Tim awoke to the sound of a loud, hacking cough. He was wet and cold and uncomfortable. He opened his eyes and found that his vision was no longer made up of vivid oranges and blues. In fact, he may have lost all sense of color completely. All he could see was grey. The sky. It was raining.

The cough again.

Tim turned his head, and his face came in contact with Cooper's slimy wet skin. Ew. He turned his head the other way, and his nose rubbed against rough wood. The sound of wooden wheels rolling through mud registered in his mind. They were in the back of a cart. He sat up.

A muddy trail flowed beneath them like a river. After a second's consideration, Tim reasoned that they, rather than the trail, were the ones moving.

Cough. Cough.

It was Dave. He was lying on Cooper's arm, hacking like a two-pack-a-day smoker and reaching down for a nonexistent blanket.

Tim stretched his back and neck to look behind him and saw that Julian was riding the horse that was pulling the cart. At least it looked like Julian from behind. The brim of his sombrero sagged down with water, obscuring his head. Tim had no reason to believe it wasn't Julian, but could think of no reason for them all to be on a cart headed for who-knew-where at the ass crack of dawn in the rain.

"Dave!" Tim whispered.

"I'm ready when you are, baby," said Dave. He gave up on the blanket and placed a hand over Cooper's nipple.

When Tim got over his initial fit of gagging, he retrieved his dagger from the sheath beneath his vest, held it by the blade, and reached over to clonk Dave on the helmet with the pommel.

"What!" said Dave. "Okay, I'm up. I'm just… give me a sec, okay."

"Oh good," said Julian. "You guys are awake? Hold on. I've only got maybe thirty minutes left on this Mount spell. I'm going to pick up the pace a bit."

"Jesus!" cried Dave, coming to terms that he'd been caressing Cooper's man-tit in his sleep. He sprang to his feet like reverse footage of a marionette being dropped. The cart jolted forward, and Dave lost his balance. He fell right off the back, splashing into the mud.

"Julian!" shouted Tim. "Stop the cart! We lost Dave!"

"Dammit!" said Julian. "Whoa!" The cart stopped moving and Julian turned around. "I told you guys to hang on."

Cooper sat up. "What's going on? Why is my nipple hard?" His eyes went wide. "Shit! Mudman!" He leapt off the back of the cart and tackled Dave, who was covered in mud and stumbling toward them.

"Get off me!" said Dave, struggling under Cooper's weight.

"Knock it off, Cooper," said Tim. "That's Dave, and you know it."

Cooper stood up. "It could've been a mudman."

"That's not even a thing."

"I hope you guys are happy," said Julian, his boots squishing in the mud as he joined the others at the rear of the cart. "Our first horse just timed out."

Dave sat up in his muddy puddle. "Where are we? What are we even doing out here?" He glared up at Julian. "We're on a quest, aren't we? I told you this would happen! I said let's go back to the Whore's Head, but nobody listened to me. You and your stupid bleeding heart had to –"

"It's not my heart that's bleeding, Vanilla Ice," said Julian. "It's my arm." He pulled his left arm out from beneath his serape. He had a purple bruise, about the size of a baseball, on the underside of his forearm. In the middle of it was a football-shaped pattern of puncture wounds. He'd been bitten.

"Ouch," said Tim. "That looks bad." Fractured memories of the previous night flashed in his head.

"Ya think?"

"That Colin guy. Did he turn into a wolf at some point? Or did I dream that?"

"He's a werewolf," said Julian. "And if we don't bring him some golden figurine from some stupid ancient shrine before the next full moon, I'm going to be a werewolf too."

"Sweet!" said Cooper.

"It's not sweet," said Julian. "I don't want to be a fucking werewolf!"

"Why not? Think about it." Cooper counted off the justifications for his position on his fingers. "You'd have a super sense of smell. Girls would line up for miles to ride your wolf dick. Ummm… you'd be awesome at basketball."

"Cooper," said Tim. "Could you please shut the fuck up for a minute."

"Yeah, all right."

Tim wiped the rain off of his face and looked up at Julian. "Don't listen to Cooper. You most certainly do not want to be a werewolf. You'll have to make a whole bunch of Saving Throws every time there's a full moon, or you'll lose control of yourself and go on a murderous rampage. That's almost certainly grounds for Frank kicking us out of the Whore's Head."

"You guys," said Dave, still sitting in the mud. "If there's a remedy available, why don't we just go back into town and buy it?"

Tim and Cooper looked at Julian.

"You honestly think that wouldn't occur to me?" asked Julian. "Colin said the only cure was to drink a vial of blood from the same creature who bit me. I guess it works like a vaccine or something."

"Something's not right," said Dave. "I don't remember anything about that from the Monster Manual."

"What do you remember?"

"Not much," Dave admitted. "Lycanthropy was complicated. You had to keep track of moon cycles, Saving Throws, Willpower checks, and a whole bunch of other shit, so we never really used them much in our games."

"Come on," said Julian. "You guys have been playing this game for years. One of you must remember something about werewolves."

Tim thought hard, grasping for any recollection. "I remember they have Damage Resistance to anything but silver or magical weapons."

"Okay great! Now how about something useful?"

Tim, Dave, and Cooper exchanged shameful glances before turning back to Julian.

"Seriously? Nothing?"

"Dave's right," said Cooper. "The lycanthropy rules are too complicated. Who wants to keep track of all that shit? We just wanted to drink beer and roll dice."

Julian shook his head. "You must be the worst group of gamers in the history of Caverns and Creatures."

Tim squished some mud between his toes. "How much time do we have? When's the next full moon?"

"What do I look like?" Julian snapped. "A fucking astrologer?"

"I'm just trying to help."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just a little freaked out by all this. A dude bit me, and I've got his infected spit flowing around in my blood."

"Yeah, that's fucked up," said Cooper.

Julian looked skyward. "I couldn't see the moon because of the clouds. I could have anywhere from a day to the better part of a month."

Tim nodded. "Best not take any chances."

"Right. So everyone hop back on the cart, and I'll summon another horse."

Dave stood up. "When did we get a cart?"

"I think we stole it," said Julian. "It was parked on the street outside the tavern when we got thrown out. Colin helped me load you guys onto it and told me to take it. I wasn't exactly in a position to argue."

The rain continued to fall as Julian used up the rest of his Mount spells. The trail led into dense jungle that no party of low level adventurers had any business going into. The trees themselves looked like they might reach out and grab Tim if he let his guard down for a second. The roots slowed the cart to almost walking speed. The one nice thing about the rain was that he didn't have to step off the trail in order to pee. His clothes were already soaking wet, and he could piss himself without anyone knowing. Then again, judging by the hours they'd spent on the trail already with no one calling for a pee break, his friends had likely come to the same conclusion.

When the last magical horse disappeared, they had to abandon the cart and continue on foot. The jungle was alive with strange noises. Creatures snarled, slithered, and hissed from just beyond where Tim could see. His eyes darted left and right as he pointed his trembling crossbow toward every sound he heard.

"Great news, gents!"

Thwang.

"FUCK!"

"Shit," said Tim. "Sorry, man. I didn't –"

"Put that thing away!" said Cooper, plucking the bolt out of his ass. He flung it into the dark jungle.

"You found something?" Julian asked Ravenus, who had been the one who'd scared the shit out of Tim.

Ravenus perched atop Julian's quarterstaff. "A tree decorated with skulls."

"Under what set of circumstances would that ever be considered great news?" asked Dave.

"It's the last of the landmarks Colin told me about," said Julian. "It means we're almost there. Good work, Ravenus. Stay close, okay?"

After another ten minutes of trudging through the mud, they saw it. Ravenus's description had not adequately prepared Tim for the horror standing before them. This wasn't just some lazy goth kid's Christmas tree. It was a living nightmare.

The trunk was thick and black. Low-hanging branches reached out like tentacles, the ends of which sprouted smaller tentacle fingers tipped with dark purple heart-shaped leaves. Blue-green vines covered the trunk like varicose veins, wrapping around branches, worming through the eyes, noses, and mouths of the skulls.

And there were so many skulls. Different shapes and sizes. Some were human sized. Some were smaller or bigger, ranging from halfling to half-orc. A curious number of them had no eye sockets. Just flat bone where eyes should be.

As disturbing as that was, the thing that frightened Tim most was a relatively fresh dwarven head. It hung upside down by its long, brown beard, staring at Tim with its cloudy hazel eyes.

"This is amazing!" said Julian. "I wish I could take these back home to show my anthropology professor."

"Yeah," said Tim. "Me, too. Like, right now." He felt Julian wasn't appreciating the message implied by a tree full of skulls. If his anthropology professor was here, he might suggest it was a warning that they should all get the fuck away from this place as quickly as possible.

"I've found it, sir," said Ravenus, settling on the branch under the dwarf head. "There's a clearing to the southeast with a man-made structure at the center." He pecked out one of the hazel eyes.

"Jesus!" said Dave.

Julian looked away. "Good work, Ravenus."

Julian led them off the trail, into the thick undergrowth of the jungle. Not a single plant let them pass by without either taking something (blood, skin, bits of fabric from their clothes) or giving something (powder, slime, barbed seeds). They swam through a sea of vegetation, easy prey for anyone, or anything, that might call this place home.

Tim didn't know if they'd traveled mere yards or full miles when they finally broke free of the jungle's grasp. The sky, still cloudy as it was, was a welcome sight. It was brighter than Tim expected. How long had they been traveling? How long had it been since he'd slept, the time spent passed out drunk notwithstanding?

"That's it?" said Cooper.

The clearing was perfectly circular, probably the same area as a football field. The soil was as dark and rich as that of the surrounding jungle, but not a single plant grew within it. At the center of the clearing stood a modest stone structure about the size of a shipping container. It was mostly unadorned, except for a symbol above the entrance, which looked like an empty Venn diagram. The only other thing in the clearing was a large log, about two feet thick and twelve feet long, lying on the ground next to it.

"It's not much of a temple," said Julian.

Tim scanned the clearing and put his hand on the grip of his crossbow. "At least it should be easy enough to search."

"I don't think so," said Dave. "That symbol above the doorway. Those are the double rings of Yulu Hari, the goddess of Life and Death. Any temple to her would be round. My guess is this is one of several entrances. The temple itself is underground."

"Shit," said Cooper, Julian, and Tim.

"Get down!" Julian whispered.

The four of them crouched at the edge of the jungle as a pale, muscular, almost naked man emerged from the structure. He wore a loincloth nearly as ratty as Cooper's. His scraggly grey hair hung over his face. He was carrying a wooden pail.

"Do you think he saw us?" whispered Dave.

"I don't think he saw shit," said Cooper. "Look at him."

A small gust of wind blew the hair out of the man's face for a second, revealing his lack of eyes.

"I know these guys!" Julian whispered excitedly. "We saw some of their skulls in the tree."

"That's really fucking interesting," said Tim. "Now keep your voice down."

The eyeless creature sniffed the air, turning his head left and right. Could he smell intruders? Would he soon have four new decorations for his tree? Tim held his breath. The creature walked vaguely, but not directly, toward them, stopping once again to sniff the air when he was about a quarter of the way between the temple entrance and the edge of the jungle. He dumped the contents of his bucket, a lumpy brown liquid, on the ground.

Tim thought he heard faint scratching and clawing sounds, but couldn't see anything to account for them.

The creature lifted the front of his loincloth and started to piss. The sound of his urine hitting the ground seemed off by a fraction of a second. Were Tim's ears playing tricks on him? Then there was a hiss. Tim was sure he heard that, but couldn't account for the source. The only candidate was the creepy blind guy taking a leak, and he looked like he was really enjoying it because he was laughing. His laughter was deep and throaty. Whatever had hissed, it certainly wasn't him. Having finished his business, he picked up his pail and went back inside.

Tim exhaled. "Hey Dave. This goddess, Yolo Honey."

"Yulu Hari," said Dave.

"Whatever. Is she a good goddess or an evil goddess."

"She's neutral."

"That figures." Tim stood up and looked into the clearing. "I suppose hoping she was good was a longshot. Not that it matters much. These guys aren't going to – Wait a second."

"What's wrong?" asked Julian.

"Where's that dude's piss puddle? And the shit he dumped on the ground?" The clearing was flat and featureless.

Julian shrugged. "Is that really the most interesting thing you feel you've seen today?"

"I just think it's strange that it's not there. Don't you?"

"I don't know," said Julian. "Maybe he kicked some dirt over it."

Cooper rubbed his belly. "I've got a good one brewing if you want to watch."

"Jesus, Cooper!" said Tim. "Why would you even –" His whole body shuddered. "I really didn't need that image in my head."

"Listen guys," said Julian. "We don't know how much daylight we've got left, or when the next full moon is. So maybe we should stop screwing around."

"We need a plan," said Tim. "We can't just walk in there blindly."

Julian grinned and nudged Cooper with his elbow. "I think we all just witnessed evidence to the contrary."

Everyone frowned at Julian.

"'Cause he's got no eyes," Julian explained. "He walked in there blindly."

"Meh," said Cooper. "It's funnier than a Dave joke."

"Hey!" said Dave.

Tim put his hands on his hips and glared at Julian. "Wasn't someone just saying something about how we should stop screwing around?"

"Sorry."

"Let's get to the entrance first and figure out how to proceed from there. Keep your voices down. These things are blind, which probably means they have an excellent sense of hearing. So stay close, and stay quiet."

Tim started walking into the clearing as silently as he could. Julian walked ahead with him, while Cooper and Dave lagged behind a few yards.

"That guy was sniffing the air a lot," Julian whispered to Tim. "They probably have a good sense of smell as well."

"Speaking of which, do you smell that?" The air was suddenly ripe with the stench of sewage. It was like they just walked into a cloud of concentrated Cooper. "Where the fuck is that coming frooooo—"

Splat.

Tim turned over. He'd fallen at least ten feet and landed on his face, but he wasn't hurt. His fall had been broken by a soft layer of… He looked at his hands, then at the ground around him. "Shit!"

"Tim?" said Julian. He was standing on the side of the trench, staring down, but not at Tim. The ground was an illusion. Tim could see out, having fallen through it, but Julian couldn't see in.

"Shit! Shit! Shit!" said Tim. He was covered in soupy excrement. He could feel it seeping into the hundreds of tiny cuts the jungle plants had given him.

"Where are you?" Julian asked. He turned around. "I don't know. He just disappeared. He's around here somewhere. He keeps saying Shit."

Tim was about to break down and start crying when he saw a familiar face. About twenty feet away from him, a dire rat snarled and bared its brown, shit-stained teeth. Behind it, two more giant rats stared at him through their beady little demon eyes. The largest of the three had a face full of wet fur, and looked none too pleased about it. Tim had faced stronger, more objectively terrifying creatures than these Rottweiler-sized rodents, but since one of their kind had been the first creature in this world to nearly kill him, he had a special terror reserved just for them.

"Ro – Ro – Ro –"

"…your boat?" asked Julian.

"Rope!" Tim remembered he had a rope in his bag. He reached inside, grabbed the coil of rope, wrapped his wrist with one end, and threw the rest of the coil up out of the trench.

"Hey," said Julian. "That's incredible. How did you do that?"

"Pull the goddamn rope!"

The rope pulled him up by the arm just in time to avoid the first rat lunge. The piss-face rat jumped up at him, though, catching his left pant leg.

Tim's vision went wonky as Julian and the dire rat played tug-of-war with him. His head kept bobbing up over the surface of the illusory ground, making it appear as if he was buried up to the neck. And then the rat would pull harder, and he'd see the horrifying reality below.

Dave tipped the scales in the tug-of-war game. He and Julian pulled Tim up out of the trench. The rat's head was now the one bobbing above and below the surface of the illusion as it held on to Tim's pant leg. It looked like a glitchy computer game.

Cooper finally grabbed the dire rat, pulled it away from Tim, and body slammed it back into the trench.

Julian wiped sweat off his forehead. "I guess that explains what the log is for."

"Cooper," said Tim. "This trench is about ten feet wide. Do you think you could jump that?"

"No sweat," said Cooper. "There aren't a whole lot of Strength-based skills, so I put all my points into Swim, Climb, and Jump. I could make that jump with Dave's mom hanging on my dick."

Dave shook his head. "That doesn't even mean anything. That was just purposeless vulgarity."

Tim got on his hands and knees and pawed at the ground until he found the edge. "Okay, Cooper. Get a running start. The edge is here where my hand is."

Cooper ran, jumped, and landed easily on the other side of the invisible trench. As strong as he was, it took every point of Strength he had to lift that log up to a standing position. He carefully felt for the edge of the trench with his foot as he rolled the vertical log into place, then let it fall to the other side, bridging the trench.

Tim and Julian crossed the log with ease. Dave had a tougher time of it, and nearly lost his balance at the end, but Cooper caught him by the arm and pulled him safely the rest of the way.

"Well here we are," said Julian. "Who wants to go in first?"

"I'm going in alone," said Tim. "Can you make me a light?"

"That's crazy," said Cooper. "You almost got killed by a fucking rat just now. How are you gonna take on an army of eyeless assholes?"

"I'm not going to take them on. I'm going to sneak in, get what we came for, and sneak back out again."

Julian shook his head. "I can't let you do that. I'm the reason we're here. At least I've got to go in with you. I can be quiet."

"I'm a rogue," said Tim. "This is what I'm made for. I've got a bunch of ranks in the Move Silently skill. Those are all for nothing if I have you guys tagging along. You're a sorcerer. Now sorcer me up a light."

Julian touched Tim's crossbow. "Light." The weapon glowed with a soft, white light.

"I'm just going to take a peek inside first," said Tim. "Give me ten minutes." He stepped into the open entrance, then turned to his friends. "Or until I start screaming."

Taking his first steps down the stone stairs, Tim felt strange to be Moving Silently while carrying a glowing weapon. It seemed counterintuitive. He'd be the most visible thing in the whole temple.

They don't have eyes. Light means nothing to them.

He descended about fifty more steps before he came to his first obstacle. A set of black velvet curtains with the goddess's symbol embroidered in gold thread. The double rings of whatever the fuck her name was.

Tim licked his dry lips. They tasted like shit. Should he go back and report this? No. This wasn't information that would serve a purpose. Whatever was on the other side of that curtain was what was important. If he turned back now, it would only be because he was too scared to look. Come on, Tim.

Trying not to think about what he was doing, he felt for the edge of the left curtain. The glowing crossbow, loaded and cocked, felt heavy in his right hand. His heart was racing and he knew that he'd shoot at anything he saw, whether it was a threat or not. With his luck, it would probably be a gong, or a set of wind chimes. He moved his finger away from the trigger.

On one. Ready? One!

He pulled back the curtain and thrust his crossbow inside to reveal…

More stairs?

Tim sighed silently, trying to force his heart rate to slow. Why the hell would they even put a curtain there? It's not much of a defense. But then, this wasn't meant to be a fortress. It was a place of worship.

The stairway beyond the curtain curved gently to the right. Twenty steps later, Tim arrived at another set of curtains, identical to the first. He pulled the left curtain back and was not surprised to see more stairs. He was surprised, however, to hear faint chanting. It wasn't in any language he understood, but it must have been at least a hundred voices strong.

That's what the curtains were for, to absorb sound. Tim followed the stairs down in an increasingly tighter spiral until he reached a third and, from the clarity of sound on the other side, final set of curtains.

His heart was beating fast again. He pulled the curtains apart very slowly, just enough to peek through. As he expected, it was too dark on the other side without the aid of his glowing crossbow to see much, but he appeared to be on the edge of an enormous pit, with orange light coming from somewhere below.

Reminding himself again that these creatures had no eyes, he worked up the courage to step through the curtains. The chamber was vast. Tim found himself on the top tier of something like a Greek theater. Concentric circles formed ten foot high steps that eventually led down to a fire pit with a stone dais raised out of the flames at its center. A lone figure stood atop the dais, chanting words that Tim couldn't understand. Above his eyeless head, he held a six inch golden statue, no doubt the item they had been tasked with stealing. A congregation of at least two hundred worshipers stood on the second tier, repeating the chant. How the fuck were they going to pull this off?

"Guard!" shouted a voice from the tier below Tim. "Guard! I'm hungry! I'm so hungry!"

Tim got on his knees and peeked over the edge. The upper tiers of the temple were much less populated than the lower ones, but this asshole was calling a lot of attention to himself, and potentially to Tim as well.

One of the eyeless creatures – Tim was almost certain it was the same one they'd seen outside – stomped toward the source of the pleading voice. He didn't look pleased. He paused briefly as he passed under Tim's position and sniffed the air. He raised his upper lip in disgust, showing off his rotten teeth as he faced Tim directly. Tim remained perfectly still, holding his breath and trying not to piss himself again.

"Guard!" shouted the voice again. "I'm hungry!"

The creature broke his non-gaze away from Tim and continued stomping toward the prisoner.

"No food!" said the creature. "You. Eat. Morning!"

"Oh," said the prisoner. "Okay."

That's it? Okay? How hungry could you be, you fat fucker? You nearly got me killed!

Then it occurred to him. The prisoner wasn't trying to get the guard's attention. He was trying to get his attention. He'd seen the light from the crossbow, and wanted to let Tim know he was there. But he couldn't very well shout Hey! Come help me! Not bad thinking on his part.

Normally, Tim would look at this as another chore to heap on the pile, but this guy might actually be useful. There were a hell of a lot of those things between him and the golden statue. Tim was ready to take whatever help he could get.

He crawled back to the curtains leading to the staircase, in case he needed to make a run for it, and waited for the guard to go away. Grumbling as he left, the guard proved easy to keep track of by sound.

When Tim deemed it safe enough, he sneaked to just above where he estimated the prisoner's voice to have been coming from. The tiers were interrupted by staircases every couple of hundred feet, and Tim was right in the middle of two of them. Each one had a few of the eyeless creatures milling about, so he decided to take the fast way down. He crept up to the edge of the tier he was standing on, and lowered himself down until he was hanging by his fingertips. There was still about six feet of empty space between his feet and the next tier, but he didn't think that would amount to any loss of Hit Points. He let go.

As soon as he landed, two meaty hands lunged out at him, grabbed his upper arms, and pulled him up against iron bars. The dwarf on the other side of the bars averted his eyes as if in pain.

"You have to help me!" he whispered.

"That's what I'm trying to do, fucktard," said Tim. "Let go of me so I can get you out of there. And for fuck's sake, keep your voice down."

The dwarf released Tim's arms. While Tim dug through his bag for his thieves' tools, the dwarf hunkered down next to him.

"They killed my brother two days ago," said the dwarf, wringing his hands. "I fear they will come for me tonight."

Tim unrolled his picks and chose the one he thought best suited to this particular lock. "Your brother didn't have hazel eyes, did he?"

A tear rolled down the dwarf's dirty, haggard face. "Aye, and a beautiful pair of eyes they were. How is it you come to guess that?"

Tim tried to remain focused on the lock. He felt around inside for the tumblers. "Just lucky. I've got a really high Intelligence."

"I won't argue that," said the dwarf. "It was right smart of you to cover yourself in grimlock excrement."

"Grimlock!" said Tim. Since he saw the first one outside, he had been trying to remember what these things were called.

"They can find an outsider by scent."

The lock popped, more loudly than Tim would have preferred. "Shit!" What was he doing? This wasn't part of the plan.

"Olag will have heard that," said the dwarf.

"Who the fuck is Olag?"

"He's the grimlock in charge of guarding me. Real nasty feller."

"Yeah," said Tim. "I think I know the one." The door creaked when Tim pushed it. Figuring it best to avoid a prolonged noise, Tim relied on ripping-off-a-Band-Aid logic and gave it a good hard push. Noisy as the door was, it was surprisingly light on the hinges. The scream of iron on iron was loud enough to interrupt the chanting a hundred feet below them, and the clang of door against cage didn't help matters either.

"Olag will certainly have heard that."

"Shit," said Tim. He'd fucked up trying to rescue this stupid dwarf. The statue was going to have to wait. "Let's move."

He took a step toward the stairway on the right, but there was Olag, running at them with a raised battleaxe, screaming like an enraged chimpanzee. Tim fired his crossbow. The sphere of light which had been surrounding him was now surrounding the grimlock.

"That fucking idiot!" said Tim. "He enchanted the bolt!"

Olag fell, and the light turned dim and pink as blood gushed out of his throat. It was a Critical Hit for sure, which was nice, but left Tim and his fugitive dwarf in the dark. Hostile voices barked orders and angry battle cries. The chanting from below turned to chaos.

"Boost me up!" said the dwarf.

"I need to get my bolt back," said Tim. "I can't see without it!"

"Well I can see, halfling. And I'm telling you, there's no time. We must flee now!"

Tim believed him. The howls and barks that made up whatever language the grimlocks spoke were getting louder by the second. He locked his fingers together for the dwarf to step onto. The dwarf climbed from Tim's hands to the horizontal cell bar, then to the top of the tier and disappeared from Tim's view.

"Hey!" shouted Tim, no longer making any effort to keep quiet. "Don't you fuck off on me now!"

"Hurry!" said the dwarf, his hand reaching down as far as it could go. These were not the two most ideal races to be attempting such a maneuver.

Tim had always thought it kind of dumb that halflings got a +2 bonus to Jump checks, considering they got a -2 penalty for Strength, which is the ability score that the Jump skill depends on. But he was grateful for that bonus when he grabbed a cell bar, sprang into the air, and caught the dwarf's hand.

Olag's blood had obscured most of the light Tim's bolt was giving off, leaving Tim as good as blind.

"Hurry!" the dwarf repeated, grabbing Tim's arm and taking off in the direction of the stairwell Tim had entered from. Tim stumbled along blindly, trying to keep up as best as he could.

A particularly enraged roar, much closer than the general cacophony of roars currently echoing all over the temple, came from right in front of them.

"Get down!" said the dwarf. Tim was already on the floor with his arms wrapped over the top of his head. Sparks flashed as steel clanged against stone, but thankfully without the preceding sound of cutting through dwarf.

"Hnnng!" said the nearby grimlock. Tim could only assume that was Grimlockian for I just got uppercutted in the nuts by a pissed off dwarf. It's similar in any language.

The grimlock's axe fell to the floor. The next sound Tim heard was a dwarven grunt, followed by a grimlock scream, which fell away and abruptly stopped about ten feet below them.

"Come, halfling!" said the dwarf. "I have his axe, but dozens more approach." Tim felt the dwarf grab his arm and jerk him forward again. "We can't outrun them. Our only hope is to retreat to the stairwell and take them two at a time. We'll take as many of the eyeless bastards to the Abyss with us as we can!"

Tim felt the velvet brush over him as they passed through the curtain. The dwarf dragged him up a few stairs, then stopped.

"Have you considered not dying as an option?"

"Alas, my boy. I fear it be too late for that. They run far swifter than the likes of us."

The angry howling and barking was growing closer. A mob of angry grimlocks was nearly upon them. Tim crouched on the stairs and felt around in his bag.

"Stand up, lad! Die bravely!"

"I'd rather live cravenly," said Tim. He pulled his caltrop sack out of his bag. "Let's go!" He grabbed the surprised dwarf by the arm and gave him a shove up the stairs.

"Huh?"

"Just move your ass, man!" Tim tossed a single caltrop over his shoulder as he scrambled up the stairs behind the dwarf. A few steps later, he tossed a second.

"Just dump the bag already, and let's be on our way!"

"No," said Tim, continuing his routine of climbing and tossing. "If I shoot my load right now, they'll have it cleared away and be up on our asses long before we reach the –"

A grimlock howled out in pain about twenty feet below them.

"They're right behind us!" said the dwarf, continuing up the stairs.

Tim tossed another caltrop and kept climbing. "But that one fucker with the punctured foot will slow down the whole mob."

Climb. Toss. Climb. Toss.

"They have two choices," Tim continued. "They can proceed very slowly and carefully, not being able to see, hear, or smell these. Or they can risk a hole in the foot. Either way, they're –"

"Hwaaaahhh!" screamed another grimlock, this one maybe thirty feet below them.

It's working!

Tim felt the second curtain brush by him.

"Ho there!" shouted the dwarf. "State your business!"

A long, wet fart squirted out from above.

"They're with me!" said Tim.

"Tim?" said Cooper. "Is that you?"

"Yeah, I'm behind the dwarf. Turn around and start running!"

The five of them hurried up the gradually curving staircase. Dave, being unable to run in his armor, soon fell behind until even Tim had to slow down to avoid hobbling him with caltrops.

Another grimlock screamed in pain. They were somewhere between twenty and thirty feet behind Tim. The lead they had been gaining was now limited by Dave's sluggish Movement Speed.

Ahead, Tim was relieved to see the first faint flashes of light as the rest of his friends passed through the final set of curtains. Cooper was even thoughtful – or clumsy – enough to tear them down on his way through. Finally, Tim could actually see where he was going.

Climb. Toss. Climb. Toss. The bag was getting lighter. He'd be out of caltrops soon.

They were still maintaining their short lead, and Tim guessed they'd probably reach the surface unscathed, but what then? There were still a couple of hundred grimlocks after them. Should they stand and fight at the entrance of the temple? Between the five of them, they'd be able to take down quite a few of these assholes if they kept coming out only two at a time, but they'd only be prolonging the inevitable. They couldn't outrun them either. Making a break for open ground was only asking to be surrounded and more quickly slaughtered. Their only hope was that someone else was working on a third option.

The light of day, grim and grey as it was, widened as Tim approached the top of the staircase.

"We're almost there, Dave," said Tim, trying to be encouraging. "Move your ass!"

Dave huffed as he marched up the stairs. "You know I'm going as fast as I can!"

Tim dumped the few remaining caltrops from his sack and bolted past Dave to the surface, where Julian was standing impatiently with an open scroll.

"Get out of the way!" said Julian. "Dave, move to the right!" He looked at the scroll, the parchment trembling in his hands. "Horse!"

Tim dove out of the way as a hefty black steed materialized next to Julian.

"Yah!" said Julian, slapping the beast on the rump. It obediently charged blindly into the temple entrance.

"Fuck!" Dave shouted from within. The clash of metal, stone, and probably hoof, echoed out from the darkness of the staircase.

"Shit," said Julian. He called down to Dave, "I meant my right. I should have specified. My bad."

Dave finally emerged, among the screams of angry grimlocks and the whinny of a surprised horse, trudging up the last few stairs. He had a black left eye, his face was all scraped up, and his nose was bleeding into his beard. He didn't say a word as he limp-waddled past Tim, toward the log bridge, revealing a fresh hoof print on the backplate of his armor.

"I'm really angry!" said Cooper when Dave, Julian, Tim, and the other dwarf had crossed to the outer edge of the invisible trench. His body grew thick with four Strength Points' worth of muscle, and he picked the log up off the ground with ease.

"Good idea, Coop," said Tim. "Cut off their means of follow—What the fuck are you doing?"

Cooper turned around to face the temple entrance.

"Bwaaahhh!" said the first grimlock to reach the surface. He brandished his battleaxe as he sniffed the air for someone to hit with it. His nose wrinkled as he faced Cooper, but his disgust didn't last long. Cooper sent him back downstairs with a log to the chest. Several grimlocks just behind him screamed as they were forced back.

Cooper ran and jumped a good five feet before reaching the edge of the trench, but still landed about five feet beyond the other side.

"Julian, Dave, new guy!" said Tim. "Start running. We'll catch up with you at the skull tree."

"What are you going to do?" asked Julian.

"We have to stay back and fix Cooper's latest blunder."

Julian needed no further explanation. He, Ravenus, and the two dwarves bolted toward the jungle.

"You said it was a good idea," said Cooper, who had recovered from his Barbarian Rage.

"That's because I thought you were going to throw the log into the trench," said Tim. "I didn't think you were going to hand them their bridge."

"But did you see the look on that dude's face when I hit him with the log?"

Tim grinned as he loaded a bolt into his crossbow. "Yeah, that was pretty epic."

"So," said Cooper. "What are we doing?"

Tim trained his crossbow on the temple entrance as angry grimlock voices once again approached the surface. "As soon as they lay down that log, you're going to shove it into the trench."

The first two grimlocks emerged unburdened by their log. Tim chose a target, but held his fire, waiting to see what they would do. Both of them sniffed the air, homed in on Tim and Cooper, and started running for the trench.

Tim waited for his chosen target to get within about ten feet of where he'd have to jump from before firing his crossbow. As he'd hoped, the bolt interrupted his jump, but not his inertia. The injured grimlock stumbled, fell, and disappeared beneath the illusory ground.

The other grimlock cleared the trench, swinging his axe down at Cooper as he landed on the other side. Cooper ducked the blow and punched the grimlock in its eyeless face. It fell backwards into the trench. Invisible though they were, both grimlocks could be heard screaming as they tried to fend off what sounded like an army of hungry dire rats.

The next four grimlocks emerged with the log. The two at the front stood at the edge of the trench. With rehearsed timing, the four of them swung the log twice before releasing it, forming a perfect bridge, which they quickly used.

They were so efficient, in fact, that the first two were already on top of Cooper by the time he got a hold on the log. They tried to wrestle him away from it, but Cooper held on.

Tim drew his dagger, ran up, and stabbed one of the grimlocks in the small of the back. It let out a single, sharp cry, but Tim knew it was dead before it fell over and disappeared into the trench.

As the second pair of grimlocks stepped onto the bridge, Cooper gave up his struggle and concentrated fully on the log. While he succeeded in neutralizing the bridge, he did so at the cost of falling into the trench with it. Dire rats shrieked under the sudden weight of a log, a half-orc, and three more grimlocks.

"Cooper!" cried Tim, loading his crossbow again.

"I'm okay," Cooper called up. "Give me a minute!"

"We don't have a minute!" said Tim as two more grimlocks came limping out of the temple entrance. These two had obviously fallen victim to his caltrops. As pissed off as they appeared, Tim reasoned that they were no immediate threat. They didn't look to be in any state for trench-jumping.

The next two, however, looked perfectly nimble, as did the two that followed them.

There was a hell of a fight going on just below Tim's feet. Axes clanged against rocks. Rats squealed and hissed. Grimlocks grunted, growled, and barked. Cooper swore a lot. Tim wanted to help out, shoot something that wasn't Cooper, but he couldn't see anything beneath the façade of still, featureless earth.

Firing his crossbow might also give his position away. Tim couldn't be sure, but he didn't think the gathering crowd of grimlocks was paying any attention to him. His scent must still be masked. They looked to be far more interested in the fight below.

More than a dozen grimlocks crowded at the edge of their side of the trench, eagerly cheering whenever they heard a dire rat squeal. Tim got the feeling that they did this sort of thing for recreation. It reminded him of listening to a boxing match on the radio. Still more grimlocks filed out of the stairwell, some limping, some not, all eager to listen to the battle raging on below.

"Fuck! No! Get that one!" Cooper sounded as though he'd formed a temporary alliance with the surviving grimlocks. Getting trapped in a shit pit full of dire rats makes unlikely bedfellows.

Tim wanted to call out for his friends to come back, or call for Cooper to hurry up and do whatever he had planned. Keeping silent was driving him nuts.

"Ha ha!" said Cooper as one of the grimlocks below grunted. "Stupid fucker." One of the dire rats gave a particularly agitated squeal before flying out of the ground like it had been launched with a catapult.

The dire rat landed in the middle of the crowd of about fifty grimlocks, who then proceeded to freak the fuck out. The chaos that erupted was beautiful. Grimlocks screamed, shoved, and started swinging their axes with wild abandon. At least eight of them, who had been too close to the edge, fell into the trench, where they were met with more bloodthirsty rats and Cooper.

"Fuck! You!"

Two seconds later, a grimlock head flew into the crowd. This neither stemmed nor bolstered the panic-driven madness, as none of them could see it. Nice try, Cooper.

A second dire rat thrown into the fray, however, bolstered the madness quite nicely. Then Cooper's hands popped out of the ground, followed by the rest of him. He was scraped up, bloodied, and covered in shit, but he'd looked worse.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," said Cooper, climbing the rest of the way out of the trench. He picked up Tim and started running.

Tim fired his crossbow into the crowd of rat-crazed grimlocks because why the fuck not? He didn't know if he hit any of them or not. They were all screaming.

"How did you get out of the pit?" Tim asked, bouncing under Cooper's arm as they crashed through jungle foliage.

"I piled up a few grimlock bodies, climbed on those, and used my Jump skill."

"It's more useful than I'd given it credit for."

Before long, Cooper and Tim caught up to the others at the skull tree. Cooper set Tim on the ground.

The dwarf sat against the black trunk of the skull tree, cradling the head of his dead brother. "O Baelrick, sweet brother. What beautiful eyes you once had. How I hoped to gaze upon them one last time as I say goodbye. But alas, those savage devils deny me even that!" He turned the head outward to show how his brother's eyes had been removed.

"Pfft," said Cooper. "That was no savage devil. That –"

Julian clonked him on the head with his quarterstaff. "Shut up, Cooper!"

"What the fuck!"

Tim watched curiously as Julian attempted to cover what Cooper had already blabbed while simultaneously justifying his own outburst.

"The man is grieving," Julian explained slowly and deliberately. "The grimlocks ripped out this man's eyes. If that isn't savagery, then I don't know what is. This isn't the time for one of your lectures on racial harmony."

Well played, Julian. Would Cooper pick up the innuendo?

"Did you get hit in the fucking head? What the fuck are you talking about?"

Apparently not.

"We can talk about this later," said Julian, holding his staff like he was ready to hit Cooper with it again. "Let the man grieve."

"I'm a dwarf," said the dwarf. "In case you haven't noticed." He stood up. "My name is Dodwynn. I thank you, halfling, for rescuing me."

Tim lowered his head. "I'm sorry we didn't arrive in time to save your brother as well."

"Don't be," said Dodwynn. "The grimlocks did him a kindness, believe it or not. I feared he was destined for a worse fate, which would have claimed both our lives."

"What's that?" asked Julian.

"Lycanthropy."

"You don't say."

"It was torture," said Dodwynn. "Every day we were locked in that cage, not knowing when he would turn. We nearly went mad trying to keep track of how much time had passed, trying to remember when we last saw the moon, and what phase it was in."

"How long were you down there?"

"It's impossible to say for sure. Based on my beard growth, close to a month. Baelrick must have been bitten just after a full moon."

"So if he was still alive," said Julian. "And he hadn't turned by now…"

"Then tonight would almost certainly be the night."

"We have to go back for that statue," said Cooper.

"Statue?" said Dodwynn. "You sought the holy figure? That was our quest as well. Were one of you bitten?"

"There's no time for that," said Julian. "If it's his blood I need, I'll just go and get it. Werewolf or not, how strong could he be? Surely the five of us can hold the bastard down while I bite him back, right?" He turned to Dodwynn. "That is, if you'll join us."

"I believe we seek the same creature," said Dodwynn. "For my brother's honor, I shall join you."

"Any objections?"

Tim shook his head. "I like our odds against one werewolf better than two hundred angry grimlocks."

Evening brought more rain, which fell on them even harder once they emerged from the jungle. Once night fell, everyone kept a sharp eye on Julian, looking for signs of his turning. The rain felt great to Tim. It washed away the crust of grimlock shit from his skin and clothes. He'd never felt so alive, and so ready to kill someone. Tim's desire to hunt down Colin was neither altruistic nor borne of his friendship for Julian. It was straight up vengeance.

It was still raining when they reached the main road leading back to Cardinia. Julian had made it through the night thus far with no hint of change, as evidenced by his answers to Dodwynn's continuous questions.

"Do you feel anything?"

"No."

"Not even a little tingle?"

"No."

"Do you feel maybe you've grown a bit more hair in your genital area?"

"NO!"

"It just don't make no sense." Dodwynn looked up, letting the rain splash on his face. "If only we could see through those clouds."

Julian stopped walking. "Of course! Why didn't I think of that before?" He looked at Ravenus, tucked under his serape. "Why didn't you think of that before?"

"Think of what, sir?" said Ravenus. "I've only been privy to the part of this conversation where you keep saying 'No.' It's a tad hard to follow."

"Ravenus, I need you to go up and look at the moon for me. Can you do that?"

"If you like, sir. But I'd much rather this be a moment we could share."

"Stay focused, Ravenus! This is important. I need you to go look at the moon, and then come back here and report. Got it?"

Ravenus nodded resolutely. "Right away, sir!" He launched himself from Julian's bosom and climbed into the night.

"I don't know what you expect to gain by this," said Dave.

"What are you talking about?" said Julian. "I'd like to have at least some idea of when I'm going to turn into a goddamn dog!"

"Does it change what we've got to do tonight?"

"It might."

"Suppose Ravenus comes back and tells us we've got two weeks left."

"Impossible," said Dodwynn.

"But what if?" Dave continued. "Are any of us really going to rest while there's the potential for you wolfing out on us? Whatever we're going to do, we've got to –"

Ravenus returned, spraying the group as he shook the water out of his feathers.

"Did you see it?" asked Julian.

"Yes, sir."

"And?"

"Well, I'm not sure what you're expecting, sir. I'm hardly a poet, and you haven't given me much time to –"

"What phase is it in?"

"Phase, sir?"

"Is it waxing, waning, full, new?"

"Oh," said Ravenus. "It's full."

"Full?"

"Quite full, sir." Ravenus cleared his throat and flapped his wings. "Like the eye of a goddess, it shines down on –"

"What does he mean, it's full?" asked Dodwynn. "That can't be. Why haven't you changed?"

"Could it be the cloud cover?" asked Tim. "Maybe you have to be exposed directly to the moonlight, like a vampire is only affected by the sun if the light actually touches him."

"Dunno," said Dodwynn. "T'wouldn't seem like all that big of an issue if it could be managed by staying indoors a couple of nights a month."

"I disagree," said Julian. "It still feels like a pretty big issue to me. I'd much rather bring the odds of me involuntarily killing all of my friends down from slim to none."

Dodwynn stroked his beard. "Could explain why my brother never turned."

Tim looked up at the sky. The clouds were still thick in the sky, but who knew how fast that could change? "We have to get you into town, like, pronto. You don't have any more Mount spells?"

Julian shook his head. "I used all I had to get us to the temple, and then I used my emergency scroll to send a horse down the stairs."

"Shit," said Tim. "You might still have a chance to fix this if you get back to Colin before you change. But if the weather clears up before we get there…" Tim bit his lower lip, trying to think of a way to move faster.

"I can dig a hole," said Cooper. "We'll bury Julian until the sun comes up."

Julian frowned. "Anyone feel free to jump in with an Option B."

"Is it after midnight?" asked Dave.

Cooper snorted. "If it isn't, then your fairy godmother fucked you over bigtime."

"If it's technically a new day, all of our one-use-per-day abilities reset. Julian can get his spells back. Cooper gets his Barbarian Rage. We've been through this before."

"I'm really angry!" said Cooper.

"Cooper!" said Tim, turning around. "You don't have to waste –"

But Cooper had already hulked out. He ran over to a young pine tree about as thick around as one of Tim's legs.

"Fuck you, tree!" He punched it in the trunk, felling it in one blow. He twisted and tore the top of the tree from the stump and hurled it like a harpoon into the meadow.

"That wasn't strictly necessary," said Dave. "Sorcerers only need a few minutes of meditation to prepare their spells. We could have just waited for Julian to try."

Dodwynn scratched his head. "You all are a peculiar lot. The elf seems less affected by the moon than any of you."

While Cooper spent the remainder of his Barbarian Rage using various parts of his body to break up the tree trunk into smaller pieces, Julian sat on the wet road and meditated.

Tim watched the sky nervously for ten minutes. Every time the rain seemed to let up just a little bit, he clutched his dagger hilt, for all the good it would do him against a werewolf. He didn't know as much as he should about werewolves, but he knew that attacking one without a silver or enchanted weapon was tantamount to jumping the queue to have your throat ripped out.

Finally, Julian stood up. "Horse." And just like that, there was a gorgeous white stallion glistening in the rain next to him. Julian was still limited to four Level 1 spells, so Tim doubled up with him.

"These will only last a couple of hours, but that should be enough time to get back to town if we ride fast."

Once they were all mounted, they galloped as fast as their magical steeds would take them. It was thrilling at first, but Tim's arms soon became sore from holding on so tightly to Julian, and his ass started to ache from bouncing up and down on the horse. He was cold and wet and tired and sore. He wished he could just curl up and go to sleep.

"There are the walls!" Julian finally cried out. "We made it!"

Tim didn't know what he was so excited about. Making it back to town was the easy part. Drawing blood from a werewolf might prove a bit more challenging. He wished Cooper hadn't blown his Barbarian Rage already.

The main gates were closed at this time of night, but as long as you weren't leading a hostile army or a horde of zombies, the guards were pretty lax about letting folks in through a small door on the side.

Julian dismissed his magical steeds outside the city walls. "It feels good to end that spell without some act of horrible butchery."

Within the walls, the cobbled streets of Cardinia were cool and slick as Tim sloshed through the puddles. Having no idea what time it was, he had no way of knowing whether the lack of activity was due to the rain or the late hour. His answer came as the group neared the Collapsed Sewer District. Lights shone through several tavern windows, flickering where the source was fire, and steady where the source was enchanted. Tim judged the hour to be around two in the morning. The bars were still open, but the noise level suggested that things were beginning to die down.

Nobody remembered the exact location or the name of the pub they had met Colin in, so they wandered around aimlessly until Tim recognized the gang of elves that had almost kicked his ass the night before. They were huddled together, three of them barely able to stand up. The two lucid-looking elves looked scared. When one of them shifted their stance, Tim caught a glimpse of what they were all looking at. Steely blue eyes peered out of a black, hooded cloak. Colin, that werewolf motherfucker himself.

Tim stopped walking and waved for his friends to duck into an alley across the street.

"He's there," Tim whispered. "He's talking to a group of elves. They look drunk and scared. He's probably pulling the same shit on them that he did with us."

"Let's go jump him," said Cooper excitedly. "If the other group joins in, our odds will be even better."

"Bad idea," said Dave. "They're scared, confused, and drunk. They might just as easily try to defend him if they think he holds the cure for their affliction. We're not going to have time to explain our case before all hell breaks loose."

Tim and Julian peeked around the corner. Colin was showing the group a vial of red liquid.

"That's his pitch," said Julian. "He's sending them off to find the statue, and his blood is their reward."

"What a dick," said Tim.

Julian pulled back into the alley. "He's got the vial on him. Let's pretend we've got the statue, and I'll see if I can't use Diplomacy to get him to give up the blood first, like a measure of good faith or something. I'd rather drink it from a vial than bite into him."

"Oh," said Cooper. "I was thinking we'd just stab him and you could lap up the blood off the street."

"I'm still liking the vial option better."

Tim kept watching until Colin's newest marks skulked away, the two lucid ones clutching bloody handkerchiefs around their wrists.

"He's alone!" Tim whispered. "Now's the time."

"Would you mind staying behind for a minute?" Julian asked Dodwynn. "I'd like to try to settle this without a fight. You can put your vengeance off for another minute, can't you?"

"My brother, Baelrick. He was a good dwarf. He would want you to be free of this curse."

Julian nodded, took a step forward, then stopped. "Of course, if things do turn violent, feel free to jump in."

Dodwynn grinned, though Tim suspected the streaks running down the sides of his face consisted of more than rain. "Aye, lad. You can count on it."

Julian looked under his serape. "Ravenus, I need you to keep still."

"Still, sir?"

"As still as a statue."

"Ah, I see, sir." He nodded his head once, then became as rigid as if he'd been carved out of wood.

Julian covered his bird and addressed the group… specifically Cooper. "I do the talking. Got it?" After everyone nodded, Julian led them out into the street.

Colin was sitting on a crate in the alley, smoking a pipe. The second story of the building he sat next to was built slightly wider than the first. The overhang kept him out of the rain.

When the group was halfway across the street, Colin looked up, startled. He stood quickly and tapped out his pipe against the wall, as if it was the high school principal who had just caught him smoking.

Julian halted and raised his hands slowly.

Colin's face relaxed into a smirk. "I wasn't expecting to see you boys again… so soon."

Julian lowered his hands. "We don't like to waste time running other people's errands."

Cold. Businesslike. Not Julian's normal M.O., but Tim could see it being an effective diplomatic strategy.

Colin pulled down his hood and stepped out into the rain. He still had a scratch on his face that Tim thought he remembered Ravenus giving him. His smirk was gone.

"Do you have the statue?"

Julian tapped the bulge beneath his serape on his left breast. "Do you have the vial?"

Something was strange. One thing Tim was pretty sure about was that lycanthropes could only be harmed by silver or enchanted weapons. A bird claw wound should have healed almost instantaneously, unless… Ravenus was Julian's familiar. Did that make him magical? Did his claws count as enchanted weapons? That would be cool.

Colin pulled back the left side of his cloak about an inch, and raised his right hand as if he was going to grab something, but stopped short of doing so.

In turn, Julian pulled back the left side of his serape. A high-pitched screech and a storm of black feathers exploded out of it.

"NO!" Julian cried.

Colin yelped like a scared puppy, raising his arms to shield his face, but Ravenus was already on him, scratching and pecking and cawing.

"So," said Cooper. "The plan…?"

"Get him!" shouted Julian.

"Sweet!" Cooper bolted forward and tackled Colin to the ground, instantly pinning him in a sleeper hold.

"You… double… crossing… bastards!" Colin choked the words out.

"Where is the vial?" Julian demanded. Ravenus continued to flap and claw and peck.

"Take it!" said Colin. "It's inside my cloak!"

"Ravenus!" said Julian. "Stand down." The bird flew to Julian's shoulder, leaving Colin's face a blood-streaked mess. "You were supposed to stay put. Like a statue, remember?"

"Apologies, sir," said Ravenus. "You didn't fill me in on the whole plan. When you tapped me and opened your serape, I assumed it was a call to action."

"You're right," said Julian. "I should have been clearer. But look at that. You kicked his ass."

"I do what I can, sir."

Julian took a knee next to Colin. "Let's get this over with."

Cooper loosened his hold on Colin, but did not let go.

Julian reached under Colin's cloak and felt around until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small glass vial of red liquid.

"Take it and go!" said Colin. "Leave me alone before I call for the Kingsgua—"

Cooper slapped a hand over Colin's mouth.

Julian unstoppered the vial and sucked down the contents. His face contorted like he had just bitten into a lemon. He looked closely at the vial. "This isn't blood." He glared down at Colin. "What the hell did I just drink?"

Cooper released his hold on Colin's face.

Colin spit a few times, no doubt trying to rid himself of the taste of Cooper. His eyes darted back and forth, like he was searching for an exit. "It's p-p-p-pomegranate juice."

"What the fuck, man?"

"That's good for you," said Cooper. "It's got, like, antioxygens and shit in it."

Julian glared down at Colin. "Are you expecting me to believe that the cure for lycanthropy is pomegranate juice?"

Colin shook his head. "No. I just used that because it looks like blood. It was all for show."

"Hmmm…" said Julian. "I guess I could just lick your face, but that would be weird."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Okay, here's the plan. Cooper, Dave, hold him down. Tim, give him a little jab in the neck with your dagger."

"Wait, WHAT?"

"I need your blood, right? Pomegranate juice just isn't going to cut it."

"No no no no no," said Colin, laughing shallowly. "You don't understand."

"What, exactly, don't I understand?"

"It was all a sham," said Colin. "The affliction, the cure. I made all of that up. I'm not even a werewolf."

"Bullshit," said Tim. "I saw you change."

"I did too," said Julian. "And I was pretty lucid."

"It was a simple Alter Self spell," said Colin. "I'm an apprentice wizard. My professor is a devout disciple of Yulu Hari. I thought if I could get that statue, you know…"

"That's what this whole scheme was about?" asked Julian. "You trying to impress your wizard professor?"

"I'm sorry," Colin pleaded. "Really, I am. But hey, nobody got hurt, right? No harm done. Please don't kill me."

Julian shook his head. "You're a good looking guy, Colin. You should have taken up sorcery."

Colin frowned. "I don't know how those two sentences are related to one another, but thanks."

"I don't know either, Colin. And you're welcome."

"Does that mean you're not going to kill me?"

Julian smiled. "Of course we're not going to kill you."

"You'll let me go then?"

Tim was impressed with the uncharacteristic streak of cruelty Julian was demonstrating. He didn't know what Julian had in mind, but he was pretty sure he was toying with this guy.

"Sure," said Julian. "We'll let you go, but we'd like to introduce you to a friend we met along the way." He turned toward where Tim and Dave were standing and waved them aside.

Tim hadn't realized that Dodwynn had been standing right behind them.

"Dodwynn!" said Colin, trying to mask his panic. "I didn't think you… Where's your brother?"

"You two have obviously got some catching up to do," said Julian. "We'll just leave you to it."

Dodwynn stared gravely at Colin. "You promised my brother some of your blood. I'm here to collect."

Julian relaxed his cold, hard demeanor. "Would you mind giving us some time before you settle up? I really don't want to see or hear any of this."

"Don't worry about that, elf." Dodwynn cracked his knuckles. "I'm planning on taking me time with him. I've got a place in mind where no one will hear him."

Julian winced. "Yeah, see, I'd rather not know anything like that either."

Dodwynn looked down at Colin. "On your feet, boy."

Cooper released Colin, who promptly scrambled to his feet toward the alley.

Dodwynn kicked him in the ass before he had his balance, and Colin's face smashed down hard into the wet cobblestones. Dodwynn looked at Tim, raising his hand to his eyebrow in a casual salute. "I thank you again, halfling. Now you boys run along. I got this under control."

Tim didn't need to be asked twice. He did an about face and started walking away. It wasn't long before his friends caught up to him.

"Do you guys feel right about leaving that guy to be torture-murdered?" asked Dave.

"Absolutely," said Tim.

"Fuck him," said Cooper.

Julian said nothing, so Dave started up again.

"I expect that from Tim and Cooper. But I'm a little surprised at you, Julian."

Julian stopped in his tracks. "I didn't see you jumping in to save the day."

"Hey hey," said Dave, raising his hands defensively. "I'm not accusing you. You're right. I didn't help the guy either."

When Julian started walking again, Dave finished his thought. "Of course, I also didn't deliberately serve him up for the slaughter."

"You know what?" said Julian. "Screw you, Dave. I was angry, yeah. And if we had more time, I might have tried to talk Dodwynn out of killing the guy, or at least doing it quickly. But I had a decision to make."

"If we had more time?" Dave scoffed. "Where the hell do we have to be at this hour?"

"I had to choose between hanging out and reasoning with Dodwynn, or trying to catch up to those elves Colin just sent to the temple."

"Aw fuck," said Cooper. "Is that where we're going? I'm tired, and I need a drink."

Dave folded his arms incredulously. "It sounds like you're rationalizing to me. Were you really thinking that at the time, or is this something you're pulling out of your ass right now?"

"You'll be pulling my foot out of yours if you don't shut up."

"I'm with Cooper," said Tim. "Those guys are assholes. I'm exhausted, and wet, and sober. That's just no way to feel. Let's give them some credit, huh? They're probably not as stupid as we are."

"You think?"

"Sure. They'll take one look at that skull tree, and decide to come back to town for reinforcements. Or maybe they'll just decide to cope with lycanthropy – build a cage, buy some manacles, whatever – and be pleasantly surprised in a month."

Julian tugged on his ears. "I guess it could play out that way. That makes more sense than just charging unprepared into a temple full of grimlocks."

A bell rang out from a nearby tavern. Last call. Tim tried not to look too hopeful.

"Heck," Julian continued rationalizing. "They might even know what phase the moon is in, and know that they have a full month to prepare. Or they might have horses. We probably wouldn't catch up to them. They could be anywhere. I still feel kind of bad though."

"I've got a cure for that," said Tim. "Let's hurry before they close the bar."