There were once two twin worlds, yin and yang, Female and male. The world of Yin was covered in life, and the world of Yang was a wasteland, with only sparse vegetation. Yin was nurturing, while Yang gave strength. The two worlds were connected to each other by several naturally occurring portals. This weakened the barriers around them, allowing other worlds to "bleed into" them, creating temporary connections to these other worlds. These portals disrupted the flow of energy on both worlds, making magic erratic.

The Zyli, beings which could direct the flow of energy and used this ability to travel between worlds, came to these twin worlds. They felt the energy of this world and knew that as long as the barriers around these worlds were weak, the magic would never stabilize. Two groups formed, one in favor of reinforcing the barrier, the other believing that they could fix the flow of energy within the worlds with their abilities.

Without enough strength to reinforce the barrier on both worlds, the first group went the sister world, and the second group went to the brother world. After several days, the portals between the worlds were destroyed. A few days later, the Zyli from the sister world created a portal to the brother world. They had succeeded in reinforcing the barrier. They created a web of energy across the planet, concentrating the world's energy. Unfortunately, that meant that outside of these lines, the energy would be extremely weak.

On the Sister world the yang grew, as one cannot exist without the other, and the planet became a more harsh environment. On the Brother planet Yin grew, and life began to spread. Soon life from the various worlds it was connected to temporarily began to seed itself across the surface.

The Zyli from the Sister world knew that they had weakened themselves when they severed the worlds from each other, so they built cities, intent on teaching the various races on both worlds of magic, in a attempt to prevent magic from dieing on either. They became known by the other races as the First Ones.

On the world of Yin, humans slowly became the dominant lifeform and, with portals to other worlds usually being artificial and rare, they managed to become the dominant lifeform, using technology instead of magic. On the world of Yang the many races competed and struggled for survival, and learned to cope with the constant influx of new people and creatures. Their magic grew in strength and complexity, despite the sparse and erratic nature of the world's magic.

The world of Yin became known as Earth, and the World of Yang became known as Mym.

-The Twin Worlds, First ones mythology

---

Siana closed the book and placed it back on the library shelf. She couldn't remember reading that story before, but it seemed familiar, as so many things do. A local warriors guild had loaned her the use of their facilities for meeting her new team before they left for the mission, the one in which she would lead them into the Fog. She knew they thought she was going to die, as few of them would even brave the Fog, but for whatever reason, she was confident she would find the town by the lake.

As they entered, she watched them. They had met before to get an idea of the abilities of the others, but knew little about each other besides that. Hopefully they would learn more about each other on the journey. "Thank you for coming." she said to those that showed up, noticing that several would had shown up at the original meetings had not shown up to head into the Fog. She couldn't really blame them, though. "If everyone is here, then we'll leave. It will take us about a third of an hour to get to the point where we must enter the Fog."

Kis glanced around the alley corner into the main street as she quickly wiped the blood from her blade. She hated coming into town, much preferring the wild places in the forests where her senses were sharpest, but at time like these the trip was unavoidable.

With the tip of her boot she rolled the mugger over in the gutter before leaning down and quickly running her hand over his ragged clothes. She'd known as soon as he'd tried stopping her two streets back that his intentions were impure, and as he'd corralled her into the dark passage between the buildings she'd read the smugness he'd had at his own ingenuity. If only he'd had the foresight to check on his friends before leading her into the trap, perhaps he wouldn't have been so surprised to find them with their throat already cut.

The search was almost fruitless, Kis's fingers only managing to locate a light purse with a couple of coins and a short, stubby dagger which looked as though it had been crafted from the broken remains of a much larger blade. With a sigh she emptied the coins into her own purse and tossed the dagger into her satchel. Perhaps she'd be able to trade it for something, or use it as part of an animal trap next time she went hunting.

Pulling her cloak up over her head Kis blended into the crowd as she made her way towards the guild hall. She was already late for her appointment after her little detour, but at least the men had been rewarded for their intentions. It didn't take long to reach her destination and with a quick, practiced flick of her wrists she removed her cloak and folded it up into her bag before stepping through the doorway into the noisy arena of machismo.

As she wove her way through the army of adventurers, all of whom were either seeking new quests and missions to test their mettle or claiming their rewards for tasks completed, Kismet carefully eyed up her competition. Officially she wasn't a member of any guild, but most of the townships agreed that her talent for locating new portals and the aid she gave to newcomers to the realm made up for any lack of official standing, and for some of the guildmembers this agreement spat in the face of the years of hard work and training they'd endured before earning their place on the roster.

Luckily it seemed that most of her naysayers where out of town, hopefully dying in some ill-begotten dungeon somewhere, and all that greeted her were the friendly nods and waves of adventurers she'd worked happily with in the past, some of whom may not have survived their first night in Mym had it not been for her assistance. Sharing their greetings as she went Kis made her way up the stairs to the upper floor before turning down the corridor towards the guild's library.

She rarely used the room herself, apart from researching the odd potion or handing in a newly revised map, but for some the chamber was home away from home, especially the magic users who seemed to colonise the place on a semi-permanent basis. Wondering how the party's newest paymaster had been received when they'd told the squatters that the room had been hired for a private function Kis stepped through the door and quietly slipped into the back of the meeting, hoping her late arrival wouldn't cause too much of a disturbance.

"So... You must be Siana." A dry and raspy voice calmly approached her from behind. His voice was neither high nor low in pitch, but did sound as though it was not often used. If Siana was to turn around, she would see a tall and dark looking figure. Wreathed in a black cloak and a bronze colored mask, the only clue about this person was their voice. Obviously male, this man had no bag slung over his shoulder, as most adventured did. Instead he held only a very old-looking book, clutched in his hand and pressed against his chest.

"I am Adamar. I will be accompanying you into the Fog." He reached forward with his empty hand. Poking out from the long robes, both his hands and arms were tightly garbed in black cloth.

The message Kismet had received a few weeks earlier had been vague to say the least, one word only 'Come' followed by the guild hall address. She'd been halfway across the continent at the time but mysteries had always intrigued her and so she'd followed the direction and come. Now she found herself in a strange library surrounded by all manner of miscreants, and no clue as to what was going on.

Her nerves twitched as she gazed at the newcomer, his black cloak flowing around his strangely as he stepped up to the speaker. There was something about him which seemed out of place, although she couldn't quite understand why. She decided to hold back for a moment, keeping herself lost in the small crowd as she observed events transpire. Her father had always said it was best to let the brave man jump in the quicksand first, that way you could always use him as a stepping stone.

Siana looked at the man who walked up behind her. He seemed unusual, but that wasn't anything special. Maybe he was one of those people who spent so much time studying that they let their social skills fall to the wayside. Or maybe his culture was just very different than the one from this area. That would explain the robes, as noone in this area dressed head to toe in robes. Or he could just be from another world and not have assimilated into the local culture yet.

"Of course," she said, "Please have a seat and we can get started." When everyone was seated, she began. "Hi, everyone, I'm Siana. I'm hear to gather up a group of people to venture into the Fog, through a series of caves and mines, and to a lake deep within the Fog. Now, I need to make sure that everyone here is the kind of person that should be coming along with me, so if you came here because you though I was attractive and you were hoping to woo me, then you might as well leave. I'm married, and my husband lives at the village on the lake. He the most powerful battlemage I've ever met." Many of the people stood up and left. When they had gone, she continued. "Now, if you've come hoping to make money, I've got bad news for you. I've barely got enough money to live on myself, and the village doesn't have much either, as it can't trade with others except when a portal opens up close enough to the village that they can stabilize it long enough to trade through it. The best you'll get are some well-made clothes or some tasty foodstuffs." All but a few stood up and left. Good, now that I've gotten rid of the 95% that I know are here for the wrong reason, I'll see if the remaining people are here for the right reason. "Anyone who's left, please tell us a little about yourself. Your name, skills and powers, and most importantly why you want to go on this quest." Hopefully she could learn enough about the others to decide if they were the kind of person she wanted to come with her.

A portal in the Fog stable enough to support a village? There must be more to it than that. Kis thought. In her experience portals were usually random events, popping up all over but rarely in the same place for long. If the village had found some way of opening portals themselves, or at least attracting forming portals closer to themselves, then it was certainly something worth investigating.

And then there was the matter of the battlemage. Even if his wife was exaggerating his powers, as spouses were wont to do, then a magic user so close to the strange phenomena couldn't be a coincidence. Whatever was happening out in the Fog Kis knew she had to be one of the people to investigate. Stepping up towards the woman Kis coughed politely and turned to look around the room with a warm, friendly smile.

"Hi everybody, most of you already know me, but for those who don't I'm Kismet," Taking a quick bow Kis took a moment to wave to a few of the adventurers she recognised, sharing a familiar greeting with them to renew old acquaintances. When she was done she turned back to the woman leading the meeting and with earnest eyes continued with her introduction. "You could call me a greeter of sorts. I hunt the wastes for newcomers to the realm and help to acclimatise them to our ways and customs." She quickly skipped over the other part of her duties, the part where she made sure the dangerous and unstable visitors never had a chance to 'acclimatise', if the woman needed to know about that, Kis would inform her at a more opportune time.

"I'm a decent tracker and scout, and know enough about the herbs of the wilds to be a fair healer in a pinch. If you'll have me along I'd be happy to accompany you on your journey." With that Kis quickly took a seat in the front row of the chamber, making herself a part of the crowd as she turned and shared some good humoured words with an old friend seated not far away.

Following Kimset's introduction, Adamar slowly rose from one of the front-row seats. With an eerie aura about him, he strode to where Kimset had stood. Just as before, he clutched his book close to him, and his entirety was covered from head to toe with a hooded robe, mask, leather armor and black wrappings that looked similar to gauze. His dry voice cracked into existence from behind the bronze mask once again.

"My name is Adamar. My knowledge of the supernatural and my skills with magic will be necessary if you wish to survive in the Fog. My reasons for being here are my own, and I care not for any of your motives."

Without waiting for any response, Adamar returned to his seat. Those sitting near him very obviously had faces of concern or suspicion, but none rose their voice against him.

'Well, he's a cheery one,' Kis thought to herself, eyeing the magic-user cautiously while keeping up her own cherry act with her band of admirers. 'Hopefully we won't need to find out if his skills rival his ego.'

Siana listened to the various people answer her questions. Most of them were just Adventurers, generally looking to increase their skills or renown, so the money didn't matter. That was fine. If a teenage squire wanted to perfect his sword technique in the Fog or underground, or an unknown mage wanted to become famous enough to be offered membership in a guild, or be rewarded private contracts, she didn't care. They would need plenty of backup if they came across a group of monsters. She also had a vague feeling like they would be needed at the village.

The two that stood out the most, though, were the cloaked man, by his own description a powerful, yet mysterious mage, and a woman with talent in finding portals. While the first person would definitely be worth keeping around in case they ran into any enemies, the second will mostly come in handy once they got to the village. Something about portals, but the memory was still difficult to access.

"Ok, then, you're all accepted. I'll lead you to the cave I used to come here. It's about fifty meters into the fog, about three kilometers north of the city. There's a farm near there run by an old couple name "Lisie". We'll meet up beside their well. If you decide you don't want to come with us, just don't come. We'll leave from there at sunrise tomorrow. Thank you for coming." With that she got up and left, heading north once she was outside. She'd tell them what she really knew tonight around the camp fire. She didn't want them to know the truth now because they would tell the others that left. Adventurers tended to stick together.

---

That night, as the sun set, she gathered everyone around the large fire she had built. They were far enough from the Fog that it wouldn't draw any Monsters to them, though bandits and wolves were both distinct possibilities. "Thank you all for showing up." she said, addressing the crowd. "Now that you're here, I need to tell you a few things. First, I'm not married, or at least I'm not sure if I am. I was found naked by the fog by the couple that lives here. I didn't have anything on me, including a wedding ring, and the Fog erased my memory, so I don't remember much. I do have flashes sometimes, though, in my dreams. An old man and his family, dancing or doing some form of martial arts, stabilizing or creating a portal. A group of warriors taking on a group of monsters, though my mind focuses on one of them, a man who looks to be in his late twenties, hurling fire at the enemy. I know he's special to me, somehow, so he's the one I based my fictional husband on. I also remember coughing and stumbling, the sound of too many legs skittering across the ground behind me.

From my memories I've worked out which cave I exited. It's know as "Red Bird Goblin Cave" by the adventurers who mapped the edge of the fog because the Red Bird clan of Goblins lives in it. They won't be any trouble, though. We'll need to get to the bottom level, where the cave connects to an ancient mine. After that, we just need to make our way to the top. Any questions?"

Arya jerked awake. A high screeching filled her hearing, like the squeal of ice on metal, like the roaring wind of a hurricane. A spike was driving itself viciously into the back of her skull, an agony so great her vision blurred, as if her skull were expanding from the inside out. She heard a high, keening shriek of pain - her own - and attempted, in a panic, to gather her mental defences, fighting to keep from giving in to the whirlwind.
And just like that, the presence moved away.
She shivered.
Many hours later, she fell asleep again.

* * *

The next morning, Arya pulled a parcel out of her bedside drawer, and sat cross-legged on the floor. Out of the parcel, she pulled a small black book and charcoal, of the type used by students and scribes. Taking a deep breath, she chanted through a nursery rhyme, paying little attention to the words. With her eyes closed, she passed the charcoal along the paper. At first, the markings were nothing but loops and lines, but as time progressed, they resolved into shapes, and slowly bent into complex symbols.
Opening her eyes, she fell silent. Her eyes scanned the page with a scholar's eye. It had not been a deliberate attack, that much was certain. The presence had merely passed within her range while her defenses were down. She desperately hoped it had not noticed her, but it was impossible to say. There were no patterns of aggression, but several symbols were drawn with an odd slant. A lapse in concentration, or a clue? Tracing her finger along another circular symbol, her brow furrowed. It was one she didn't recognize. A name, perhaps? A place?
Sighing, she replaced the book and charcoal into her bag. Father Roe would have known what to make of it.

Adamar would have blended into the darkness outside the campfire if the light of the flames didn't reflect off his mask. He sat a bit away from the rest of the group, still in conversationally appropriate proximity, but far enough that none would see the contents of his now open book. He slowly turned a page every few minutes as the worn parchment bound in leather rested upon his lap. His head was angled down towards the pages, an onlooker would easily assume him to be reading through the slits in the mask. He made no indications of paying attention to Siana's life-story, but was softly murmuring to himself with seemingly unintelligible words as she described her memories and plans to the group.

The streets were practically deserted as Kis made her way through the town, nodding greetings to the few locals she passed. Even this late at night the light from the forge lit up the end of the street, promising warmth and safety for passersby.

Stepping through the door Kis waited for a pause in the blacksmith's hammering before calling out. "Hey Clem, how's business?"

The gruff giant turned, his scowling face filling with joy as he caught sight of his old friend. "Kismet, my dear. When did you get back into town?" Laying his hammer down he stepped up to the girl and wrapped his arms around her, lifting Kis off her feet and spinning her around.

"Okay, okay, clam down." Kis laughed, patting Clem's arms until he finally relaxed. "I'm just in town for the night, passing through on a job. Thought I'd drop in and check on that special order."

"You have good timing, finished the work on it yesterday." Clem said, moving over to a large chest set against the wall. Pulling the lid open he picked a package wrapped in rough leather from the pile of others. "Hope it's good enough for you," He said, handing it over to Kis.

Carefully up wrapping it Kis ran her hand down the freshly forged blades, each ten inches long. The inscribed cold steel seemed to frost over even in the heat of the forge, yet as her fingers touched them the metal seemed warm. "They're perfect."

As she stepped back out onto the street, tightening the straps across her chest and straightening the scabbards across her back, Kis set off for the town gate. She still had time to make it to the farm and rest up before dawn, and by the sounds of things she'd be needing a fresh head for the following day.

The stall was hot, bright with summer, the salty sea air filled with an unpleasant scent of fish and unwashed city streets. A reddish tint filtered through the cloth above, casting a light shade over the table. Beside Arya sat a portly wine-seller, who was calculating the market value of a particular vintage, and across from her sat an elderly Minnese man, his slanted eyes darting suspiciously over the wine-seller’s work. She could see a shining bead of sweat forming on his forehead, and she found herself wondering idly whether he would be too offended if she wiped it away.

“Tell him his request is ludicrous,” the wine-seller said.

“☬ ⁂♣♮ ⚜♦,” Arya said hesitantly. It is not possible. The price is too high.

Angry chattering in Minnese.

Arya turned back to her irate employer. “He says he won’t take any less. He wants you to stick…” She paused. “He wants to end the negotiation unless you accept his offer.”

The fat wine-seller struck the table in frustration. “Wonderful. Well, by the gods, I’ll take his damn deal, but don’t ask me to be happy about it.”

Arya repeated his acceptance. The Minnese trader’s scowl deepened, and he cursed, muttering about being cheated. They shook hands.

It was not out of the ordinary for negotiations to become tense, even around her. Managing the egos of wealthy men was part of the job description, and with such large fortunes at stake, emotions inevitably ran high. This, however, had been a particularly heated argument. The wine-seller didn’t want to tarnish his reputation by selling cheaper wines, but the Minnese trader was the only one to come through the region in a month, and if he didn’t buy his stores, he’d lose customers. He’d agreed to purchase his whole stock at a greatly inflated price, but the trader still wanted more. Minnese men were always particularly resistant to her brand of light persuasion. Stubborn bastard. He wouldn’t know a good deal if it smacked him in the nose.

After the negotiation was formalized, she left the stall, her work completed. The midday sun beat down like a physical weight, and the lazy humidity only made matters worse. Business was slow, and everyone shuffled from shade patch to shade, the wealthier ladies fanning themselves and the poorer ones splashing water on their faces. Work was torturously slow, and men carrying goods or negotiating trades were few, far between, and generally unhappy about it. The Emblem of Neutrality - a heavy white sash issued by the Guild, the symbol of her trade - rasped on her bare shoulder, and she found herself compulsively shifting it, as if trying to get out from under the weight.

Arya ducked into a pub near the center of town, the Old Red. Settling down in a dark corner, she extracted a small black notebook from her handbag, and absently ran her eyes over the symbols she had drawn before. It wasn’t as if she could do much without a Dictionary of Symbology, but the mystery still drew her eyes to the page.

Her reverie didn’t last long. A loud voice approached along the street, and the door banged open, revealing a fat man and a shorter, skinnier companion, both wearing Guild emblems. “- long and short of it, oh yes, it was a right scene. I don’t agree with the Guild renting out member facilities to hooligans. A good Deepwood wine!” He snapped. The barkeep raised an eyebrow, but made no complaint. “It’s no good,” he continued, sitting down heavily by the bar. “Next election, I’m going to vote for someone who’s dedicated to the integrity of our fine institution!”

“Indeed, indeed.”

“And why is this Kismet girl allowed such privilege? Tut tut. Another flagrant violation of well established traditions! Favoritism! I sense something underhanded.”

“Yes, yes. Must be, must be.”

The first man looked pleased at this. “See, you’re a good fellow.” A large tankard slid towards him on the bar, and, grasping it by the handle, he raised it in a gesture of respect to his companion. “Stick with the folk like us, the respectable tradesmen. You’ll go far.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt, none at all.” They clinked glasses, and drank deeply.

“I saw an odd fellow, wrapped from head to toe. Couldn't even see his face. Made my skin crawl.”

Arya’s eyes narrowed. She had heard stories that certain dark wizards couldn't uncover their skin, or they would burn. Could this be the presence she'd felt in the night?

“It seems they’re going off into the Fog tonight,” the thinner man said, raising his eyebrows.

“What do you mean, going off into the Fog?”

“I mean, the girl Siana is leading them off. That’s what the meeting was for.”

“By the gods, are you sure? Are they mad?”

The thin man shrugged. “Seems so. She claims to have found an inland lake, surrounded by paradise, or portals, or some such nonsense. I wasn’t listening too closely.”

“These are certainly strange times.”

“Indeed, indeed.”

They fell silent for a moment. Arya’s mind whirled. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? A mysterious figure suddenly appearing in a sleepy seaside Guild town, an impossible mission into the fog… Arya wondered whether there really was something underhanded going on. Black magic, she thought, dread creeping along her spine. Wonderful.

"Oh, there are Zombies around here, alright." she said, answering a guild member that said they didn't think a zombie had been seen around this area in years. Creepy stories were a tradition at the guild, to try and test the courage of the younger members. Siana had never participated in it before, but she thought it was a bit fun. "In fact the old man that owns this farm is a powerful Necromancer. When I stayed here after leaving the Fog I woke up one night, during a full moon and I saw him, raising a warrior that had died a week earlier. "Go, my minion." he said to it, "go into the fog and slay the monsters that live within it." The Fog doesn't effect the undead, you see, but many of the monster inside of it are drawn to the dark energies in the undead. So you'd better sleep lightly. Neither of the moons may be full tonight, but you might still awaken to find a rotting corpse stepping across you, making its way into the Fog."

Several of the younger members of the group started looking around, looking and listening for signs of the undead. "B-But he's not really going to create a zombie tonight, is he?" said a young man of about sixteen, his black irises huge from fright, and his skin an even paler shade of grey than the part imp's skin usually had.

Siana smiled and stared at him, just long enough to let his fright grow a bit before telling the truth. "No, he's not going to make a zombie tonight." she said, to the sound of several adventurers exhaling a sigh of relief. "He is a Necromancer, and was a member of the guild for over a decade, but the only things he ever raises is a skeletal dog when his grandkids come over, as they like to play fetch with it, and one or two skeletal horses for when he needs to plow or pull his cart to the market in the city. He's can only keep them animated for three or four hours anyway, so you won't see them wondering around after dark." The group shared a laugh and Siana excused herself to walk over to the cloaked figure sitting under a tree.

"So, are you hungry? Some of the richer adventurers chipped in and bought a pig from the farmer, and are roasting it now. They want to have a feast before setting off on a large mission." She looked the man over. "If you don't mind me saying so, you seem a bit distant, like you feel out of place. I know it's not my place to ask, but are you from another land or realm? I only ask because many people keep their old customs when they move or come through a portal, and no one here dresses in robes such as that."

"Your tales of necromancy are pathetic," he responded in a unimpressed tone. His gaze maintained his book as he spoke. "But if you must know, you needn't worry about feeding me. I do not eat, sleep, or even breathe. And my clothing is solely for protection of identity..." his voice trailed off as his head turned upward to face Siana. The dim glow of the campfire gave his mask a rusted color when combined with its bronze. It was perfectly featureless, save for two small slits for seeing. With a straight tone he asked "Wouldn't want the locals to know that I'm undead, would they? Though I suppose such creatures are more welcome here than in my home plane?"

As she wandered up the path Kis caught the smell of burning flesh on the wind. Immediately she was on her guard, darting off between the trees as she slid her new blades out of their sheaths. Carefully she made her way around the farm's perimeter, preparing herself for the worst until finally she caught sight of the bonfire.

A large pig was slowly being roasted on a spit as two of the younger adventurers turned it over in the flames. Nearby an older adventurer with a belly almost large enough to fit the pig in whole was pouring seasoned oils over the carcass, carefully basting every piece of the beast as its skin began to crackle and pop from the heat.

Relaxing Kis slipped her blades away before stepping out of the shadows. "Well met, friends," She called, waving over to the party members as she walked towards the fire. "That's a fine beast you have, do you mind if I share in your feast? I can trade you some of my own prizes to help sweeten the pot." As she spoke Kismet reached down and pulled two skinned rabbits from her pouch, their salted bodies preserved and fresh.

"But if you must know, you needn't worry about feeding me. I do not eat, sleep, or even breathe. And my clothing is solely for protection of identity...Wouldn't want the locals to know that I'm undead, would they? Though I suppose such creatures are more welcome here than in my home plane?"@Light

Siana was a bit surprised by the fact that he was undead. Sure, she'd heard that the local Guildmaster was a Vampire, but this man couldn't be one, as Vampires still need to drink blood. He couldn't be an autonomous zombie either, as they still needed to eat, in some cases raw flesh, in order to prevent decay and to heal. He couldn't be a mummy either, as they needed to absorb the flesh of the living or recently dead for strength. Or course all of this was based on what she'd heard from stories told at the guild, but she only knew of one type of undead that could survive on energy alone. "Does that mean you're a Lich? I never thought I'd meet one. Don't worry, your secrets safe with me. I'm not sure if these people could handle the truth. I think they collected the life-energy from the animal when they killed it, I could probably get that for you if you want it." She knew she was yammering, but she was exited. It was quite rare to find someone skilled and talented enough to raise themselves. She wasn't sure if the Lich needed life energy to heal or not, but it didn't hurt to ask. "If they ask why, I could tell them you want to practice your enchanting, and need it to provide extra energy for the spell. I'm sure they wouldn't mind."

Adamar nodded to answer her question of creature type. "As I said, I need no sustenance. In the rare event that I am incapacitated, the only utility needed is Negative Energy. The energies of life and death work in opposite on undead as they do on the living. The healing spells that are common among clerics and such channel Positive Energy. While this energy can mend the living, it is a weapon against those with unlife. Alternatively, the Negative Energy that corrupts the life of the living will rejuvenate the unlife of creatures like me. I can channel Negative Energy, so I will be fine."

He tilted his head and looked past Siana at the campers roasting their meal.

"That will not be needed. The life-force of a deceased creature is useless. The art of Necromancy fills the empty body like a vessel. Once the life-force is gone, it is replaced with unlife. I do not think your companions will be partial to having their dinner raised. Any monsters slain in the Fog will hopefully prove useful postmortem." At the conclusion of his lecture he looked back down at his book.

"And lastly, do not think of us as friends. Your troop has earned my assistance purely because your destinations lie in agreement with mine. I will ward your group against the Fog. But the monsters that reside inland are vicious and powerful. Any companions of yours who prove useless in life will be useful to me in death."

"Any companions of yours who prove useless in life will be useful to me in death."

"You'll need to get their permission to use their bodies like that, or you'll be breaking the law. In fact, you'll need to make sure you come by all of your supplies legally or people will consider you a thief. Monsters and people that attack you are fine though, assuming they were breaking the law by attacking you. They forfeited their body when..."

Before she could finish her explanation, a cry of "Bandits" came from the camp, the voice sounding like Mr. Lisie's. She ran over to where the old man and his wife were hiding behind a rock, the area lit by a dropped torch. "I don't get it," said the old man. "They haven't attacked us in years, since we agreed to let them cross and hunt on the land in the area. I saw one just before sunset by the beach, but I thought he was hunting seal like they do from time to time. Maybe they're here because of the group?"

Siana looked at his leg and saw that he was bleeding. "Stay still, and I'll heal you," she said, "you can't fight with a whole in your leg."

His wife put her greatsword away and armed her crossbow. "I'll keep them off of you" she said, then fired at one of the attackers.

As the cry went up Kis dropped her plate, glazing mournfully at the half-eaten rabbit leg which had been roasted to perfection only to be dropped in the dirt. Drawing her blades from their sheathes she stepped back out of the light of the campfire, closing her eyes tightly as she moved off between the trees, her other senses sharp in the woodlands.

After a couple of minutes her eyes snapped open, her night vision restored as she began to make her way around the farmlands, looking to out-flank the bandits. She could hear the sounds of fighting coming from the camp, but most of the noise seemed to be coming from the young, inexperienced members of the party who were screaming for orders and demanding to know what was happening in the darkness which surrounded them.

Shaking her head with derision Kis made use of the distraction to quickly scale one of the largest trees in her vicinity and glanced out across the ground, looking for signs of the intruders.