Julian and his friends were scheduled for shopping detail. Being an elf and therefore not requiring the sleep his companions did, Julian had grown bored in the stale, farty air of the Whore's Head Inn, and decided it might be a good idea to get a jump on the day.

Dave had been easy to convince, seeing the wisdom of arriving before the crowds. He had a Wisdom score of 17, after all.

Tim had taken a little more convincing, so Julian appealed to reason. The sooner they finished the day's obligations, the sooner he'd be able to start drinking. That was enough for Tim to scrape himself up off the floor.

Cooper, being neither wise nor reasonable, had required a more direct approach. A Ray of Frost under the loincloth had him wide awake, on his feet, and in a karate stance in an instant.

The effort proved worthwhile, as the marketplace was nearly empty, except for vendors opening up their carts, stalls, booths, and tents to hawk their days' wares. This made it extra startling when Tony the Elf suddenly stepped into their path from behind a vegetable cart.

"Just the fellas I was looking for."

"What did we do?" said Tim, glaring up at Cooper.

Cooper quickly removed his finger from his nostril. "What? I ain't done shit."

"Ha ha!" Tony the Elf said to Tim. "Good one!" After a few seconds of Tim not sharing in his mirth, he continued. "I'm not here to bring trouble." He took a knee to face Tim eye-to-eye. "I've got a lead on something you boys might be interested in."

Tim folded his arms and cocked his head to one side.

"What made you think we'd be in the market?" asked Julian, sharing Tim's skepticism. Tony the Elf wasn't normally one for a chipper good morning, especially to Julian and his friends. Dave said he'd even threatened to stab them in the face once, just for talking.

"Yeah," said Dave through a yawn. "Especially at this time of day."

Tony the Elf stood up. "I didn't. Just a matter of happenstance, that was. I was headed back to the Whore's Head to look for you."

"So what exactly is this great opportunity you've got for us?" asked Tim.

"Frank hooked me up with a lead on a haunted house. Hildegarde Manor, just south of town."

"Uh uh," said Tim flatly. "No thanks. We'll pass."

"Oh come on, Tim," said Cooper. "Please don't tell me you believe in ghosts."

"Of course I don't fucking believe in ghosts," snapped Tim. "I don't believe in half-orcs either, but take a look in a goddamn mirror."

"I'm with Tim," said Dave. "This is the Caverns and Creatures world. If there are ghosts in the Monster Manual, you can bet your beard that they're real."

"Can we fight ghosts?" asked Julian.

"We can't even touch them without magical weapons," said Tim. "But they can do some nasty shit to us. Frank's off his tits if he thinks we're going to go anywhere near a haunted house, not at the levels we're at."

"See now, that's the thing," said Tony the Elf. "I don't think the place is really haunted."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Frank and I got the scoop from Gorgonzola, who was inquiring about another matter."

"Using his Gather Information skill?" asked Julian. He'd seen Gorgonzola use the skill before, and it was remarkable how much information that little gnome had picked up in such a short amount of time.

"Yeah, right," said Tony the Elf. "He was out gathering information, and he heard tell of a man who barely made it out of that house with his life, after having watched all of his traveling companions murder each other."

Tim frowned. "You're not really selling this as well as you might think."

Tony the Elf looked left, then right, before whispering conspiratorially. "But this guy didn't say anything about seeing a ghost. It sounds less like a haunting to me, and more like a curse."

Tim put his palms out to Tony the Elf. "Okay okay. I think I see where we're miscommunicating here. The ultimate thing I want to avoid isn't necessarily ghosts, per se." He stressed the word ghosts with finger quotes. "It's more like… um, how do I put this? Oh yeah, being dead." Again with the finger quotes.

"Are you being sarcastic?"

"No, I'm being condescending."

"Listen," said Tony the Elf. "Just hear me out, will ya?"

"I'm listening," said Julian. Tim gave him a quick glare, but he pretended not to see it.

"Curses can be avoided if you take the right precautions." Tony the Elf looked left and right again before reaching into his shirt's inside pocket. He pulled out a bunch of leather cords, each one adorned with a circular silver charm about the size of a half dollar.

Julian reached for one tentatively. Tony the Elf handed him one of the cords. On the silver charm, Julian recognized the nine-pointed star, the magical symbol for protection.

"What are these?"

"Talismans," said Tony the Elf. "I bought them off the old lady in the mystic tent."

"The blind one?" asked Tim.

"That's her."

"How do you know she's for real?"

"Oh she's for real, all right," said Cooper. "I wagged my dick at her a couple weeks ago. Bitch didn't even flinch."

"That's reprehensible," said Dave. "Mocking blind people? That's a new low, Cooper, even for you."

"Well I didn't fucking know she was blind until then, now did I?"

When Cooper got defensive, he got loud. Passersby were beginning to take notice of their little congregation.

"Let's talk somewhere else," said Tony the Elf. "There's a pub across the street. I'm buying." He gave Tim a take-it-or-leave-it look and started walking.

"What do you think?" asked Tim.

"I don't know," said Julian. "It's kind of early in the morning to be getting hammered, and Frank sent us out to buy supplies. He'll be pissed if we turn up empty handed and shitfaced."

"Again," Dave added.

"Frank greenlit this mission," said Tim. The promise of free booze had obviously opened his mind. "And we can always pin the blame on Tony the Elf."

"I don't think it's wise," said Dave, "to make decisions about taking on potentially life-threatening undertakings while under the influence of alcohol."

"I've got to agree," said Julian. "This whole situation feels wrong." He looked at the talisman in his hand. "Still, I'd better return this before we go."

They crossed the wide, cobblestone street and walked into the pub through the open doorway. Dave's boots echoed noisily on the dark, mahogany floor. This place was a world apart from the Whore's Head Inn. It smelled of pine and cloves, with maybe a hint of grandfatherly tobacco. There wasn't a whiff of urine or vomit in the place. Cooper would no doubt rectify that in the next couple of minutes. Julian laughed to himself. Cooper. Rectify.

Tony the Elf was the lone patron in the establishment, sitting by himself at a large polished table with four glistening mugs of beer and a bottle of stonepiss.

Dave licked his lips. "We could listen to what he has to say."

"It'd be rude not to," said Cooper.

"One drink's not going to hurt," said Tim.

Julian shook his head and stepped back outside. He whistled at the sky. Ravenus descended from about a quarter of a mile away, where there were still a bunch of normal ravens circling.

"Shopping all finished, sir?" said Ravenus as he landed atop Julian's quarterstaff.

Julian rolled his eyes. "We haven't even started yet. What's going on over there?" He nodded up at the black birds circling in the sky. "You making some friends?"

"Nah," said Ravenus. "Conversations with other birds just don't cut it for me no more. Not since I become all smart like. We're all just hanging around watching two cats fight. I reckon we might get lucky. They both appear to be in pretty bad shape."

"Just try to keep out of trouble for a bit," said Julian. "We'll be in here if you need anything."

Ravenus bobbed his head. "Getting an early start then, are you sir?"

"Hey now. None of your beak. Go on and enjoy your cat."

"Very good, sir."

Ravenus flapped away, and Julian stepped back into the pub.

Cooper's glass was already empty.

"Jesus, Cooper," said Julian. "I haven't been outside more than a minute."

"I have a different metabolism than you," said Cooper. He turned around on his stool. "Bartender. One more please."

"Right away, sir," said the proprietor, an older man. Human. Smartly dressed in a crisp linen shirt, clean brown doublet, and a stain-free apron. Pubs tended to be a little classier as they got nearer the market area.

Tim rapped his knuckles on the table as he chugged down the last quarter of his own beer.

"Make it two," said Cooper.

"Why would Frank sign off for you to buy magical talismans for a one-shot gig?" Dave asked Tony the Elf. They were the only two who appeared to remember what they were in there for. Still, Dave threw back a shot of stonepiss, then wiped his mouth on the leopard fur of his forearm.

"Imagine it," said Tony the Elf. "How many lost travelers has this old house lured in over the years. Decades? Centuries maybe? There's bound to be piles of dead bodies in there."

"So far this only sounds appealing for Ravenus," said Julian.

"Now imagine what these people might have had on them when they met their dismal fate. Money? Probably. Weapons? Almost certainly. Who knows? Even if they were all just carrying standard traveling money, that adds up."

Julian sipped his beer and smiled on the inside. Though it was warm, it was a much higher quality brew than what they served at the Whore's Head.

"We're not even necessarily talking about peasants here," said Tim, slamming his mug down a little too hard on the table.

"I'll have to ask you to handle the glassware more delicately, sir," said the owner, replacing Tim and Cooper's empty mugs with fresh beers.

"Sorry," said Tim sheepishly. He waited for the barman to leave before continuing. "Imagine if a group of mid-level adventurers ducked in there, rolled some unlucky saving throws, started going apeshit on each other. Think of what kind of loot they might have left behind." Tim was a walking billboard on the dangers of alcohol.

Several drinks and a large plate of breakfast sausages later, Tony the Elf stood up. "I've got to hit the can. Settle the bill while I'm gone?" He tossed a small leather sack to Tim. Coins clinked together as the bag hit Tim's face and fell into his lap.

Tim shook his head like he was just coming out of a dream. "Yeah, sure thing."

When Tony the Elf disappeared through the front door and the barman had gone into the kitchen, Dave leaned in. "So, what do you think?"

Julian was relieved that someone else was prone to suggest thinking at all. "I don't like it. We get into enough trouble as it is without actively seeking it out."

"Thinking like that gets you nowhere in this game," said Tim. "To get ahead, you've got to jump on opportunities like this when they –" hiccup "present themselves."

"You're drunk," said Julian. "And this isn't a game."

"Technically, it is," said Tim. "It's Caverns and Creatures."

"You know what I mean."

"You're both right," said Dave. "We're in some kind of alternate reality, but it's still the game. And the situation we're in right now feels very game like. Think about it. We're in a tavern, and we've just been presented with a quest of sorts."

"Whoa," said Tim. "You are wise."

"What's even better," Dave continued. "We've got inside information. If Tony the Elf's information all checks out, these talismans might just let us bypass the one trick that house has up its sleeve. Our only challenge might be the logistics of hauling out all of that treasure."

Cooper cracked his knuckles and belched up the Ghost of Sausages Past. "I'm up for that challenge."

"Come on," said Julian. "You call that wise? Haven't you heard If it's too good to be true, it's probably… I forget how it goes, but you know what I'm saying."

"Pfft," said Tim. "We can swap empty proverbs all day. Haven't you heard When opportunity's knockin', don't come a-rockin'?"

Julian narrowed his eyes at Tim. "I can honestly say I've never heard that before in my life."

"Dang! Blast it!" the tavern owner shouted as he stomped out of the kitchen. He was clutching his left wrist with his right hand. Blood seeped through his fingers and dripped on the floor.

"Sir?" said Julian. "Are you okay?"

The barman winced as he poured a trickle of stonepiss over his bleeding arm. "I done sliced myself open with a gosh darn breadknife."

"Damn," said Dave. "That looks pretty bad."

Julian slapped Dave in the back of the head. "You're a cleric, idiot. Go help him!"

"Oh yeah." Dave stumble-waddled to the bar. "Give me your hand."

The barman stretched his injured arm over the bar.

"I heal thee," said Dave, touching his hand.

The barman's eyelids fluttered as Dave's healing magic coursed up through his arm. The wound sealed itself.

"There you go," said Dave, looking rather pleased with himself. "Good as new."

The barman opened and closed his hand, stretching the newly-healed muscles in his forearm. "I can't thank you enough. Praise be to the good gods."

Dave waved his hand dismissively. "Don't even mention it. I'm happy to help. The food was delicious."

"You serve a fine sausage, sir," said Cooper.

The barman grinned. "So says the missus."

"What do we owe you?" asked Tim, holding the money pouch Tony the Elf had given him.

"Put that away!" said the barman. "Your money's no good here!"

"Fuck," said Cooper. "How are we supposed to pay?"

"You see?" said Tim, tucking Tony the Elf's money into his inner vest pocket. "When opportunity's knockin' –"

"Yeah yeah," said Julian. "Don't come a-knockin'. Let's get out of here before he changes his mind."

"And you, sir," the barman said to Dave. He produced two blue glass bottles from under the bar. They were about a liter each. "Please take these."

"What are they?" asked Dave.

"Stonepiss," said the barman. "Special blend. My son made these. He's a court recognized distiller, my boy."

Dave's eyes were fixated on those bottles like they were a pair of glass breasts. "That's really too much. It was just a simple healing spell."

"Not a word of it. That was a nasty cut I gave myself. If not for you, I might not have lived to see my son again, nor serve another drink. I insist."

"You're much too kind, sir." Dave shifted the contents of his bag around to make room for the two bottles. "You can be sure we'll visit here again real soon."

The barman flexed his left arm. He had some muscle on him for an old man. "I'll be looking forward to it."

Dave finished up his goodbyes and the four of them were soon out on the street again.

"What's keeping Tony the Elf?" asked Tim.

Dave frowned. "Maybe he didn't handle that sausage so well."

"Or maybe that's exactly what he's doing," said Cooper.

"What's that?" asked Julian.

"Handling his sausage." Cooper winked. "He's probably thinking about Tim."

They hung out in front of the tavern for another minute or two – just enough time for Julian to call Ravenus back – when Tony the Elf finally sauntered out from around the side of the building, straightening up his pants.

"You fellas ready to roll?"

"What?" said Tim. "You want to go today?"

"Now?" added Cooper.

"That survivor's still out there telling his story. Frank wants us to hit this place before someone else comes up with the same idea that we did."

"You wouldn't rather wait until we're sober?" asked Dave.

"You'll have plenty of time to sober up on the way."

"I don't want to sober up on the way," said Tim. "I only just started drinking."

As Tony the Elf led the way north, Julian noticed Tim sneaking shots from his hip flask every now and again. He might not be stone cold sober when they reached their destination, but hopefully he would be less shitfaced than he was now.

The western bank of the Bluerun River on the north side of Cardinia was like a distorted reflection of the south. Here, too, were large, two story homes built from brick or stone, luxurious by this world's standards, but most of them looked abandoned, in varying stages of ruin. Tree roots had cracked foundations. Toppled statues were thick with moss. Wild vines ran up walls and into cracked windows.

"What happened here?" asked Julian.

"War happened," said Tony the Elf like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Ever hear of a little thing called The Wars of the Fractured Kingdom?"

"I think I remember hearing something about it in passing."

Tony the Elf stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at Julian. His grey eyes bored deep into him. It almost felt invasive.

"What?" Julian finally said.

"Hmph," said Tony the Elf. He turned around and continued walking.

"We almost there?" said Cooper. "I gotta drop the kids off at the pool."

Tony the Elf stopped again. He seldom had patience for Cooper. "I beg your pardon?"

"I gotta take a shit."

"Can't you hold it? We're nearly there."

"Maybe it'd be better for him to do that out here," said Dave. "The house is likely to smell bad enough as it is."

Tony the Elf looked quizzically at Dave. "Why would you say that?"

Dave shrugged. "Because of all the rotting corpses?"

Tony the Elf smiled. "Oh yes, of course. Now that you mention it, I wish I had thought to bring some mint leaves or something."

Cooper stomped off what was left of the old dirt road and disappeared into the tall grass. Tim swigged down some stonepiss, not even bothering to hide it anymore, while he urinated on the side of the road.

At least ten minutes passed. Julian was happy he had gone easy on the breakfast.

"What was in those sausages?" asked Dave.

Tim screwed the cap onto his flask and put it in his vest pocket. "That's a question you almost never want the answer to."

"I guess I'm lucky to have that +2 Save versus Poison."

"You have what?" asked Tony the Elf.

"Because I'm a dwarf."

Tony the Elf looked at him doubtfully. "Oh right."

"I don't like this," said Dave. "Something's wrong."

"You worry every time Cooper goes for a shit?" asked Tim. "You're going to have a heart attack before you're forty."

"Yeah, he shits a lot. But he's usually quick about it. He never takes this long."

"Relax," said Tony the Elf. "You said yourself it's probably just the sausages. You watch. He'll be back here any second now."

"Sorry for the holdup!" When Cooper jogged back into view, something was off about him. He looked cleaner somehow. Slimmer too, maybe.

From the look on Tim's face, he must have shared Julian's assessment. "How big a shit did you take?"

Cooper stopped jogging and frowned. "I, umm… I don't know how to answer that. Considerably?"

"So glad to see you again!" said Tony the Elf. If it was meant to sound sarcastic, he failed his Diplomacy check. "Look sharp, gentlemen. The next house up the road is our target."

"Shouldn't we get our talismans ready?" asked Julian.

"Oh right!" said Tony the Elf. "Good thinking!" He handed out talismans to each member of the party who, in turn, looped the chords over their heads and around their necks.

"What about Ravenus?" asked Julian. "Do you think he needs a talisman?"

Tony the Elf frowned. "I shouldn't think so. He's your familiar, right? Surely, your talisman will provide protection for the both of you."

"You don't sound very sure of yourself, and I don't want to take any chances." Julian whistled for Ravenus.

"Anything amiss, sir?" asked Ravenus, flapping down to perch atop Julian's quarterstaff.

"Why don't you sit this one out. We shouldn't be in there too long. Go see if you can't scrounge up a dead rat or something."

"As you wish, sir," said Ravenus. He pushed off from the quarterstaff and took flight.

Tony the Elf led the way up the footpath. Cooper walked at his side, trailing slightly behind. A few minutes later they stood before an ancient wrought iron gateway thickly overgrown with sickly, brownish-green vines. They wrapped around the bars like old people's fingers. The gate itself had been removed from the hinges, leaving just a curtain of vines for them to pass through. At the top of the gateway, the iron had been bent to form letters. Hildegarde Manor.

"Well," said Cooper. "This is the place, all right." He stepped through the vine curtain. Tony the Elf held the vines aside to allow everyone else to pass through, and he took the rear.

The house was much the same as the others they had passed. Two stories, brick and mortar, crawling with vines. Broken windows seemed to stare at Julian like dead eyes. It was everything a haunted house should be. Julian knew that his imagination was largely to blame, but this place truly gave him the willies.

"I don't like this," said Dave, digging in his bag. He had obviously caught a similar case of the willies. He pulled out one of the expensive bottles of stonepiss, uncorked it, and took a generous swig. A look of calm came over him. "That barman wasn't kidding. This is some good stuff."

Tim held his open flask to Dave. "Fill me up, would you?" Dave poured. Stonepiss spilled onto the ground, because both of their hands were trembling slightly.

"Come on, man," Julian said to Tim. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Liquid courage," said Tim. "I'll need a bit more before stepping into that creepy ass house." He took a small sip from his flask. "Hot damn, that is good!"

"You know," said Julian. "We don't actually have to go through with this. We can turn back right now."

"You guys are letting your imaginations get carried away," said Tony the Elf. "There's absolutely nothing to be afraid of." He grasped the talisman hanging from his neck. "We've got these, remember?"

Julian frowned. "Of course. What could be safer than walking into a cursed and/or haunted house with some trinkets you bought off a blind stranger?"

Tony the Elf grinned. "That's the spirit! Now come on." He and Cooper confidently strolled up to the door. Tony the Elf reached for the handle.

"Stop!" cried Tim, running up behind them.

Tony the Elf jerked his hand away from the door like he'd just noticed it was crawling with angry bees. "What?"

Tim shoved him aside. "What's the point of bringing me along if you're not going to let me use my rogue abilities?"

"What?" Tony the Elf repeated.

"Let me check the door for traps," said Tim. "Fucking noob."

"Noob?"

Tim pulled out his dagger, stood clear of the doorway, and tentatively poked at the handle. Nothing happened. He leaned in closer, running the dagger blade up the narrow gap between door and frame.

Tim stood back and nodded. "It looks clear to me. Cooper, kick it down."

"Are you daft?" said Tony the Elf. "Why wouldn't you just try –"

"Stay back, Tony the Elf," said Tim. "This is how you gain the element of surprise. Kick that bitch down, Cooper."

"Umm… Okay," said Cooper. He paused for a moment, looking doubtfully at the door. Finally, he lifted his right leg. "Ya-ha!"

Ya-ha? Julian mouthed to Dave. Dave shrugged."

Cooper slammed his heel into the door, knocking himself on his ass. The door didn't budge.

"What kind of pussy kick was that?" asked Tim. "I could have hit the door harder with my little dick."

"Don't let me stop you," said Cooper. "That door's solid oak."

"Use your Barbarian Rage," suggested Dave.

Cooper sat on the front porch looking puzzled. "Barbarian…" He placed the tips of his index fingers on his temples.

"Coop?" said Julian. "You okay?"

"Barbarian Rage," Cooper said to himself. "I can use it once per day."

"That's right," said Tim. "So let's get it on. Get angry, my man!"

Cooper removed his fingers from his temples, looked at Tim, and shrugged. "I just remembered. I already used it today."

"What are you talking about?" Tim demanded. It almost sounded accusatory. "We've been with you all morning."

"I used it when I was relieving myself," said Cooper. "I was having a little trouble getting it out, if you take my meaning. I needed a little extra push."

"You did what?"

"Those fucking sausages," said Dave, shaking his head. "Dammit, Cooper! Barbarian Rage isn't supposed to be used as a laxative! I can't believe you'd go and waste your one talent like –"

"This is stupid," said Tony the Elf, pushing his way past Tim. "It's a wonder how you four idiots make it through each day without drowning in your own drool." He pulled the handle. The door opened with ease. "See?" He stepped across the threshold.

Cooper stepped in after him. Tim took a nice, long swig of stonepiss and followed them in.

Dave and Julian stood just outside the open door.

"Are the talismans working?" asked Julian. "How do you feel?"

Tim smiled. "I've got a nice buzz going."

Tony the Elf looked down at him. "Do you feel like you want to stab me?"

"Kinda."

Dave rolled his eyes. "I guess they're working." He stepped into the house.

Fighting every fiber of common sense and self-preservation instinct, Julian stepped across the threshold. He was happy to note that, once inside, he felt no change. No murderous urges or thirsts for blood. The inside of the house, full of dust and cobwebs, was no less creepy than the outside. Dust motes swirled and danced like undead fairies in the few beams of sunlight which managed to penetrate through the cracks in the windows. This wasn't the sort of place Julian would ever want to visit at night, but the fact that he and his friends weren't all hacking away at each other was strangely comforting.

"Where are all the dead bodies?" asked Dave.

The air was thick with mildew and water rot, but Julian wasn't picking up the scent of any decaying bodies. Still, someone had been here. The dusty floor was littered with footprints of varying shapes and sizes.

Tim moved a wooden stool over to a desk next to the wall of what Julian guessed once served as a sort of living room. He climbed onto the stool, then opened the top drawer of the desk.

"Sweet! Candles!" He pulled out two handfuls of long, thin white candles. "Let's light these bitches up." He hopped down from the stool and handed everyone a few candles.

Julian, with his Low Light Vision, was able to see just fine with the meager amount of sunlight flowing in through the windows, but he had no objections to adding some more light, if only just to keep the creepiness at bay.

"I can only find this one candle holder," he said. "What are we supposed to do with the rest of the candles?"

"Think outside the box," said Tim. He pulled a small pouch out of his bag.

"What's that?" asked Julian.

"Caltrops," said Tim. "They have four sharp prongs on them, so be careful not to step on them. They're actually made to slow down pursuers. But if you poke one prong into the bottom of a candle, the other three prongs should keep it upright." He demonstrated, and set the shoddily-mounted candle on the floor. "Voila! Instant candle holder."

"That definitely looks like a fire hazard," said Dave.

"Explain to me why I'd give a fuck," said Tim. "All of you assholes can see in the dark. I can't see shit."

Before long, the whole room was awash in a warm, cozy glow. Candles stood on every available chair, shelf, and tabletop.

Tim climbed back up onto his stool, and from there onto the table. He wiped a layer of dust off a painting hanging on the wall, revealing the face of an elderly bearded man. Julian guessed he was probably the patriarch of the Hildegardes.

"Hey, Cooper," said Tim. "What's this picture of your mom doing here?"

"I'm pretty sure that's a man," said Cooper.

Tim pursed his lips and nodded slowly. "Hey, would you mind grabbing me that book up on the top shelf?" he asked, pointing to a nearby bookcase.

Cooper turned around and looked up at the shelf. "Which one?"

"The Dawn of the Third Age."

When Cooper reached up to grab the book, Tim pulled a length of rope out of his bag, jumped onto his back, and looped the rope around his neck. Cooper dropped to his knees, his eyes wide as he struggled to breathe. Tim pulled the ends of the rope ends tighter.

Julian gripped his quarterstaff with both hands, not quite sure of what he intended to do with it. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Who are you?" Tim shouted into Cooper's ear.

"Oh my god!" cried Dave. "The talismans aren't working! We have to get out of here!" He ran for the door, but it slammed shut against his face. He fell to the floor, covering his face with his hands. "Ow! My fucking nose!"

Tony the Elf drew the twin machetes he carried on his back. "Let him go, Tim!" He took a step toward Tim and Cooper.

"Stop!" said Julian. Tony the Elf stopped, but he didn't look like he'd hold for very long. "Just give me a minute. I've got Diplomacy. Tim, what's going on, man? Why are you strangling Cooper?"

"This isn't Cooper!" said Tim.

"He's… crazy…" Cooper gasped.

"Come on, Tim," pleaded Julian. "You've had a lot to drink today."

"This is the place, all right," said Tim. Cooper's face was turning from grey to blue.

"What?"

"That's what he said when he read the sign outside," said Tim. "He read the fucking sign!"

Illiteracy was a barbarian class feature, but Julian hardly thought it was evidence enough to murder a guy. "He might have been just talking out of his ass."

"He read the spine of that book," said Tim, jerking his head up toward the top shelf of the bookcase. "He didn't have the strength to kick open a simple wooden door."

"Can't… breathe…" said Cooper.

"So he made a low roll," said Julian.

"He didn't get a 'your mother' joke!"

"I'll admit, that is compelling evidence. But to be fair, it was a piss poor effort at a joke. Just let him go. We'll talk this through."

Cooper's face was now a deep purple.

"Look at this big fucker," said Tim. "I'm what, like thirty five pounds soaking wet? He should be able to shake me off whenever he wants. I'm telling you man, this isn't –"

"I'M REALLY ANGRY!" It was Cooper's voice, but it wasn't coming from the half-orc Tim was strangling. It sounded like it was coming from outside.

Dave sat up. "What the –"

The door smashed in, flying off the hinges and into Dave's face.

Cooper stood in the open doorway, completely naked and bulging with muscles. Broken lengths of rope hung from his wrists and ankles. His giant, scabby half-orc dick stood erect like a +5 Staff of Leprosy. "WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY CLOTHES?" He pointed at the Cooper that Tim was still strangling. "YOU!"

"Shit," gasped Tim's Cooper. He shrank so quickly that he slipped right through Tim's rope.

Tim landed on his feet, length of rope still in hand, seething at a mirror image of himself. Only the mirror image was naked and standing on top of Cooper's loincloth.

"What the fuck is going on here?" asked Cooper. Confusion had overtaken his rage, and he was back to his normal, filthy, naked self.

"Doppelganger," said Tim.

Naked Tim kicked real Tim in the nuts. Tim crumpled to the floor like a poorly executed piece of origami, and Naked Tim bolted out of the room.

Tim groaned in a puddle of his own urine. "Don't just stand there. Go after him." He opened his eyes and found himself staring at Cooper's limp dick, hanging like the trunk of a diseased elephant. "Jesus, dude. Put your loincloth on."

"I heal me," said Dave, having shoved the door off of himself. His beard was slick with nose blood, but he looked like he'd survive. He was sitting in a puddle bigger than Tim's.

"Check it out," said Cooper. "Dave pissed himself too."

"What?" said Dave. "I didn't –" He looked down. "Oh no!"

"Dude, take it easy. I do it like five times a day."

Dave rummaged through his bag. "Oh no! Oh no! Oh no!" He pulled out a fragment of broken glass. "Goddammit, Cooper! You broke my booze."

"Oh shit. Sorry about that."

Dave got to his feet. "Let's go get that little bastard."

"Wait!" said Tony the Elf. "We can't just go charging in without a plan. What if there are more of them?"

"What if, indeed?" Julian whispered to himself. Tony the Elf should have been able to hear him. Being an elf, Julian knew what Tony's ears were capable of.

"Now Cooper," said Tony the Elf. "You're the strongest, but you're very noisy…"

"Hey Tony," whispered Julian. "There's a spider on your shoulder."

"Julian," said Tony the Elf. "You and I are pretty good at stealth, but you've got the added benefit of –"

"Magic Missile!"

"Well yes, among other spells." With his eyes so focused on the hallway his partner had gone down, this Tony the Elf imposter didn't even see the glowing bolt of energy headed across the room toward him. "I was thinking just magic in gen—Aaaauuuugggghhh!" The scream sounded less like an elf and more like a giant robotic insect.

Tony the Elf instantly morphed into what Julian assumed must be the creature's true form, because it sure as shit wasn't any of theirs. It looked more like a Roswell alien. Tall, bald, grey, and gangly, with huge, shiny black eyes. Tony the Elf's clothes still hung awkwardly on it. The machetes it carried were still very real.

"Very clever, elf," said the creature, though it didn't have a mouth that Julian could see. Its voice didn't sound exactly like Darth Vader's, but more like James Earl Jones sucking down a helium balloon and talking through an electric fan. "You've discovered us for what we are. I suggest you leave this place at once, or you shall never leave at all." It took off in the direction its partner had gone in.

Julian sighed with relief. "They're letting us go."

"Good," said Dave. "Let's get the hell out of here."

"Fuck that," said Tim. He took a swig of stonepiss from his flask. "They just want to get rid of us because they know they're outnumbered. I came here to loot some treasure and see some dead bodies. I'll be damned if I'm not going to do one of the two." He grabbed a candle off the floor and stumbled off after the doppelgangers.

"Come on, Tim!" Julian called after him. "Let it go!"

Tim belched loudly from down the hall. It was about as reasonable a response as Julian had expected.

"We can't let him go up there alone," said Cooper. He followed Tim.

"Shit," said Julian. He followed Cooper, and Dave waddled along behind him.

The hallway led to a stairwell. Cooper convinced Tim to let him take the lead, since he had the most Hit Points. The stairs were wet and rotten. They felt like they could give way with each step. The mildew smell on the second floor was nigh unbearable. There were two closed doors at the top of the stairs. One of them had some frantic shuffling noises going on behind it.

Tim gestured to use the handle. Cooper nodded reluctantly. Tim held up his fingers. One. Two. Three.

Cooper opened the door and the four of them burst in. A false Julian stood next to a closet on the other side of the room, frantically trying to put on his robe. It was a lost cause. He'd be dead before he could hope to put on his serape.

"Damn!" said False Julian.

"Ah!" said Tim. Julian turned around. Two Tims, identically dressed, locked elbows and danced around in a circle. "But how will you know who is the real Tim?"

One of the Tims stopped the dance abruptly. "I pissed myself when you kicked me in the nuts."

Sure enough, the true Tim was identifiable by his wet pants.

False Tim closed his eyes tight and balled his fists. He grunted until a small trickle of urine ran down his pant leg. It wasn't nearly enough to be convincing.

"This is just embarrassing," said Cooper.

"Enough of this foolishness!" boomed a voice from the other side of the room. A white, translucent image of the man from the painting downstairs appeared in a wall mirror. "You have failed me!"

Both doppelgangers dropped to their knees and bowed on the floor.

"We're sorry!" wailed False Julian. It grated at Julian's ears, like listening to a recording of his own voice.

"Do I really sound like that?"

Dave shrugged and nodded.

"Please forgive us!" said False Tim. The pee stains on his pants grew more convincing.

"Okay now," said the ghostly image in the mirror. "That's enough of that. Stand up and take your true forms."

The doppelgangers got to their feet. The one dressed like Julian looked as normal as an alien was likely to, but the one dressed like Tim looked ridiculous. Gangly as he was, he stretched his Tim costume to the limit. What were full-length pants now came up past the knees, soaking wet and squeezing his thighs. The tiny shirt and vest stretched around its ribcage, revealing his entire abdomen. Cooper started to giggle.

"SILENCE!" boomed the apparition in the mirror.

Thankfully, Cooper got his laughter under control.

"Now," said the ghost. "Who can tell me where you went wrong?"

The doppelganger in Tim's clothes hung his head. "I didn't stick to the plan. I saw an opportunity to take the half-orc out early, and I took it."

"Wrong!" said the ghost. "No matter how meticulously you think you've planned something, it will never play out exactly how you think. Improvisation and adaptability are vital. You showed initiative in taking out their strongest fighter early on."

"We didn't stake them out long enough?" said the doppelganger in Julian's clothes."

"Wrong again! Three weeks is more than enough time to learn to mimic their speech patterns and mannerisms. You're bloody doppelgangers, by the gods!"

Julian cleared his throat. "They shouldn't have left Cooper alive."

"Precisely," said the ghost.

"Dude!" said Cooper. "Whose side are you on?"

"I couldn't kill him," said the doppelganger. "I needed him alive so I could continue to read his mind."

"Then three weeks was not enough?"

"These people speak in strange ways. They speak of Hit Points and Saving Throws. It's some kind of code I have yet to crack. The half-orc uses over twenty different euphemisms to talk about his penis."

"Then just don't talk about your penis."

"That would compromise my cover severely. It's mostly all he talks about. Anyway, I tied him up really well. He shouldn't have been able to break out of those ropes."

The ghost raised its wispy, ethereal eyebrows at Cooper. "And yet here he stands." As he appeared to be waiting for some sort of explanation, everyone else in the room looked to Cooper as well.

Cooper mumbled something under his breath that Julian was quite pleased to hear, but was certain no one else in the room would be able to understand.

"I'm sorry, Cooper," said Julian. "Could you say that a little louder?"

Cooper growled in annoyance. "Ravenus clawed through the ropes."

"I beg your pardon?" said the ghost. "What's a ravenus?"

The doppelganger in Julian's clothes slapped himself on the forehead. "The elf's familiar!"

The ghost frowned. "This is most unsatisfactory. If you can't successfully infiltrate this band of drunken delinquents, how do you expect to avenge my death? I should destroy you both right now."

The doppelgangers dropped to the floor, bowing and groveling. The one in Tim's clothes pushed the limits of his pants. They ripped apart down the ass crack.

Both Cooper and Tim began giggling.

"Please, Lord Hildegarde! Don't kill us!"

"We want to have a family!"

"A FAMILY!" shouted the angry ghost. The house started rumbling as white fire burst out of the mirror. Cooper and Tim stopped giggling, in spite of the green shit splattering out of the newly-ripped pants. "Do you think I never wanted a family?"

Julian was terrified, but knew he stood a better chance of easing the tension in the room than anyone. Diplomacy or death. He gulped.

"Excuse me, my lord."

The white fire in the mirror intensified briefly as the ghost glared at Julian with wide, pupil-less eyes.

Julian stood his ground, unsure as to whether it was the house that was shaking more violently, or just his legs. He did his best to maintain the appearance of calm, innocent curiosity, pretending his asshole wasn't clenched tight enough to cut a steel rod in half.

The flames settled down and the house downshifted from shake to gentle rumble. "Yes? What is it?"

"I – I –" Come on, Julian. Keep your cool. "I couldn't help noticing you bear a striking resemblance to the handsome gentleman in the portrait downstairs." Too much? Does he think I'm coming on to him?

"You mean the one that resembles the half-orc's mother?"

Tim whimpered. "Sorry about that. It was just –"

"Aye, that was me," said the old ghost wistfully. The house stopped shaking altogether. "That painting was commissioned just before the Great War. I believe you young fellows have a fancier name for it now. With the northern hordes advancing, and the city walls too far from completion, the king decided to abandon this region. Cut his losses, if you will."

"Is that right?" said Julian, forcing himself to maintain eye contact with the ghost in the mirror. In his periphery, he noticed Tim sneaking a peek into the closet the two doppelgangers had been using.

"Aye, that's right! Now, that decision made us a prime target for thieves and looters. One such opportunist was named Zachary Figg. He broke into my house in the middle of the night and murdered me in my sleep."

"You don't say!" Julian made a concerted effort to pretend to be interested in this old man's life story. The fact that this lonely ghost was so starved for conversation was likely the reason they were all still alive.

"Robbed me blind, he did. And to make matters worse, this Figg went on to get caught up in the war. He rose through the ranks, and was eventually granted a lordship for valor. Valor! Can you believe such a thing?"

"How did you come to find out about all of this, what with being dead and all?"

"I still get my fair share of looters and squatters, much like yourselves and these two." He nodded down to the two trembling doppelgangers still prostrated on the floor. "I get what news I can out of them before I decide whether to use them or kill them."

"Or send them on their way?" Julian added hopefully.

The old ghost raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Not a chance."

The bedroom door slammed shut. A deadbolt slid into place.

Julian resisted his urge to start crying and groveling. There was still Diplomacy to be done. He might still be able to be reasoned with.

"You were murdered quite some time ago, weren't you?"

"Aye," said the ghost. "It's been nearly four hundred years, by my reckoning."

"Surely this Zachary Figg is long dead by now."

"Aye?" said the ghost, as if urging Julian to get to the point.

"How can you take vengeance on someone who's already dead?"

"He ended my line. I seek to end his."

Simple as that, eh? "You mean you want to kill his descendants?"

"My spirit will not rest until every last Figg – man, woman, and child – is slaughtered like the sons and daughters of the cowardly butcher they are."

"Dude," said Cooper. "That's kind of fucked up."

Julian glared at Cooper, but shared the sentiment. This old ghost's sanity was as dead as his body. There would be no reasoning with him. It was time to start working on a Plan B. In the meantime, he needed to keep talking.

"So that's what the doppelgangers are for? To infiltrate House Figg?"

"Aye," said the ghost. "But as you can see, they'll require a lot more training."

The doppelganger dressed in Julian's clothes raised his head. "So you don't aim to kill us, then?"

"No, of course I'm not going to kill you. Worthless as you are, you have skills uniquely suited to my needs. Who knows when I'll get another group of doppelgangers to sneak in here?"

Both doppelgangers stood up. "Oh thank you, sir. Thank you."

"Yes, yes," said the ghost. "Enough of that. But you need to learn ..."

Julian retreated to where Cooper and Dave were standing while the ghost conversed with his two minions. Tim was placing something into his vest pocket with a very satisfied grin on his face. Julian gestured for him to come join the rest of them.

Julian had an idea brewing. It wasn't a good one, but it was better than trying to have Cooper bust the door down. They'd all be ghosted to death before he made it to the door. Julian's plan involved confusion. It involved surprise. And like any of his other poorly thought out plans, it involved horses.

"Stay close together," Julian whispered when Tim joined the group. Taking the lead, Julian took a small step toward the center of the room.

"Where are we going?" asked Dave. "I thought you were trying to get us out of here. The door's over there."

"We're not going through the door," said Julian, taking another step. "Just stay close."

"… not enough to merely memorize patterns of speech and peculiar mannerisms," the ghost continued lecturing the doppelgangers. "You must become your characters, know their desires, their motivations, their fears. Only then will you be able to exploit this information to convince them to kill one another."

"Horse," said Julian once they had reached the center of the room. A spotted, brown draft horse appeared next to him.

Dave buried his face in his hands. "I should've known. This is so fucking stupid."

The horse whinnied and brayed at the sight of the ghost, but Julian had been expecting that. He stroked the horse's white mane. "Be calm, friend."

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded the ghost. "This is my bed chamber, not a stable!"

"Horse!" Julian said a second time, with an added bit of false confidence. A slightly smaller black horse appeared, and promptly started losing its shit.

"Get rid of these creatures at once!" roared the ghost. His face contorted with rage, and white flames engulfed the frame of the mirror.

"Um, Julian," said Cooper. "If you're trying to give this old dude a stroke, I've got some bad news for you."

The house shook violently. Julian had to hold on to Dave just to stay on his feet. The two doppelgangers stumbled toward the closet. The posts of the old, mildewed bed came loose and crashed onto the floor. The mirror exploded into a billion shards.

Julian closed his eyes to protect them from the glass.

"Shit!" cried Tim. "He's here!"

Julian opened his eyes. Hovering before, and slightly above them, the ghost pointed a white, translucent finger down at Julian. "You dare defy me? In my own home!"

"Don't let him touch you!" shouted Tim as the ghost floated toward them, never taking his eyes off Julian.

Dave grabbed Julian by the serape. "If there's a Phase 2 to this plan, now is the time!"

"HORSE!" Julian shouted a third time.

"Jesus Christ, dude!" shouted Dave. "You can't solve all of your problems with goddamn hors—"

A grey mare appeared right in front of them, facing away from the ghost. Julian patted it on its long face. "I'm really sorry, buddy."

The horse let out an ungodly howling noise that no horse had any business making when the spectral finger penetrated its flesh. It fell to the floor, finally prompting the collapse Julian had been hopefully anticipating.

What Julian had not been anticipating, as the second floor smashed into the first, was for the entire place to be engulfed in flames. The combination of Tim's homemade candle holders, Dave's broken booze, and Mr. Hildegarde's rage-quakes had set the old house ablaze.

Julian immediately started hacking as his lungs filled with smoke and dust. He shut his eyes to keep out the flying specks of ash. A cacophony of sound whirled around him as he tried to hold on to consciousness. The roar of flame. The cries of horses. Dave shouting.

"Water!"

A second later, Julian felt his body be picked up roughly and thrown through the air into a softer light and a cooler breeze. He landed on soft, cool grass. He forced his eyes open. He was outside. He was alive. He was – "Shit!"

Tim flew out of the open doorway and smashed into Julian like they were long-parted lovers.

"Move your fat fucking ass!" Cooper shouted from inside the burning house.

"I'm going as fast as I can!" said Dave, waddling out of the house. His beard was black with soot.

Cooper ran out behind him. Once they were safely in the grass, he tackled Dave. With Dave pinned on his back underneath him, Cooper grabbed him by the shoulders and repeatedly smashed his back into the ground.

"What… the… fuck… are… you… doing?" asked Dave as the back of his head kept slamming into the ground.

Cooper stood up. "Sorry, dude. Your bag was still on fire." It made sense. It must have still been soaked through with top shelf stonepiss.

Julian wiped the tears out of his eyes. "What do you suppose happens to a ghost when you destroy the place it haunts?"

"No idea," said Tim, taking a swig from his flask.

"Let's not stick around and find out," said Dave, waddling quickly toward the front gate of Hildegarde Manor.

The rest of the group followed him. From within the second floor of the house, Julian heard the tortured screams of a man who had just lost everything he'd known for the past four hundred years, as well as the tortured screams of two doppelgangers who were most likely on fire. He quickened his pace.

"And by the way," Dave said to Tim. "That's my stonepiss you're drinking."

Tim grinned. "Don't worry, Dave. There's plenty more where that came from."

"What do you mean?"

Tim pulled a green silk pouch out from his vest pocket and shook it. It sounded heavy with coins. "I found this in the bedroom closet. Second time today I've robbed those doppelfucks. I say we hit up that fancy tavern on the way back to the Whore's Head Inn. Have ourselves some classy drinks, in loving memory of our dearly departing friends."

Julian wasn't sure if he liked the idea of celebrating the deaths of two people who were currently burning to death, but he was more than ready for a drink.

"How much is in there?" asked Cooper.

"Dunno," said Tim. "I haven't had time to count it. But it might even be enough for us to deck ourselves out with some shiny new weapons."

"Or we could use it responsibly," said Dave. "Put it toward magical research? Try to figure out a way back home?"

"We can talk about it," said Tim. "Let's just get to that tavern, settle into a round of drinks, and see how much gold we're talking about first, huh?"

"Agreed," everyone said simultaneously.

Julian shouted skyward, "Ravenus!"


As they approached Cardinia's city walls, the sinking sun underlit orange clouds against a lavender sky. With just a little bit of searching, they were able to locate the tavern they had drunk at that morning. It was much busier now, with only a couple empty tables left. Many of the patrons were uniformed city watchmen, and there were even a few Kingsguard.

Dave led the way inside, strutting up to the bar like he was a soldier returning home after personally punching Hitler in the dick. "Why hello there, good sir. We have returned!"

The barman turned around, gawking down at Dave with an expression of shock and bemusement. He rang a loud bell which hung above the bar. "It's them!" he said once he had the establishment's undivided attention. "These are the folks I was telling you all about!"

Several city watchmen stood up from their tables, forming a perimeter around the group. Two Kingsguard stood at attention in the doorway, covering their only hope at an exit. Something was definitely not right.

Dave waved a hand dismissively. "Oh please. You're really making too big a deal out of this."

"Too big a deal?" shouted the barman. "One of your lot clubbed me over the head, tied me up, stole my clothes, and then bled all over my bar! When I come to, I find two bottles of my finest liquor has been stolen, not to mention you didn't pay your tab! Now which part of that do you find I'm making too big a deal of?"

Dave looked like he'd just been stabbed in the soul. He reached his left arm back. "Tim! Money!"

"How much do you –"

"NOW!"

Tim grudgingly handed over the whole bag of coins.

Dave walked up to the bar, carefully placing the bag between himself and the barman. "Are you absolutely certain we're the men you're looking for?"

The barman opened the bag. Looking inside, his eyes went as wide as golf balls. "Sweet succubus!"

"Would you like us to escort you to the courthouse now," said one of the city watchmen, "so that you can press formal charges? Or shall we just throw them in a holding cell until you're ready."

"I'm terribly sorry, gentlemen," said the barman. "'Twas a false alarm."

"Are you quite sure, sir? They match your descriptions perfectly, right down to the curious band of leopard fur growing on the dwarf's forearm."

"I swear by the gods I've never seen these gentlemen before. Sorry for your troubles." He tossed the city watchman a coin from the bag. At first glance, it appeared silver, but shinier.

The watchman held the coin up to the light, then stared at the barman. "That's right generous of you, sir. Thank you very much!"

When all of the guards and soldiers took their seats, the barman addressed Dave. "I knew you was good lads! Now what'll you have to drink?"

Dave hung his head. "Three beers and a bottle of your cheapest stonepiss."