“Alright, what in the gods’ names is your deal?” the short, squat man in front of Mori asked, the aura of someone who has lived far too long about him.

“Well, I’m a lich?” Mori replied, silently asking for clarification.

He shook his head ruefully, “Great, not only is the bag of bones talking, she’s a damn lich. And a friendly one at that. Straight outta a base store paper story…” he mumbled, “Also, why aren’t you gaping at me? I think the fact that I’m a dwarf is pretty damn clear. Why aren’t you acting like it’s the end of the world?”

Mori stared at the small man for a moment, then chuckled to his and his companions’ confusion, “Well, first of all, I’m a can of bones,” she said, gesturing to her armor, “Secondly, I was curious as to whether you exist or not. And third of all, the world is pretty close to ending as it is, so…”

“Wait, the world is ending?” a particularly short dwarf asked, eye twitching as if he were questioning everything in front of him, “Since when? I mean, I never heard of Clockworks flying, but it can’t be that bad, can it?” Mori did her best to give an unamused gaze, “Alright, point taken.”

The first dwarf shook his head, standing up while breathing large breaths, “Alright, I might as well ask, why were you being chased by… something?” he said, looking through the sizable hole left in the ceiling of the cavern. She barely got a glimpse of the Cyst floating in the air before another volley of shells burst on the shield surrounding them. “What in the ancestors’ names was that?” he asked, very confused.

“That’s a Cyst!” VII called from the deck of the Kharon, “That one has been chasing us for days!”

Mori rolled her eye-flames, “I already said that!” she yelled to VII.

“Oh,” VII called back, “Whoops. Mori, we’ve got a lot of things up here that need doing and not enough people doing them! Help us, up here!” VII turned back and stumbled forward, carrying one of the personal skiffs.

Mori stopped in her tracks for a moment, “Ah, crap. I’ll be back!” she called to the dumbfounded dwarves, running up to the wall where her skiff was embedded. In the domed ceiling of the cavern, the sight of a boat lodged most of the way through the top of it at a nearly forty five degree angle was comical in some ways. Saddening to see in others.

She turned her adamantite gauntlets-- the metal’s name firmly imprinted onto her mind after hours of VII’s repetition of the term every time Mori referenced them-- into spiked claws and thrust her hand into the stone. Normally, from what she had seen and been told, stone was almost inconsequential to pierce with her gauntlets-- between her lich’s strength and the material of her armor, it was easy. Despite expectations, however, the stone held up for a second under her pushing fingers, but soon caved. She clambered up the wall, leaping to the skiff once she was close enough.

The deck of the skiff was… bad. Everything was all thrown about, with the food, limited materials, little trinkets Mori took from the reliquary, and death knights all gathered at the ‘bottommost’ point of the skiff, which was where the bow-side wall met the deck’s floor. She looked at Fara, VII, Mae, Ally, Tisi, and Aerolat as they tried their best to gather the scattered supplies into defined piles and sighed. That was… a lot. She stepped forward and got to work.

*=====*

Dunc turned to the two dwarves beside him, then back to the skiff embedded into the ceiling of the cavern. The cavern that was reinforced by three generations of dwarven hands, all putting their effort into making sure that the ceiling stayed high above them. “So,” Gruff said, “Who’s telling the Keeper? I’m not.”

“Ne meither. I mean, Me neither,” Kura added, putting her finger on her nose.

Dunc grumbled, “Dammit you two, I thought you were on my side.”

“We are,” Kura replied, “But you know the rules. You don’t have to be the fastest to survive against a pit lizard-”

“You have to be faster than the slowest dwarf,” Dunc finished, “Still doesn’t mean that I’m happy about it.” He turned to the tower, seeing a very familiar Keeper, “Speak of the lizard,” he snorted under his breath.

The Keeper, still clutching his gnarled stick, hobbled over to them faster than he ever thought the bag of bones could manage, gawking at the skiff embedded into the ceiling, “What in the names of the gods happened here!?” he cried, “That was three generations of dwarven work! It-It will take decades to repair! It-” his crazed ramblings were suddenly and mercifully cut off by the sound of exploding shells raining shrapnel on the perimeter shield. The Keeper winced as carnage reigned on the other side of the thin brown barrier, “Ah… I see… Dunc, what about… that?” the Keeper asked, gesturing to the skiff still lodged into the wall and with occasional shouts traded between the people aboard.

Emphasis on people. There were apparently people mad enough to travel with a lich. Or she was such a powerful necromancer that she raised multiple death knights-- which was debatable considering the odd woman who referred to the lich. The latter option would likely lead to their deaths. Or the world had entirely gone sideways aboveground and liches were just like normal people by then. Dunc still did not know which was the more incredible option.

Another barrage slammed into the shield, drowning out everything else once again. Once the fire died down, Dunc turned to the Keeper, “Well, those people were chased by whatever is up there and they had the pure good luck of falling into our little corner of the underground.”

The Keeper nodded along for a few moments, his facial expression becoming slightly more relaxed, when he sighed, turning to him, “So… let me ask this, then. How did that, an explosion that could not even punch through the perimeter shield, break through twenty feet of dwarf-enhanced rock? Do you have an explanation, or have you simply been ignoring your duties as a guard of this tower?” The Keeper’s face was a facade of calm, but Dunc knew the fury in his eyes was not there for show.

He shifted on his feet, “Maybe there were multiple volleys?” he asked, smiling. If the Keeper bought it, and if Gruff did not sell him out, and Jran and Kura both did not notice them ignoring the crack on the roof, then maybe they could get away with it.

The Keeper eyed him with a death glare for just long enough that Dunc wondered if he was putting on a show when the old dwarf sighed, “Well, no matter. I suppose this was the gods’ wills. They would not bring any poor fools to the far ends of the desert without a purpose. Dunc, have you spoken to any of the surface dwellers aboard the boat?” the Keeper asked, waving his stick around like a third hand.

Dunc turned to the skiff, then to the Keeper, and sighed, “The one to greet us was a lich, Keeper.” Dunc saw the pure confusion written on the Keeper’s face and decided to elaborate, “She is an armored lich mage who led the… group to this part of the desert. We are waiting for them to get their affairs in order.”

The Keeper still stared at the skiff, eventually sighing and leaning on his stick even more, “I see… This is… disturbing,” the Keeper said. He paced back and forth, hobbling along as he spoke, “They are definitely from the gods. That much is certain.”

“Wait, how is that?” Gruff asked, “I doubt they purposely sent any mortals here, seeing as how we’re not that important and all.” Dunc was ready to tell the dwarven idiot off for disrespecting the Keeper, but Kura was way ahead of him, smacking the offending idiot on the back of the head hard enough to send him sprawling onto the stone ground.

“Children,” the Keeper snorted, shaking his head as he paced, “I know what I must do. Get them and bring them to the Shrine chamber,” he said, walking off, “If they refuse, do whatever you must!”

Dunc stared blankly at the retreating figure of the Keeper as the old man hobbled back into the tower. He had no idea how he was going to convince them, “So…” Gruff began, “We’re screwed, aren’t we?”

Kura gave the pipsqueak another smack on the back of his head, “We would be screwed if none of us knew how to use our words. You two aren’t the type to let words do the talking, so I’ll step up for you.” Kura sauntered over to the skiff, craning her neck up and cupping her mouth with her hands, “Hey! Miss Lich Lady!” she shouted.

An armored head, faceplate still down, poked out from the gate-like opening in the side, looking down at Kura, “Yeah?” the lich called back.

“Our Keeper needs you in the Shrine room! Do you think you could come down here for a few minutes?”

The lich paused for a moment, “You guys have a Shrine here!? A real one!?”

“Yeah! It’s the one that the gods gave to us! That one!” Kura called back.

The lich nodded emphatically, “Absolutely! We were looking for one of those! Let me just get a couple people together and we’ll go to the Shrine!” Her head darted back inside the skiff and the shouting soon resumed.

Kura strode back over to them, grinning ear to ear, “See? It’s not that hard,” she said.

Dunc shook his head and stood there, waiting. The day was… definitely not as calm as he would have preferred it. It was much more interesting, though, so he could forgive it.