-up line.

Cuthbert rolled his eyes and moved reluctantly after them.

They marched down a carpet lined hallway. White magical lights lit the passage, casting their glow over a variety of portraits on the walls. The pictures were mostly actions scenes, with various monsters fighting, and usually winning, against a variety of different adventurers.

"This is it," said Emerald, pointing to a large door.

"Right, let's meet this Dungeon Management then," said Dreth, drawing Darkblood. He kicked the door, forcing it open with a crash, and pushed Percy in ahead of him.

"Hey!" the zombie complained.

Dreth paid him no heed, and looked around the room, which was large and square, lined with book-cases and comfortable reading stations. "You!" he shouted. "I want a word with you."

The figure in the corner looked up, his face hidden in the folds of the hooded robe he was wearing. The large tome he had been holding fell to the floor as he jerked with surprise. "What's the meaning of this? I'll have your hides!" He raised his gloved hands and started to make a gesture in the air, but stopped as Darkblood pricked at his c.h.e.s.t.

"Keep very still," said Dreth.

"Who are you? What do you want? Do you realize who I am?"

Dreth leaned forward and smiled his skull smile. "Oh, indeed. And do you know who I am?"

"A soon to be dead…" The figure cut off a moment and peered at him. "Wait a minute! Are you that meddlesome Guardian? The one who has run off?"

"The very one. And I want some answers."

"I don't parley with minions," replied the hooded man haughtily, crossing his arms.

"In that case, I've no reason to keep you around." Dreth pushed Darkblood forward slightly.

"On the other hand, negotiation is often the way forward," said the Management, quickly implementing a policy U-turn.

"I knew you would see reason," Dreth eased the sword back very slightly and looked around. "Nice place you have here."

"Look at me! I'm the boss!" Cuthbert was sitting at a large wooden desk. "Hey! Are these cigars?!" He opened a small box. "Why they are! Dragon Finest Blend. Very nice." He bit the end off one and looked around for a light.

"Why are you here?" asked the Master.

"A question some of us have been asking ourselves for some time now," said Emerald, stepping forward. "Maybe you can provide the answers?"

"You! How did… What are… I mean…?"

"We ask the questions here," interrupted Dreth. "Now, you can start with telling us where to find the treasure."

"The dungeon treasure?"

"No, aunts' secret recipe for chocolate sauce," replied Dreth, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Of course the dungeon treasure!"

"Oh, it's in the Pit, a few leagues north of here, but you need a key to get in."

"That would be the one in the Runebox I take it," said Redthorne. "The one our young zombie friend stuck to the Golem."

Dreth scowled. "I don't suppose there's another one by any chance?"

The Master laughed. "Not a chance! We don't make it easy for anyone to stroll in and help themselves." He smiled evilly. "So you'd better give up now. If you promise to return to your post I'll forget this whole thing ever happened."

"There's no other way in?" Percy looked up from a book he was pretending to read.

"No." The Dungeon Master leaned forward slightly, squinting at Dreth. "Who are you anyway? Why is the Overlord so insistent you don't leave? Tell me, and maybe we can work something out. I know what his weakness is you know."

It was Dreth's turn to frown. "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"And who am I? Why have you held me prisoner?" Emerald pushed her way forward.

The Manager rubbed his hands together slightly. "You are part of an agreement with have with a Lower Power my dear. I'm afraid you will have to return to your casket, or It may get annoyed."

"It? Who is It?" Emerald asked.

The Dungeon Master chuckled from within his hood. "Sorry. The time for answers is over. Now you will pay for your insolence!" He raised a hand even as Dreth lunged forward with Darkblood.

The sword pierced the robe, but it was too late. The body of the Master no longer filled it, and it dropped down to hang loosely around the blade, which howled with anger.

At the same time shouts and the sound of many footsteps could be heard from the corridor outside, approaching quickly.

Dreth ran over to the door just as the burly figure of an orc entered the room. He pushed the guard to one side, smashing him head first into one of the bookcases, and slammed the door shut, leaning on it to prevent anyone else entering. "Percy, Cuthbert, find something to barricade us in, quickly!" he shouted. The door vibrated as someone bounced off the other side.

The zombies and humans hurriedly dragged a desk and a heavy bookcase over, and the portal was soon wedged shut.

"Now what?" asked Cuthbert, picking up his cigar again. "That won't hold them forever."

"Mage, spell us out of here!" Emerald said.

"I can't, unless you can think of a way to nullify the Spite," Redthorne answered.

"Why do we still have this wizard?" asked Percy. "He's no use to us unless he can cast some kind of spell."

"Let's give them the female," said Cuthbert. "Maybe they will trade our release for her."

"Try it zombie, and you will be looking for a metal head to match your leg," said Emerald, suddenly fierce.

"Stop your bickering," shouted Dreth. "Let me think." He turned to look at the guard he had thrown to one side before. Reaching down, he picked the Orc up by the collar with one hand and slapped it around the face until it woke up. "How do we get out of here?" he hissed.

There was a noise of water hitting carpet. Dreth looked down and made a face. "Oh come on!"

The Orc blubbered. "P… please mister, I just started last week, I knows nothin' I does."

"Then you're no use to me," said Dreth. He made a movement. There was a noise and the Orc shuddered in pain, but only briefly.

Dreth withdrew his hand from the guard's c.h.e.s.t with a s.u.c.k.i.n.g sound. He let go of the body and took a bite out of the heart before looking at the rest of the crew.

"I'm really pissed off now," he declared, waving the dripping organ in his fist. "We come all the way here for what? Nothing."

"You got an Orc heart," pointed out Percy.

"This?" Dreth tossed the thing to one side. It fell the floor with a dull splat. "Tastes horrible. Orcs always do. Now. I think it's time to focus people. Our beloved Manager said we can find the treasure in The Pit, wherever that is. The one place it probably is not is in this castle. So, suggestions?"

"Everyone knows castles have secret tunnels," said Cuthbert. "We just have to find one."

"Right," Dreth snapped his fingers. "Zombies, get on it. Try pulling the books."

"There may be a book that can help us," said Redthorne.

"Fine, check out the books," said Dreth.

The zombies started searching the library noisily. Dreth went over to the desk and picked out a cigar from the box. Had he ever smoked when he was alive? He really couldn't remember. He tucked the smoke in a pocket thoughtfully. Next to the box was a crystal ball on a stand. As he looked at it, there was a flicker of movement. He stopped and looked closer.

The ball was full of mist, as was traditional. As he gazed into its depths, the picture cleared, to show a house surrounded by fields, viewed from above, as if from a bird. As he watched, the view moved closer, zooming down over the roof and slowing, to show a yard full of chickens. A figure was feeding them, a young elf maid, with long flowing golden hair, dressed in a simple yet fetching dress.

The elf was muttering to herself as she threw grain to the animals. Suddenly she looked around, as if startled by something, and appeared to gaze straight at Dreth, her piercing eyes boring straight into his.

The image disappeared with a dull flash of light as Percy shouted. Dreth looked up, annoyed for some reason at the interruption.

"Woohoo! Just call me secret passage finder!" The zombie attempted to do a little jig, but ended up tripping over his own metal leg and landing on the floor with a crash.

With a last puzzled glance at the crystal ball, Dreth walked over the zombie. He stepped over the rec.u.mbent undead, who was writhing about like an upturned beetle, and peered into the passageway that had been hidden behind the book-case. Steep stairs led down. "Well done," he said. "Let's go."

Redthorne moved over to the cloak the Dungeon Master had left behind, and picked it up, peering at it intently.

"Are you coming or not?" Asked Dreth.

"This robe has a powerful aura," replied the wizard. "It may be more than it looks."

Dreth strode over and held the garment up to the light. "Looks normal to me."

"Yes, well, you're not a wizard are you? Trust me, this is a magical robe."

Dreth nodded and stuffed the Master's robe into his bag. "As you say. However, for now let's get out of here, before they break in the door."

As if to emphasize his point there was a loud crash as the guards finally got themselves sorted out into a battering team.

They got out, Dreth closed the passage door once he was through, leaving the empty library behind them.

*Into points.