Taking the shortest and fastest route from Bistin to Glanchester, Harold, Nightingale, and Lauren arrive at their destination at dusk within the week. A sizable town, it had all the amenities and then some, but certain qualities were lacking in comparison to Bistin. Homely, Glanchester welcomes the party with a large wooden arch and fence as they continue inward.

“What is the plan, Mr. Sasse? Are we going to do… do the you-know-what to the you-know-who?” Lauren asks as she glances around and whispers to Harold.

“You don’t need to be so secretive. I’ve been thinking about what to do this entire trip here and honestly it’s hard to say. The one factor that keeps throwing a wrench into my plans are those adventurers. 5th level magic is powerful and the people who can use it are rare and few between. Knowing just that, I can assume the rest of them are all up to par at least.”

“Are the adventurers really that strong?” 

“It’s a coin toss I say. Really depends on the individual, but when grouped they become more deadly and efficient. If anything adventurers are resourceful and quick-witted, but at the same time they have volatile tempers and unpredictable natures…”

“Kind of sounds like you Mr. Sasse…”

“Are you getting sassy with me, girl?”

“No… I just… I was just pointing out something I’ve noticed…” Lauren states as she looks away towards the ground. 

Hmph… as I was saying. I have a plan, but it would involve finding a graveyard…”

“A… a graveyard? But, that… that sounds dubious. What are you going to do at a graveyard?”

“Hmmm…” Harold hums as he puts a hand to his chin. “I guess… I’ll have a party…? Hard to say without spoiling it too much, but I’ll be needing bodies for sure.”

“That… that doesn’t sound reassuring.”

“You need to ease up. This is necessary for the plan to work.”

“Still though… having anything to do with someone else’s grave seems to be… wait… no… It is immoral! Are we going to do something illegal? Mr. Sasse, please… Please don’t tell me that we are going to do something illegal!”

“Lauren,” Harold sternly says, catching the girl’s attention. “We are here to commit murder. And the person we are here to kill is a noble of this country. Conspiracy to kill nobility is a crime in and of itself that’s punishable by death. We have already gone this far. Might as well break all the laws and taboos if we are damned from the beginning.”

“But… but isn’t desecrating a grave morally wrong?”

“Isn’t killing another person morally wrong? And who said anything about desecretation?” Confused, Lauren wonders what Harold could possibly do at a graveyard. Dismissing Lauren’s fretting with a wave of his hand he states, “You should stop worrying about morals. Don’t you want to find your brother? If you do; just forget about what is good or evil and just do what is necessary.”

Contemplating on those words, Lauren grips her clothes tightly. Two precious months have passed since the destruction of Norbury and she is finally on the cusp of finding her little brother Paul. “I… I’ll do what I can…” she answers dejectedly. 

“Good. Now the other part of this plan is going to involve you.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“Do you know how to use magic items?” The rider asks.

“I’ve never really seen one other than these special bags that you’ve handed me.”

“Then I’ll have to show you how to use them once we get to the graveyard.” Lauren nods her head in affirmation as she continues to follow Harold through the sleeping streets of Glanchester.

The roads were lit by torches and the waxing moon. Clouds moving through the sky, the town’s atmosphere is quiet as the stars shimmer above them. Not many are out. Those who were, are either in a hurry to get home or tipsy with wine and ale. Taking various streets, the party eventually finds themselves at a place of worship. A church at the outskirts of town and with it comes an acre of land for those resting in peace. Sneaking past the church and coming towards the entrance of the graveyard, they come across the ground’s keeper making his rounds. A dingy, old man in a trenchcoat walking amongst the graves.  He carries with him a lantern that illuminates his surroundings and a staff to aid his ailing step.

“Crap. Wait, hold up. There’s a night keeper,” says the rider, stopping the party’s movement. Harold takes his chained book at his hip and opens it up with one hand. Flipping through the pages, he quickly finds and points at what he needs. Making a gesture with his free hand; the letters in the book beginning to emit a green glow. “Sleep…” Harold casts wistfully. Translucent, neon green aether emanates from his spellbook as his words seep out from his mouth. Gliding upon the wind, it carries Harold’s words towards the groundskeeper’s ear. The moment they touch the man’s eardrum, the groundskeeper’s eyes start to flutter shut as he falls over with a thump with snoring soon following after. “Hurry and tie him up,” Harold states, giving his orders.

Quickly moving, Lauren takes out rope used for camping from the bags. Tying the elderly man’s hands and feet together, Lauren then gags him making sure that he doesn’t wake up yelling for help. “Where should we put him?” Lauren asks as she double checks the knots; securing them in place. 

“Put him a dark corner somewhere. We’ll need to make sure that no one disturbs us for the duration of the night,” saying so, Harold continues further into the cemetery leaving Lauren to her task. “Come find me after when you're done hiding him. I shouldn’t be too far away.”

Watching Harold and Nightingale trot along, Lauren gives a sigh of resignation as she drags the sleeping old man into an adequate hiding spot inside a shed. Wiping her forehead of sweat, she exits the shack to eventually find Harold standing next to a tree on top of a hill that overlooks the entirety of the graveyard. 

“I hid the night keeper just as you asked,” Lauren states as she approaches a man brooding over some bags. “What are we going to do now? You still haven’t told me what you’re going to do at this cemetery.”

“Here. Take these,” Harold says without answering Lauren as he hands her several items and clothes. Taking an armful from Harold, she notes what they look like. Matching green shoes and a cloak. A chain shirt that shimmers like silver. And an assortment of miscellaneous items: packets of fine sand, a bag of large, black marbles, a prism, a necklace with several beads, a hollow metal tube, a finely-carved stone, and a stick with several notches on it. But the most eye catching of them all is the curved dagger that had a green sheen to its edge. “These are the magic items that you’re going to be using. You’re going to have to do a thing called attunement for the cloak, but it shouldn’t take too long. Only an hour.”

“Uhhh, what am I supposed to do with this?” the girl asks as she picks up the weapon given to her.

“You’re going to be the one carrying out the assassination.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re going to be the one to kill Albert Coulkett.”

“E-excuse… me…?”

“You’re going to be the one sneaking into the manor and killing the target while I distract the guards.”

Swallowing hard, Lauren opens her mouth with a quivering lip. “E-e-e-excu-excuse… me…?” she stutters, repeating her question for a third time.

“Holy shit. What do you not understand? I’m putting this in the simplest terms aren't I?”

“H-how am I supposed to get into a protected house undetected and kill someone without notice?”

“That’s what the magic items are for.”

“These are magic items?” pointing to the stone and tube with her eyes. “They don’t look very magical to me.”

“Magic items look no different from their everyday counterparts. It’s just that they have some special abilities and then some.”

“But that still doesn’t explain how a magic rock or a magic tube is going to help me get into a house unless… I’m supposed to throw this through a window?” she asks as she holds the stone in her hand.

“That stone comes in a set of two and you can use it to send a message to the other,” Harold states pointing to the item in her hand. “And you use the tube to open secured locks and doors, though it has a limited amount of uses.”

“Oh… but what about this stick?”

“A wand of magic missiles.”

“Okay… but how am I supposed to use any of these? I don’t even know what the other stuff does, much less know how to use them.”

  Audible frustration can be heard coming from the knight. “I thought this would be more self-explanatory…” Harold states rubbing his forehead. Shaking his hand he says, “Let’s forget about that for now and let’s refocus on getting you attuned to the cloak.”

She frowns at him, but follows Harold’s demands. “So how do I attune to a cloak?” Lauren asks.

“Hold the cloak, close your eyes, and focus on it. Do this for an hour and you’ll feel a connection with it.”

“I see…”

“Alright sit down and do the attunement. I need to get the distraction ready.”

Nodding her head, Lauren sits down under the tree and closes her eyes and tries to focus all of her attention onto the cloak. Darkness fills her vision. She hears nothing around her other than the rustling of branches and leaves in the air. An inordinate amount of time passed until Lauren felt something reaching out to her. Responding to this sensation, Lauren mentally extends her hand and grabs whoever that is reaching out for her. Feeling as though she had grasped something she opens her eyes as she finds herself wrapped in the cloak. Her head is then filled with information about the item and what it could do.

“Whoa… this… this is… this is amazing…” Lauren states excitedly. Lifting up the cloak’s hood over her head, she notices how it changes colors to match its surroundings just as her intuition told her. “Ohhh! This is pretty neat!” Lauren says in child-like wonder. “I never knew things like these existed! Mr. Sasse, are all magical items like this one?” she asks as she looks around for the knight. Pivoting her head left and right, she sees Nightingale, but the rider is nowhere to be seen. She then hears an eerie moaning echoing beyond her vision. “What… what is that?” she asks herself quietly. Walking to where the groaning is emanating from, Lauren finds herself overlooking a grotesque scene coming to its completion. “Oh no… Mr. Sasse… this… this goes beyond what I had imagined what you would be doing…”

Hours later at the Coulkett Estate, the Red Talon Troupe can be seen relaxing in the second floor lobby of their employer’s home. A man with an eye-patch and grey hair has his eyes closed as he is approached by one of the estate’s guards. “Mr. Graham! Mr. Graham, Sir!” he yells in an exhausted and hurried tone. “Th-th-there’s big trouble outside! Th-th-the patrol outside! W-w-we saw…!!”

Puffing out a cloud of smoke with a cigar in hand, a red-hair young man lazily turns his head. “Calm down, bucket head. You’re bothering, Boss.”

Slowly opening his eye, the grey-haired man sharply inhales and glares at this guard. “What is it?” he coldly asks.

“There’s a… there’s a… there’s a mob of undead enclosing onto the estate!!”

“The undead?” wistfully says a hooded figure in the corner.

“A mob you say? And the undead kind too?” chimes a musician tuning his lute.

“Does… does that mean we get to KILL, BOSS?!” roars a bare chested man covered in scars.

The worried and stressed guard is looking around at the men hired by his master, Baron Frederick Coulkett, and thinks to himself, “Why did the master hire these hooligans? I understand Mr. Graham Kite, but the rest are…”

“It’s not nice to think about others like that you know?” interrupts the musician.

Confused and surprised, the guard snaps his head towards the bard as he asks, “H-how did you know what I was thinking?”

Ignoring the layman, the bard grabs his instrument by its neck and addresses his troupe leader. “So Boss. What’s the plan? I’m all tuned up and ready to go.”

Placing his hands on his knees, he slowly gets up from his armchair; pushing back the guard. Resting next to him are his two sheathed swords: a longsword and a cutlass. Graham Kite grabs his weapons as he puts them onto his sword belt. “Thorvald and I will go down to secure the ground level while Marius provides cover fire from the roof. Aurelian, you thin out any mobs that have yet to reach the manor. Damon you will provide support as necessary like always,” commands Graham as he shouts out his orders to his entourage. 

“Alright. Got ya, Boss. I’m going to head for the skies then,” smirks the young man as he heads to a window to open it.

The hooded figure nods as he heads to the balcony, “Damon. Are you coming to the roof with me?”

“Seems like it, Marius,” the bard replies with a tip of his hat.

“KILL KILL KILL!!” excitedly screams their companion as he starts to hype himself up into a barbaric frenzy.

“Thorvald. Save that till the enemy approaches,” orders Graham as he begins walking towards the downstairs.

“Mr. Graham, what should I tell the baron?” the quivering guard asks.

Unsheathing his longsword and resting it on his shoulder, he says to him, “Tell. him not to worry. This isn’t something that we can’t handle. Though it is strange,” he finishes with a quizzical tone. 

“And what about us guards?”

“Make sure the Baron and his family are safe and stay out of our way.” Turning away he faces his crew. Giving one last statement to everyone. “Alright, boys. Stay alive and keep an eye out for anything suspicious. It’s time to earn tonight’s coin.”

Opposed to the aloofness of the first floor, the situation on the ground floor of the manor is hectic. The servant staff and guards are scurrying about in a panic as they try to organize themselves. Questions are being thrown left and right as no clear direction or orders are given.  

“Daniella!! What is happening, what is going on?!” asks a confused maidservant, stopping her friend in the middle of a chaotic hallway.

“There’s a mob of undead coming to the manor! The guard patrol spotted them not too long ago!!” 

“An undead mob?! Why an undead mob of all things?! And why here?!”

“I don’t know! I’m just as confused as you are Harriet!”

A scared expression washes over her face as her question is answered inadequately. “Where’s the new girl, Sarah!? She wasn’t in the room when I came back from the toilet?! Is she alright?!”

Daniella’s panicked face immediately turns sour. “Sarah?! Sarah… s-she was called to… called to Master Albert’s room ten minutes ago… I’m… I’m so sorry…” The moment Daniella’s words parted from her lips, Harriet’s scared expression turned into one of despair as thoughts about her recently acquired roommate and the Master’s degenerate son flooded her head. 

“B-but, she’s only 15! Doesn’t Master Albert know any--” Harriet begins to say as she is cut off by the sound of an explosion roaring out from the outside. 

The panic heightens as everyone turns their heads towards the windows. Some run to them to see what could be happening outside. There, they see bursts of flame and fire clearing chunks of undead.

“Nobody panic! The mercenaries that the baron hired will take care of things!” a guard states loudly; relaying the information passed to him. “Everyone go back to your rooms and your positions. Things will be handled. I repeat. Things will be handled.”

With the servants calming down, many of them wipe the stress from their forward as relief starts to set in. Harriet on the other hand doesn’t feel any relief at all. Thinking about Sarah, she grits her teeth tightly as this ominous feeling tugs at her.

Being camouflaged by the magic cloak, Lauren sneaks up onto the house using the foliage and shadows as cover. She circles around the outskirts, trying to find a place less heavily guarded. Keeping her attention on a particular entrance, she sees a man running towards it.

“The undead! There’s undead circling in on the manor! Someone! Someone notify the baron!” shouts the running guard. 

“What? Undead?” says one of the guards snapping to attention. Seconds later, the clouds that were blocking the Moon’s light move away to reveal a shambling mob of zombies and decrypt skeletons coming ever closely. The initial shock overtakes the two as one of them starts to fumble with the door yelling, “Undead! There’s undead! The undead are coming!”

Watching their interaction from afar, Lauren looks back towards the mass of undead shambling onward. A mob conjured by Harold. She frowns thinking about him. What is he? What … What kind of person is capable of doing something like this? This goes beyond common sense… Lauren grabs the rim of her hood and pulls it over her eyes as she scrunches down; keeping her eyes on the guards. 

Only as the last of their number finally makes his way through the door and closes it behind him does Lauren make a move. The teenage girl starts to shuffle around as she tries to open her bag. In the next moment, Lauren takes out one of the several packets of fine sand that were given to her earlier. 

“Remember. When you throw this on yourself, anything around that gets covered also goes invisible. So use it discreetly or somewhere no one can see you.” 

Thinking about Harold’s instructions, Lauren breaks the packet open and pours the fine sand into her palm. Tossing it up, she covers herself in it and watches her own figure disappear before her eyes. Making sure that she is completely invisible before moving out into the open, Lauren makes a beeline towards the manor. 

Touching the stone wall, Lauren checks if there are any guards within her immediate vicinity. Circling around the building quickly, she finds a window in which she can easily reach. Taking out a hollow metal tube, she strikes it against the wall and points it towards the window. A clear tone echoes in her ear as a latch opens. Hearing that, Lauren opens the window slowly, climbs through, and closes it to find herself in a room with a large table and several chairs circling around it.

Taking out a finely carved stone she speaks a message into it. “I’m in,” she whispers.

“You’re in? Finally. We’re going to start phase 2 of the plan then.” 

“Okay.”

With his response echoing out in her mind, Lauren puts away the stone and thinks back to the plan Harold had concocted hours earlier. 

“After I cause a distraction with the mob, find a way into the manor. Use the chime if you need to. After you get in, notify me using the stone so that I can begin the second phase of the plan. Once we start, I won’t be able to contact you until we’re done or until you signal that the target is dead.”

“What’s going to happen in the second phase?”

“That’s when I’ll show up and take care of the adventurers as fast as possible. I don’t know if the guards will still be walking around the manor, but a guard or two shouldn’t be a problem if you use the wand.”

“I still don’t understand why I have to do this. Aren’t you strong enough to carry the task out by yourself?”

“It’s called having a contingency plan. Don’t you think that the Baron has some sort of escape route or exit in case of an assassination attempt? Your job is to preemptively stop the target’s escape from happening.”

“So, I’ll have to find and take care of Albert Coulkett on my own potentially?”

“It’s more than likely. Hopefully the baron doesn’t act fast and stays put for a couple of minutes instead of leaving at first sight of trouble.”

“This… this is beyond me…”

“Tough shit. This is something we need to do, so suck it up and deal with it.”

Her memories stop there as Lauren bites her lip. She refocuses on the task at hand. Murder. Can she do it? Murder another person in cold blood? That answer she doesn’t know. Regardless, she walks forward towards the door, but the sound of an explosion happening stops her immediately. Looking towards where booming came from, she wonders about Harold. Is he going to be alright?

“HAHAHAHA!! KILL!! KILL!! KILL!!” A torrent of blades and blood can be seen spinning with a bare chested man as its eye. The barbarian slices his way through dozens of zombies with glee as he uses the weight of his weapon to his advantage; cutting down enemy after enemy.

A few feet from him, a man with a longsword in his right and a cutlass in his left can be seen dashing in and between the scores of zombies. With every step Graham takes an enemy falls. With every swing of his sword, a head rolls.  

“This… seems too easy… Mobs coming to North-East,” Marius states as he notches an arrow; taking down a skeleton.

“I mean. They’re undead. Not much of a brain in the brain’s department you know?” answers Damon. Pointing at a young sorcerer flying in the air, he whispers, “Mobs coming North, North East.”

“Gotcha. Moving now.”

“No… A mass of undead this size going undetected? Isn’t that suspicious?”

“What do you mean? You think there’s a group of necromancers somewhere nearby?”

“Possibly. Though I doubt that they’ll come out now.”

“You want me to relay this to Boss?”

“Good to let him know now rather than later.”

Nodding his head, Damon casts Message. “Necromancers may be nearby.”

“I had the same thought.” answers back Graham. “Make the necessary preparations if more undead show up. Someone may have hired a cult to take out our client.”

Watching the Red Talon Troupe work from afar, Harold sits upon Nightingale analyzing their tactics. “Hmmm… I probably should have brought more… They already tore through half of what I animated.” Finishing that thought, a message pops into his head. 

“I’m in.”

Taking out a finely carved stone he answers back, “You’re in? Finally. We’re going to start phase 2 of the plan then.”

“Okay.”

Putting away the stone. Harold orders his skeleton troops to fire a volley. A flurry of arrows then rain upon the troupe captain and their group’s madman. Thorvald cares not for the arrows as he buffers them with his exposed skin. Graham cuts them down in midair with ease. “Aurelian! Take care of these skeleton archers!” 

“Back that ass up then!” shouts the red-haired man as he flies around the building; casting Fire Bolt as he passes by. Hearing his captains commands, he shoots straight up and claps his hands, “Fireball!!” 

Hearing his invocation, Graham and Thorvald quickly get out of the blast radius as flame and fire explode near them, decimating zombies and skeletons alike. The remaining undead try to retaliate, but as soon as they stand to their feet, their heads are pierced by a single arrow each as Marius notches arrow after arrow. 

“Seeing them get wiped out like this is depressing…” gripes the knight as he starts riding towards the manor. “Hahhh… Alright who do I need to take care of first?” Harold states with a sigh. Looking towards the sky he glares at the sorcerer as he casts his spells mid-air. “That must be the spellcaster. Ah shit… and he’s a flyer too.” Measuring distance from himself to the sorcerer, the rider casts a spell. “Invisibility…” he whispers. And just like that his figure disappears like dust in the wind.

After a few minutes of tearing through hordes of undead, Thorvald crushes a skull beneath his foot and stomps on the brittle bits repeatedly. “AHAHA!! DIE!! DIE!! DIE!! AHAHA!!” What remained of the mobs of undead were little more than broken bones, torn limbs, and sprayed guts on-top of blotches of burnt grass spotted around the Coulkett Manor.

“Thorvald sure is eccentric about fighting… or rather killing…” the bard says grimly; looking over the barbarian’s actions on the roof. “Was that the last of them Marius?”

“Should be… I don’t see any more coming within my sight…”

Pointing at Graham, Damon states, “Doesn’t seem anymore undead are coming.”

Listening to the brief report, Graham only sheathes his cutlass. Keeping his longsword on hand as he can’t shake this strange feeling; like someone had a knife to his throat. “Relay to everyone to not drop their guard. I don’t think this is over just yet,” Graham states, whispering the reply back to Damon.

As his Fly spell comes to the end of its duration, the sorcerer lands next to Graham and lights a cigar with a magical flame. “We handled that pretty quick. A couple of Fireball spells really did the trick,” Aurelian smuggly states with a puff of smoke.

“Don’t let your guard down Aurelian.”

“Yeah yeah Boss, but what about Thorvald over there?” the sorcerer states as he gestures at the psychopath. “It looks like he’s still in a blood frenzy. Should I stop him or should we just wait till he's…?”

Before the sorcerer could finish his sentence, he hears a single word flow into his ears. “DIE.” In that moment, Aurelian’s eyes roll back into his head as he collapses like a falling marionette.

Catching him before he could hit the ground Graham asks, “Aurelian? Aurelian are you okay?” Holding the young-man in his arms he checks his condition. He isn’t breathing and his pulse stopped despite his body still being warm. 

“BOSS!! WATCH OUT!!”

Hearing the warning in his mind, Graham reactively drops Aurelian’s lifeless body as he barely blocks the incoming strike aimed at his neck. Feeling the amount of power behind the attack makes Graham jump back at hair's breadth to lessen the damage; causing him to be sent flying back a couple of yards. Unsteadily landing on his feet, the troupe captain quickly fixes his posture and gaze to see who had attacked him. Who he sees is a knight on his mount. Clad in armor as black as his horse. Wielding a longsword in one hand and a shield in the other. 

“THORVALD!! PINCER ATTACK!!” Shouts Graham as he unsheathes his cutlass once more; making a mad dash towards the assailant. 

Stopping his blood fueled dance, Thorvald pivots his head with a smile and starts to dash towards the enemy seconds after Graham’s sprint. Raising his greataxe, the barbarian slashes wildly upon arrival as Graham leaps up to strike the rider directly as they both attack simultaneously.

Harold uses his sword to parry the barbarian’s reckless attack as he uses his shield to simultaneously block Graham’s retaliation. Seeing that the rider is preoccupied, the bard doesn’t miss the chance to jump down from the roof. “Feather Fall!” he shouts, casting the spell to soften his three-story freefall. The moment his feet touch the ground, Damon sprints for Aurelian’s body as he prepares another spell.

Being pincered by the two warriors, Harold shouts, “Thunderwave!” causing a thunderous boom to emanate from his location. Unable to resist the sudden rise of air pressure, the two men as well as the sorcerer’s lifeless body are blown back several meters as consequence for being too near the rider and his mount. The bard luckily managed to arrive just in time to have Aurelian’s body be blown right into his arms as he clumsily falls from receiving the gift.

“Ah jeez. You owe me one Aurelian…” Damon states angrily as he reaches into a pouch and takes out a sizable diamond that is cut incredibly precisely. “Revivify…” the bard chants as he holds the dead sorcerer in his arms. Casting the spell, the diamond starts to dissipate into the air as it sprinkes itself over the deceased. Aurelian’s body glows for a moment as his upturned eyes return to normal and he gasps for air.

“What… What the hell happened?” the sorcerer asks weakly. “And… why am I in your lap Damon?”

“You died. And that guy showed up out of nowhere and started attacking us. And then I revived you.”

“Ahhh fuck… how much do I owe you?”

“300 GP.”

“What? 300 GP? Fuck me.”

“Better than being dead. Now get off me.”

The sorcerer stands up and takes out a greater potion of healing and chugs down the liquid immediately; restoring his vitality. “Wonderful. You know how to use Revivify. I wonder how you came across that spell?” Harold sarcastically asks aloud for the Red Talon Troupe to hear.

Laughing dryly the bard answers him, “That’s a secret for me to keep and for you to find out.” 

Despite the rather cool atmosphere and the troupe’s chill demeanor, they sharpen their senses to the max as they analyze the rider from top to bottom. Magic Armor and Weapons. Probable demon beast as a stead. High magical capabilities along with a martial prowess on par with Graham and Thorvald combined. Each of them, well most of them, more or less came to the same conclusion.

This might be a problem.