Mark was already out of his chair and drawing on his coat. “Skeletons, where?”

  The man still standing in the open doorway of the Cup and Crow looked grateful that someone was taking them seriously. “Not sure, I’m just passing the word along. The Guildmaster is in the town square. He’ll know more.”

  “On our way.” Mark was doing up buttons on the coat as he moved with purpose to his room. The armoured breastplate was in there and would be needed.

  Paul matched him step for step. Yellow robes a flutter as he moved. “Got a plan already?”

  “Go see what’s going on.” Mark was all business as he opened the door to his room. “Help how we can.”

  “Right, we’ll know more when we get the full picture.” Paul peeled off to his room. His satchel with it’s book and spell components were waiting for him.

  Francis and Tim were their own bundle of nerves now. Their equipment was already at hand. Francis with his hunting knife, and Tim with their staff. They were prepped and ready within mere moments.

  “So you think we caused this?” Francis spoke low to Tim.

  “Couldn’t have, probably.” Tim replied. “We just beat a bunch of them up, they turned to sparkles too. If they came back they wouldn’t remember things, likely.” They were losing confidence with every passing moment.

  The sound of metal clanking on metal coming around the corner alerted them to Mark’s presence. He was decked out in his thick coat, the metal shell of the breastplate layered on top, and his large axe in hand.

  Paul had smoothed out whatever he had done to his fur earlier and was double checking his supply. “Leather, bark, sand... glass. Yeah all there.”

  “We ready?” Mark asked. He got nods from everyone.

  Mark led the way out into the morning chill. The light of day had broken through only a little. There was a significant amount of cloud cover overhead. It’s gray pallor left things not as bright as they could have been.

  The four of them made their way into the centre of town. Trudging through the deep snow and slush of city streets. They eventually reached the centre of town and found the Guildmaster looming over Tom.

  Tom, who at the best of times wasn’t the most courageous, appeared to be visibly shaking in his boots. The town guard was delivering a report as best he could. Adams apple bobbing up and down with every word.

  The party got within earshot and heard the last of Tom’s talk. “I swear it sir! Skeletons, dozens of them, moving in the trees.”

  “Yes, I hear you.” The Guildmaster chopped with his hand. “But WHERE in the trees?”

  “North sir! North!” Tom gained a visible look of relief as he noticed the four jog up.

  “Skeletons?” Mark asked.

  “So, you know, good.” The Guildmaster got into a certain formal stance, arms behind his back which was ramrod straight. “Emergency quest. Discover what is going on with the reports of skeletons to the north.” He turned his gaze onto Tom. “Take them to the wall, point them in the right direction.”

  Quivering with responsibility, Tom arranges all of his lanky limbs upright and salutes. Fingers clanging off of his helmet which causes him to wince in pain.

  “Get on it.” The Guildmaster threw his head over his shoulder. “Heard your report from Julia, you know what skeletons are.”

  “Aye aye captain.” Francis threw his own mock salute.

  A dark cloud crossed the Guildmasters face. “Git.” was the only thing he said.

  -------------

  “Really shouldn’t antagonize him.” Paul said as they jogged towards the north gate.

  Tom was leading the way, all elbows and knees as he jogged along making an unholy clanging racket from the oversized chain mail armour he was wearing. The others were keeping up easily.

  “Who knew he hated being called captain?” Francis shrugged, the picture of innocence. “Some people should learn about rubber and glue and all that.” His feet made a pitter patter noise far more often than the steady thumps of the taller people.

  The northern gates came into view. The thick and tall palisade walls a solid reminder that they were inside of a city. A city on the edge of the wilds where dangerous things needed to be kept out. A city that was currently under a threat of skeletons.

  As the group arrived, Tom immediately set about getting a ladder placed against the wall. With a thick wooden clack, it landed against the top. He climbed up the rickety looking thing and barely peeked his head over the top of the pointed wooden walls.

  “Right so I saw them over... there!” Tom pointed with only his hand.

  Our four people on the ground looked at each other. This was less than helpful.

  “Hold on Tom. I’m coming up behind you.” Francis said with a sigh.

  Francis’ light halfling body easily and quickly scaled the thin ladder. Upon reaching Tom’s boots, Francis didn’t even hesitate and continued to clamber over. Fingers clutching at chain links and belts until he surmounted the top and ended up on Tom’s shoulders.

  “See?” Tom was surprisingly calm about being a shelf. “Right there! I see the bones moving in the woods.”

  Francis followed the point of Tom’s finger. Across the open field, into the beginnings of the forest, and then into the darkness between the trees. Squinting his eyes he saw it. A flash of moving yellowed white. It wasn’t snow, it wasn’t an animal, it could only be one of the animated skeletons he had seen so many of a few days ago.

  “Well shit.” Francis rested an arm on the top of Tom’s helmet. “Them’s some skeletons alright.”

  The eye wanders as it does. In this case Francis’ eyes wandered to the side where he noticed something odd.

  “Who lives out there?” Francis pointed at a lone cabin on the edge of the woods.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “That’d be Cutter.” Tom provided. “Does a lot of the woodworking around here.

  “And do you think he should be home right now?”

  “Gosh no! Anyone outside of the walls is in danger!”

  Francis drummed his fingers on the helmet. “Well there’s some smoke coming out of the chimney.”

  “Oh no!”

  Francis called down to the others. “Hey guys, I think we got to rescue someone, like right now.” He slid down the ladder to join the others on the ground. “Looks like we got someone with cabin fever out there.”

  “Right, Cutter.” Tim nodded and gripped their staff tightly. “It’s mostly clear?”

  “Normally I’d say have a look yourself, but I think the ladder wouldn’t survive.” Francis patted Tim on their rocky side. “Yeah it’s clear for now. So lets head out, stay low, and get that Cutter guy back inside.”

  Mark went to the gate. There was a log barring the way. He grunted as lifting the piece of wood out of it’s holders took a bit of effort. He tossed it to the side with a thud and pushed the gate open a tiny fraction of an amount. The outside looked clear from that angle.

  Axe, staff, knife, and fingers at the ready, the four of them slipped out through the gate and into the open field.

  “I’ll wait for your call.” Came the whispered assurance from Tom. “Just holler when you get close.

  Four sets of new footprints were made in the snow as they cross the open field. The thick crunch of boot in snow the loudest sound beyond laboured breaths. Three of them had bent their backs to stay low, Francis didn’t bother.

  A few minutes of careful movement. A few minutes of staring for any movement. A few minutes of tense grips and laboured breathing, and they had reached the cabin walls.

  Looking around they could spot several stumps. Cutter, being a wood worker, had obviously sourced the nearby trees first. Leaving behind work surfaces that displayed several thick cuts in the flat tops. A large number of chopped and quartered logs piled nearby spoke of a cozy and warm fire going on inside.

  Mark took a corner past the singular doorway and motioned for Tim to knock.

  Tim nodded and lightly rapped against the door. Their thick knuckles making a distinct tapping noise on the wood.

  There was the sound of shuffling feet.

  The door creaked open, causing only a small waft of heat to escape. In that crack of doorway stood a large hunched man. He was covered in a thick fur blanket which only allowed a face covered in a thick bushy beard through.

  “Yeh?” The man, presumably Cutter, uttered.

  “Cutter. We got problems.” Tim whispered. “Skeletons are out in the woods. We gotta get back inside the walls.”

  Mark, who had been keeping an eye on the tree line, saw movement. That movement dislodged a chunk of snow to reveal pin pricks of red light in the dark. Skeletons had arrived, and they knew where they were.

  “Shit.” Was all Mark could say. “We got company.”

  Paul and Francis moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Mark. Francis had adjusted and adjusted the grip on his knife. Flipping it between a forward and reverse grip. Paul in his own special way had rolled up the sleeves of his robe. Limbering up his fingers in the process.

  “Get your boots on.” Tim stepped away from the door. “We have to move soon.”

  Time froze

  Three skeletons sprinted out of the dark woods. Their red eyes bright and focused as they locked onto the four of them.

  Francis felt antsy. They were too far away for him to do anything.

  Paul pointed and sighted down the length of his arm. “The one on the right, get hit with [Ray of Frost]!” The red rune rings flowed down his arm and coalesced into a bright blue beam that narrowly missed it’s target. “Damn.”

  Mark rushed forward to get ahead of the group. He came to a stop about halfway, planted his feet, and raised his axe. He was ready for them.

  Tim raised one of their free hands. “[Sacred Flame] burn that one to a crisp!” This caused ethereal flames to ignite themselves on the left skeleton, which instantly turned to a pitch black crisp, lost the light in it’s eyes, and crumbled to the ground.

  The skeletons, now two, completed their run and descended upon Mark. The axe he was holding came down in a rapid arc, smashing one of the skeletons to pieces before it could land a blow. Which didn’t stop the last remaining one as it raked bony fingers along Marks breastplate.

  Francis sprinted forward. His large feet and tiny legs flowing across the snowy ground with blistering speed. Leaping at the last moment, he slammed his knife into the side of the skeletons head, taking it off in it’s entirety. The momentum of his body continued, dragging the now loose collection of bones to the side in a clattering cacophony.

  Time unfroze.

  They were breathing hard. This was just three of them, it was easy.

  “Well huh, maybe we were worried for noth...” Francis let the words die on his lips as he saw deeper into the forest.

  Little red lights. A veritable sea of pairs of little red lights. Each one now aware of their location. As a mass, the lights bobbed and weaved, they were moving.

  “Shit shit shit.” Francis turned and sprinted back towards the cabin. “Time to go!”

  Mark thudded alongside of the halfling. Axe in one hand, sparing a glance over his shoulder at the certain death that was on it’s way.

  Tim pounded on the door of Cutter’s cabin. It opened under the sheer force and mass of those knocks. They saw Cutter had gotten their boots on and was doing up the belt of a thick coat.

  “Run!” They shouted and pointed towards the gate and it’s tall walls.

  Cutter didn’t spare the breath to shout. He was a large guy and running would take all of it.

  So with Cutter in the lead, the four took up the rear and they ran. No longer were they attempting to keep quiet, this was a no holds barred, flat out sprint to safety. Snow flew up behind them as their boots bit into the path they had travelled on the way out.

  Behind them, a veritable sea of bones filtered out of the woods. Their clattering clinking movements and bright red eyes promised violence for anyone who had the audacity to wear flesh. As a mass they pushed through deep snow. The front ones sometimes falling and were trampled underfoot simply to be forgotten as the rest flowed over and above in their pursuit of the four.

  “Open the gate!” Mark bellowed as he ran.

  It didn’t open.

  “Open the GATE!” Even louder this time. His voice ringing out ahead of them.

  Stubbornly, it remained closed.

  Bones clacking ever closer. Teeth clicking as jaws worked and gnashed. Silent screams that only needed tongues and lungs to be made audible.

  Five living breathing people reached the gate. So long as it remained closed, they wouldn’t be for much longer.

  “What the hell Tom!” One last call up.

  “Can’t open the gates, too many skeletons. Can’t let them into the town.” Tom peaked over the lip of the wall. They could see a fearful torment in his eyes. “Sorry.”

  “Shit.” Mark looked at the approaching wave of bones. “Any ideas?”

  Paul had their hands on their knees and was breathing hard. “Throw... Francis...”

  Francis and Mark both looked at the furry elf weirdly.

  “Throw him... up there...” Paul pointed up. “Get the gate open.” He turned to Tim. “use turn undead... when they get close.”

  Any plan, when you don’t know what to do, is a good plan.

  Mark interlaced his fingers and crouched down against the palisade wall. Francis stuck a foot in and counted down. “Three, two, one, go!” Mark heaved, Francis lept, and the halfling flew most of the way up. The hunting knife flashed out and stuck into the wood near the top.

  “Good one!” Francis called down as he scrambled over the top.

  Mark picked up his axe and stood next to Tim and Paul.

  The ocean of animated calcium was almost upon them. Paul patted Tim on their shoulder.

  “[Turn Undead]!”

  Pure white light shone out from underneath Tim’s green robes. It’s perfect clean colour making the snow look dirty by comparison. This light reached out into the space around them and alighted on the encroaching horde. Tim was lit up like a beacon for all to see.

  Almost instantly those skeletons slammed to a halt. The ones in the back slamming into the frozen front wave with an audible xylophone like quality. This wall of bone formed into a hemisphere around the small group. Each end clawing at the ones in front and the wall around them.

  Behind this small pocket of safety, the gate creaked open.

  Cutter slipped inside right away. Paul tugged at Tim’s clothes and guided the dwarf slowly backwards, bringing them inside the walls. Mark carefully edged backwards watching as the bubble of safety collapsed.

  Once inside the walls, the gate was slammed shut by Tom and Francis who immediately braced themselves against it. In the instant that those doors shut, the sound of a thousand fingers scratching came out for everyone to hear.

  Mark found the log, lifted it into place and slotted it down.

  They were safe, for now.