Lucan and Nikka arrived at their destination. "Pig's Foot Inn" read the overhead sign. They pushed the door open and entered. The bell chimed pleasantly as they approached the bar. The first floor lobby was full of tables and chairs, clearly the dining area. The walls were bedecked with paintings and ornaments. In the corner, a grandfather clock just chimed five.
"Welcome to the Pig's Foot Inn!" The bartender greeted them warmly. "How may I help you?" He eyed Nikka and Lucan could almost see him drooling. "Would you like a room to…enjoy her companionship?"
"No, thanks." Lucan declined the offer.
"What if I throw in some special drinks?" The bartender pressed. "It will calm her sprits and…"
"Listen here." Nikka grabbed him by the collar and extended her claws with an audible "shing!" "We are here on business. If you have any funny thoughts, I'll make sure you dare never wash your face again!" She let go.
"Yes, yes, of course." The bartender adjusted his bow tie and cleared his throat. "Are you here looking for someone?"
"We are looking for room 404." Lucan said.
The bartender's face darkened. "You must be related to that man. He has a huge tab to pay."
"We are not paying any tabs today." Lucan motioned Nikka to stay calm. She could be out with her katanas any time now, and that would most certainly attract skeletons. "We are just here to see the guy."
"The stairs are on your left." The bartender pointed coldly to an luxurious flight of stairs.
The second floor was in stark contrast with the first. Instead of being a continued extravaganza of pictures and furnishings, it was unpainted. The floor boards creaked, and the walls seemed ready to topple over. Carefully, they climbed to the fourth floor. As they approached room 404 at the end of the hall, a foul stench of liquor and unwashed man invaded their nostrils. The door was ajar, and a faint snoring came out. They stepped into a room full of empty bottles. And among the litter, drool hanging out his mouth, sleeping dead as a doornail, was…
"Eddy?" Lucan burst out.
"Wh-What!" Eddy tumbled to the floor and bumped his head against a bottle. "I'll pay you soon, I swear!" He stood up, massaging the red lump on his head.
"You know this guy?" Nikka asked.
"Yeah, we were at the Basalt mines." Lucan said.
"Lucas! I mean, Lucan!" Eddy stumbled towards them, kicking away bottles. "You're alive! I thought you were killed!" He motioned to give Lucan a hug.
"Why does everyone keep saying that?!" Lucan ducked from his stench. "Is it really that surprising? I can take care of myself." He tripped over a bottle.
"Yeah, right." Nikka grabbed his arm to prevent him from falling.
"Hey if anyone should be surprised it's me." Lucan turned back to the drunkard. "I was told I was the only survivor. What happened to you, Eddy?"
"Well," Eddy scratched his head and took a swig from his empty bottle. Finding no liquor, he threw it onto the ground. "It's kinda a long story."
"I kinda passed out after I fell, and when I woke up, I searched for survivors as well as something to drink. I then went to report the incident to Felora, but must have taken a wrong turn and ended up in Azilton. I stayed there a while, got something to drink, and then defended the city against countless waves of undead with the help of a snowman army and…"
"Yeah, Eddy." Lucan broke his rambling, "That snowman bit did not happen."
"Really?" Eddy habitually raised his right hand and tipped his head backwards. "I could've sworn…"
"Anyway," he continued. "After a couple months, I wandered over here. Got a job shoveling poo at a nearby farm. It smelled weird, though, not like any poo I know."
He stopped to take another imaginary swig then continued. "And I've been here ever since."
"Are you willing to fight the Nether?" Nikka asked. Lucan noticed her extended claws.
"What? Oh, of course!" Eddy looked like he was in a dream. "Just tell me what to do."
"First, pay the tab." Lucan told him. "I'm sure if you don't soon that guy downstairs is gonna sell you by parts. Second, quit drinking. Third, stay in contact and wait for our signal."
"So, what's our next one?" Lucan asked as they walked out of the Inn. The bartender snuck a few glances at Nikka on their way out, but Lucan decided it's best not to tell her.
"The next on the list is…" Nikka pulled her hair behind her ear, "A new farm." She looked up. "It's on this side of the city too, a bit further out." They followed the road signs and soon arrived at a fenced gateway. On it was a zombie head, a white skull, and… a spider head?
They knocked on the farmhouse's door. A few moments later, a zombie, wearing an old butler's uniform, opened the door.
"His Excellency awaits you upstairs. It growled. Lucan waved his hand in front of his face, trying to waft away the putrid smell.
"Don't tell me…" Nikka mumbled as they mounted the stairs.
"Good evening, Lucan and Nikka." Xaria waved his Wither staff and the butler zombie bowed out of the room. "I assume the Shadow sent you?"
"Your Undead were pathetic during the battle!" Nikka roared.
"Yes, I'm truly sorry." Xaria said. "But you might have not noticed that Nether Undead are a lot stronger than overworld Undead. My troops were nearly wiped out that day. I had to start from scratch, gathering them from the surrounding forests afresh." He ran his fingers along his staff. "After about two months later, I finally had enough workforce to put together this farm."
"Alright," Nikka crossed her arms. "Anything you did besides this farm?"
"Dealing with Skorch, farming food to earn my freedom, giving food to former Feldons, what else." Xaria drawled. "Netherans don't take kindly to their former enemies, especially those whom their king had singled out to kill." He pointed to a drawing of an Ardoni on his wall. "My master, Xan Voltaris. He may be evil, but without him, I cannot be where I am today."
"Well, we are starting a resistance force again." Lucan said. "Will you help us? Again?"
"It is a must." Xaria answered. "I have yet to avenge my master, and I do prefer to sell most of my farm's produce instead of wasting it on a Netheran."
"Speaking of which," Xaria strode to the door. "Let me show you what I have accomplished and," he added, looking pointedly at Nikka, "this is what I promised I'll do after the war."
He led them out into the fields, and they were truly astonished by the sight. Among the golden wheat fields labored not men, but green zombies with glowing eyes. "This is the already the most productive farm in the Felora region." Proclaimed Xaria. "Of course, averaged according to land area." They moved to the pasture.
In a huge piece of grassland fenced together with a barn at one end, roamed cows and sheep. Spider jockeys, skeletons riding spiders, moved around the field, herding the cattle. On their backs, they also carried bows and arrows. "Here, we have the largest pack in Felora on any farm." Xaria explained. "The skeletons work without rest to ensure the welfare of my animals. The chickens are on the other side, in a smaller enclove."
"Ah, this is a building which no other farm has." They came to a small hut standing next to a huge upright tank. "Creepers go in, compost comes out. It has a unique smell, and is far more effective than traditional compost. I used to hire a guy to move all this into the fields, but he was so drunk that one day I found him asleep amongst my creepers. Could've gotten himself killed and all my work blown up. I fired him after that."
"Wow, Xaria." Nikka said as they returned to the front gates. "You have truly accomplished something great. I know that I will never trust a Necromancer, but I believe that in your heart, you are a great person, Xaria."
"Thank you." He bowed. "It is my honor to meet you, Lucan and Nikka. May our war efforts succeed as well."
No sooner had they left, Skorch barged into the farm, along with an army of wither skeletons. He matched straight for Xaria, who had his back to the door, writing in a book.
"The crop harvest is next month." He said coldly, dotting a full stop on the page. "I have nothing for you right now."
"Oh, I think you do." Skorch waved to his skeletons and they surrounded Xaria in his chair, The Netheran took his staff and admired it before his eyes. "So this is how you control the Undead. Interesting." He put the staff down beside him. "Now, start talking."
"About what?" Xaria sneered, "Have you come to learn my farming secrets?" He closed the book.
"About the Shadow." Skorch sat down on the table, towering over the man. "What do you know of him?"
"I know his name." Xaria said coldly. "His name is the Shadow. He only ever comes to me wearing a black and hooded cloak. I never saw his face, nor do I know where he lives."
Skorch rose up and walked to the stove. Picking up a pair of tongs, he placed it in the fire and brought it out red hot. "I've been following my prey for some time, and I've learned quite a bit. The Shadow is female, and it's not the little kitten with her human friend."
"Impossible." Xaria said, now slightly tremoring. "The voice is definitely that of a man."
"A spider has many eyes." Skorch brought the tongs to the man. "And a squid has many hands." Xaria remained silent.
"So tell me," Skorch whispered, "Who is this Shadow?" He held the red hot tip to Xaria's eye. "What kind of person would have such a wealth of information? Perhaps, a Chronicler?"
"There is only one Chronicler in Felora." Xaria said, "And it's a she."
"Very good." Skorch rose up and put the tongs back by the fireplace. "I will find her, and have her publicly executed. Then, you are next."