After trying to stay awake for Gunnolf’s return, everyone finally fell asleep, and dawn came once more. Chasing the night and banishing the overhead cast of clouds. The streets were still soaked and glistened with the midnight rain that showered through.

  Atzler awakened in his room alone, tossing himself half asleep before his eyes fully opened. “Lylen?” there was no sign of her. He stood up and got changed into his usual attire. “Yuck! I need to wash these clothes soon,” he grumbled catching a whiff of the scent on them. Tying his purple bandana around his temples once more so where his red hair would stick up again made him feel like he was ready to face the day. Leaving the room behind he took notice of Dusaak in the hall. “Is everything alright, Dusaak?”

  The jormagand growled in a low tone as he followed Atzler downstairs to the common room. Entering the room Olin sat at a table along with Lylen and Gunnolf who were enjoying a breakfast. A bowl of steaming ground up corn meal and honey glazed buns were next to Olin.

  “You still haven’t told any of us where you went off to last night, Gunnolf,” Lylen cut into him in a low but commanding tone.

  Gunnolf quietly ate his meal, a bowl of rice and strips of what appeared to be gravy drowned beef. The aroma caused Atzler to wander over and take a seat next to Olin. The monk scooted the corn meal and buns to the red-haired elf.

  Lylen’s frustration was rising but Olin tapped her arm, “I’m sure he had good reasons for vanishing last night, what matters now is we are all here and alive.”

  Lylen sighed, “I suppose. I’m not sure if I’ll ever understand you Gunnolf.”

  He stared through the tuft of hair that obscured his eyes. “Were you meant to?” he asked and, in that instant, something itched her memory. A young, furry man like Gunnolf perhaps but her mind ached for trying to recall it fully.

  “Are you alright?” Olin asked, noticing her wince and bring a hand to her temple.

  “Yeah, just a minor headache,” she answered.

  After their meal was finished, they paid their tabs before perusing the town. There were no signs of the Illisean Knights from the previous evening. Stopping off at the smithy, Gunnolf was able to purchase a new tanto with a pearl resting in the hilt of the steel blade for only four hundred Zoa.

  “Pearl is infused with the weapons here in Parcielle, I wonder why?” remarked Olin seeing Gunnolf examine the new short blade before sheathing it under his waist belt.

  “I heard they are having issues with undead these days,” Gunnolf replied.

  “So, you know about last night?” Atzler asked.

  Gunnolf stared down at him, “What do you mean?”

  “Undead were in the town,” Lylen answered flatly.

  Gunnolf was quiet as he stared at both elves. Undead attacking the town? Kill them and the living.

  “We dealt with them though,” Atzler added in.

  Olin emerged from the shop last along with Dusaak at his side. “They had nothing to really suit my style,” the monk said dryly as he saw his other three companions.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Lylen addressed him, “What will you do now Olin? Do you plan on staying with us?”

  “I think Dusaak and I will visit the caves behind Paryl Falls, there’s an old shrine there in dedication to the Sun Temple. What about you three?” he ended with a curious smile.

  “We continue toward Axo Mine,” Gunnolf said.

  Olin approached the kobold and held his hand out, “Very well, ‘til we meet again Gunnolf.”

  Gunnolf shook it after a moment of staring, “Until we meet again Olin of the Sun Temple.”

  Olin looked to Lylen and Atzler, “You both take good care. I’m sure we’ll meet again,” Olin and Dusaak then parted ways from the trio. The jormagand looked back only once and stayed alongside his master, matching his pace.

  Gunnolf led the two elves out of the town, overhearing the townsfolk of dwarves and raxen talk about the Knights from Illisea and some mutterings of the undead attack from the night prior. Those speaking of the Illisean Knights mentioned they had gone to the northwestern woods; there was speculation over what they sought.

  The road outside soon split between east and south routes, Gunnolf along with Lylen and Atzler took the east road toward the mine while south would inevitably lead back to Grok Pass. The massive cliffside before them ran as far they could see in both directions, and they couldn’t see the top of it from being this close. Hills began rolling and getting steeper as their path winded between them to minimize the inclines.

  “I wonder what this mine is like?” Atzler pondered aloud.

  “I am glad to finally see Zarmhel after so long,” Lylen added.

  Gunnolf was quiet. Suddenly, screams were heard to their south over a small hill. The clashing of metal weapons as more shouts rose.

  “We should go check it out!” Atzler yelled as he darted up the hill.

  “Wait up Atzler!” Lylen yelled. Gunnolf stood there as if wrestling with himself, but his expression was his usual placid and stoic face. “Come on Gunnolf!” Lylen called back to him.

  Atop the hill was a thicket, Gunnolf followed the two elves like a mist ducking between the intertwining branches. He could see the clashing of swords and maces ahead but as to who it was swinging them, was obscured. Gunnolf drew his tanto and his other hand on the hilt of Kazesuki-zhuken as he rushed through.

  As he and the two elves got to the edge of the trees there they were, five animated skeletons surrounded a wagon as the morning sunlight turning the sky into a lighter blue.

  “Back you wicked bones! Back!” the familiar voice of the merchant woman Lylen traded with for a strange ring back in Jakara Woods was atop the wagon while her pygmy cyclops was trying to throw off two other skeletons. The merchant’s red cloak swayed as she thrashed her quarterstaff back and forth.

  “It’s that merchant!” Lylen cried out as she recognized her.

  Atzler threw his hand axe at the nearest skeleton, shattering its spinal cord and upper ribs causing the undead opponent to collapse.

  Lylen’s ring flashed as she chanted, “O fire and flame, burn this foe and scorch it’s essence, Blaze!” A white hot fire pillar engulfed the next skeleton as Gunnolf came upon another stabbing his tanto through the lower back to paralyze it, the pearl set in the hilt sent a white glow from the blade pulsed throughout the whole skeletal structure as the bones fell apart.

  The other skeletons took notice of their new opponents as the pygmy cyclops crushed another after tossing it off his back and caving in its skull.

  Two of the skeletons saw their opposition as they went to attack Gunnolf now, each carrying a sword.

  Gunnolf sheathed his tanto, “Finally, true opponents to wield this blade against,” he muttered as he drew the tachi on his hip. Atzler recovered his axe only to throw it into another one, taking its sword arm off at its shoulder and Lylen cast another spell where another pillar of white fire engulfed the rest of it.

  The two before Gunnolf went to charge at him and the kobold sprinted forth, in the blink of an eye he slashed both of them where the spine met the pelvis. Destroy everything! The voice returned but Gunnolf held the Kazesuki-zhuken to its original purpose. Three more skeletons emerged from the other side of the hill, each with short, curved blades in hand.

  “Where the hell are they coming from?” Atzler demanded.

  Gunnolf merely flashed a wicked and sadistic smile toward them. “Bring more this way!”

  Lylen yelled toward the old peddler, “Get you and your cyclops to safety, ma’am! We’ll deal with this.”

  The merchant nodded, “Klode, drag the wagon to the right and away from those monsters!”

  The cyclops nodded in understanding and got moving almost too quickly where the merchant nearly lost her balance on the wagon. When Lylen and Atzler took their attention back to their foes, Gunnolf was already between them like a typhoon with that long sword and bones of the undead scattered in every direction.