Gild expected the cave to be a dank and wet affair, judging by the ivy covered outside. Instead, he found a surprisingly warm and dry cave, not unlike some of the stone shaped homes he’d seen in his travels. The floor was even and lit by brightly burning torches held in sconces every twenty feet or so once they rounded a bend nearly immediately inside the entrance and out of sight of the sun's rays.

The air was thick, but without being stifling, as if it held a richness to it, rather than the claustrophobic feeling one could get from being inside a cave. The warm smell of earth permeated everything, giving it a cozy feel, one that was secure and ready to stand against anything.

The group wandered deeper into the cave, following it slowly at first and picking up speed the deeper they went in. The cave bent around to the right again, sloping downward slightly and heading deeper into the hillside. The floor was carved with small ridges, to help them keep their foothold and not slip on the gentle slope.

“Is it just me, or does this place seem almost, well, inviting?” Prisolyna whispered. Her voice still seemed almost loud though, the only other sounds were the crackling of the torches and the crunch of their boots on the rock below.

“It does seem strangely inviting,” Turwyn said, one hand on the handle of his axe strapped to his back. “And it makes me feel incredibly uncomfortable.”

“Let's hold off on cleaving things in two until we get a better idea where this is leading us and who, or what, is waiting for us at the other end,” Gild said.

The cave took them deeper and deeper, eventually leveling out and ending in a small green door with no handle or knob, just big enough to let Turwyn through if he stooped a bit. A blue skull with a broken femur beneath it adorned the door right in its center. Looking around, Gild saw the same symbol painted on the walls and ceiling of the cave.

Prisolyna knelt down and placed a hand on the door, running it along the edges and front. With an exasperated sigh, she stood back up and shook her head.

“There's nothing, no keyhole, hinges I can tell. Nothing to give me a foothold to get us in.”

The three stood, staring at the door, wondering what to do. There was obviously something behind the door, why else put it here, deep in a cave?

Turwyn shrugged, “Maybe try knocking?

Prisolyna and Gild turned to the paladin in unison. He gave them another shrug. “What? I don't see any other options for us to try? I mean, we could try ramming it down, or I could hack at it with my axe. But there isn't a lot of room to swing, and the cave isn't exactly telling us to stay out, so the owner of the door might not be entirely opposed to our visit.”

“Plus,” he pointed to the imp, “Tik said the wards were there to warn someone people were entering. He didn't mention anything about wards keeping people out. Right?”

Tik nodded, “That's right. It was just spells to let someone know they had visitors, nothing to even dissuade someone from trying to enter.”

“But that doesn't mean anything,” Gild said. “We are dealing with a necromancer here. We don't know what their goals are. They could want us to wander in here so they could kill us and use our bodies for their experiments.”

“What do you propose then?” Turwyn asked. It was a simple question, one presented with curiosity and no malice behind it. Gild found he had no answer. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but couldn't think of an alternative. He was not going to give up their best lead at this point. They’d been through so much worse already.

Finally, he sighed. “Lets try knocking. You're right Turwyn, I can't think of anything else to do and the person on the other side of this door has done nothing to show they mean us any ill intent.”

The paladin nodded and stepped up to the door. He raised his fist and brought it down in three giant knocks, the sound echoing around the walls and back out behind them. Nothing happened. They stood around the door, glancing at one another. Turwyn finally raised his fist to knock again when a small opening slid open in the middle of the door and a pair of yellow eyes looked out.

“Who are you?” a voice behind the door said. Gild couldn't place if it was a man or woman, let alone a human, elf, or gnome. Probably not a gnome, unless the eyes were standing on a stool on the other side of the door.

Turwyn and Prisolyna both looked down to Gild, eyebrows raised. He cleared his throat and the eyes swung down to meet him, unblinking.

“We are three travelers here to meet the, ah, necromancer who we were told resides here. “ He cursed silently. That was the worst way to introduce themselves. He wouldn't blame the eyes if they slammed shut their little window and told them to bug off.

“What do you want with the necromancer who lives here?”

“We just have a couple of questions, nothing more. We need some information and then we will be on our way.”

The eyes flicked up towards Tik. “Who's the warlock?”

Gild cursed again to himself. He should've left the imp outside or had him phase into his own plane. Though, this could prove to be to his advantage. Warlocks and necromancers were both not exactly looked on highly in most circles of civilization. Perhaps it could be a common point they share?

“That would be me. This is my imp, Tikpuk,” he waved toward Tik who remained floating near the star elf.

“You’re an odd group,” the eyes said. “A beast of a man, a warlock, and a star elf. What kind of information could you be looking for from a necromancer? I haven't done anything to anyone and generally keep to myself.”

“We are looking for someone or something named Linith,” Gild said.

The eyes blinked for the first time in their entire conversation. They landed on Gild and blinked again. A spasm of emotions seemed to cross them. Fear maybe? As he watched it looked more like exhaustion. The little window slid shut.

“Did you scare them off?” Turwyn whispered. Gild opened his mouth to tell him he had no clue when a soft click echoed and the door swung inward. On the other side of the door was a woman of medium height, with the same startlingly yellow eyes. She had a small frown beneath a crown of frizzy brown hair streaked with lines of grey.

“Come in, I'm not so rude as to leave some guests out on the porch,” she said, waving them in. She turned and stepped deeper into the cave, rounding a corner.

“This is a porch?” Gild mumbled and raised an eyebrow. Turwyn went through the door first, stooping a little to make sure he fit, and Gild followed. Prisolyna brought up the rear with Tik fluttering by her.

They turned the corner and found a well furnished living room, complete with a table surrounded by two couches and a few chairs. A fire burned in a hole in the rock wall that the furniture had been arrayed in a semi circle around. The necromancer was sitting in the chair nearest to the fire, blazing nearly behind her, and gestured for them to continue in.

“Sit where you’d like. Care for any drinks or refreshments?”

The group shook their heads as they settled in, Gild taking a chair across from the necromancer and the elf and paladin sitting on a couch to his right. The necromancer shrugged as they sat.

“Suit yourself,” she poured some amber liquid from a porcelain carafe on the table into a mug. Three other mugs sat nearby, unused.

“Did you know we were coming?” Gild asked, pointing to the mugs.

“Of course I did,” she scoffed. “You set off the cantrips the moment you got near the cave.”

Gild glared at Tik. The imp just shrugged, “I did what I could.”

“That was very clever of you, little imp, but my wards and cantrips won't be undone by some Bit demon. There are some out there you wouldn't even be able to sense.” She chuckled to herself. “I’m willing to bet even your Emperor would have trouble finding some of my wards and spells.”

“I promise it's not poisoned,” she gestured to the cups. Slowly, Turwyn reached for one and poured from the carafe. He gave it a sniff and nodded, taking a small sip.

“Eh?” the woman raised her eyebrows.

“An excellent brandy, though I’m a bit unfamiliar with some of the underlying flavors I’m tasting. It seems a bit more fresh and fruit-like than I am used to.”

“I’ve blended it with a local wine, it helps take some of the edge off.”

Gild glanced at Prisolyna and they both took a mug and poured some liquor for themselves. Gild took a sip and was pleasantly surprised. It tasted like a rich brandy with undertones of a wine, and without the burn so often found accompanying any of the hard liquors.

“Thank you,” he said, setting the cup down.

“My pleasure,” she nodded, taking another sip. As she sipped she gave a small start, “My goodness, where are my manners? My name is Icnathia.”

“Gild,” the gnome said.

“Turwyn.”

“Prisolyna.”

Icnathia’s eyes glittered when the elf spoke. “So you were the one that provided some of the bodies I needed. That was what, a couple of years ago now? How is your life going now, still doing jobs for Gerard?”

“Uh, not exactly,” Prisolyna shifted uncomfortably.

“I know you’ve talked to him recently, as he is the only one who would've told you how to find me.” She took another sip. “And since he was so fundamental in getting me set up with a new way to get bodies, I will trust his decision to send you to me.”

“What do you do to get bodies?” Turwyn asked, his brows furrowing slightly. Gild took another drink. It was a delicious drink and he’d rather like to finish it before the paladin went all law and order on them and got them thrown out of the necromancers home, or worse, killed and reanimated for her pleasure.

“I have a man who sends random people my way, then I invite them in, feed them a drink laced with poison that I’ve grown an immunity to,” Icnathia cackled. Gild stomach turned and Prisolyna stopped her sip halfway through, eyes growing wide.

“I jest, my goodness,” Icnathia laughed again. “I have a person in the morgue who lets bodies that no one comes to claim slip to me. Instead of finding a place to bury it or cremating it, she sends them my way. The town saves a bit of money and I get what I need, everybody wins.”

“Heh,” Prisolyna laughed softly, setting her cup down. Gild’s stomach was still turning over. Was that burning feeling poison? He took a breath to steady his nerves. Turwyn met the necromancer's gaze and took a long, even draught of his drink, before setting it down.

“Enough joking,” Icnathia said, still laughing to herself softly. “You were here for information on a particular individual.”

“Linith,” Gild said. Icnathia flinched slightly at the name.

“Yes, her. I have to ask why you are looking for this woman.”

“She had something of mine. Or at least, she knows where it is. That is all I care to say about the subject.”

“Then forget it.”

“What?”

“Forget whatever she has,” Icnathia said solemnly. It is not worth your life, and whatever she does with your unlife beyond. Linith is the single most cruel and vicious necromancer I have ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“Forgetting about it is not an option,” Gild said. Turwyn and Prisolyna both nodded softly.

The woman sighed, leaning back in her chair. She eyed the three of them, the fire behind her throwing shadows across her face and etching the early lines and wrinkles into canyons, giving her the appearance she was much, much older than she looked. Gild narrowed his eyes, she did look old, nearly hundreds of years old.

She leaned forward and the shadows were gone, leaving the frizzy haired woman again. “Linith is utterly about power, so I hope it is not an artifact of hers you are trying to get to gain power yourself.”

“No,” Gild said softly. “Nothing like that.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before continuing. “Linith finds power in killing her enemies, taking a part of their life to enhance herself, and using the rest to create behemoths and vile undead creatures. Your broken body will be her personal slave, while a small part of you lives inside her, watching what she does to your own body and those who you love.”

“Is that something you are all willing to risk happening to you, something you will be able to handle?” She eyed them all, one by one.

“I have already lost everything, and this is my only way of possibly getting it back,” Gild said quietly.

“I have nothing left to lose and nothing to return to,” Prisolyna said.

“I am the same. I lost everything already and am in a spiral of self loathing trying to get it back,” Turwyn added.

“I’m not sure if this fatalistic attitude from each of you is a good thing or a bad one. Still, if you are all truly bent on seeing yourselves killed by Linith, I will let you know where she is.”

“We thank you greatly, Icnathia,” Gild said. “Would it be impolite of me to ask how you know Linth?”

“No, that's a valid question,” she said. “I actually tutored under her for awhile. I went to learn from the great necromancer, but discovered the monster she truly is. I was able to flee with my life, but have ended up having to hide in this cave for fear of discovery and perform my own magical experiments and tests in secret.”

“You hide in a cave because of Linith?” Turwyn asked. He finished his drink and set the mug down on the table. “Not because of the general feeling of necromancy and the many, many laws forbidding it, or at least restricting it heavily?”

Icnathia smiled at him. “You must be a cleric or paladin of some kind. I don't sense an aura about you from the Seraphim, but you have the standing and adherence to the letter of the law, but not the spirit, surrounding you. You are correct, I would be at least a little in hiding due to society's views of necromancy, but not to the degree I am now. I must warn you again. Linith is a terrible monster, I implore you to not seek her out.”

“We have too, there are no questions about it. She had an item, or information for said item, I desperately need,” Gild answered.

Icnathia shrugged. “At least I can sleep tonight telling myself I tried to talk you three out of this. Very well, Linith makes her camp deep in the Fryst Mountains to the south. Here, let me show you.”

She reached back and pulled a scroll off the bookshelf behind her. Laying it out, she used the mostly empty mugs to keep the corners from rolling back up. She jabbed at the bottom of the map with a bony finger.

“Here, this is a valley about thirty miles into the mountain range. You will find her here, likely with a small army of minions and raised bodies to do her bidding.”

“Is there any way to get to her without going through that said army?” Prisolyna asked, frowning at the map.

“No idea. You asked me where she is, that's all I know. I would try to dissuade you from this suicidal fools errand again, but it seems it would just fall on deaf ears.”

“We can figure that out once we get closer,” Gild said, studying the map. “First we need to decide how we are going to get there.”

“The easiest path is here, it's a pass that leads directly into the mountain. However, you can be sure she will have this pass heavily monitored.” Icnathia tapped a small section of the mountains that seemed less dense in the drawing.

“There is also a small path that winds up the mountain to the side of the pass. You could try this route, though it would take you over her valley and I couldn't tell you if you would be able to get down into it without simply jumping off a cliff.”

“Would it be alright if we took this map with us?” Gild asked. The necromancer nodded, taking her hands off the parchment. Gild grabbed it, tugging it from under the mugs, and rolled it up. Stowing it in his bag, he turned back to the necromancer.

“Thank you again for giving us this information. I have to ask, if we are captured by Linith, are you worried we will somehow let her know you led us directly to her?”

Icnathia smiled. “Not even in the slightest.”

“Why not?” Turwyn asked as Prisolyna regarded the woman with suspicious eyes. The necromancer didn't say anything, she just kept smiling.

“Well,” Gild said slowly, unsure about the weird grin she held. “If that's everything, I will thank you again and I think we will be on our way. The mountains are only a day or two south from here if we get started heading towards them now.”

“Of course,” Icnathia stood up, ushering them back towards her door. “Just remember, you don't have to do this. There is no cowardice in not going after this woman. She is powerful, far beyond anyone I know, and it will not end well for you.”

“Thanks for the many, many warnings, but we have to,” Gild said, stepping through the door.

“Then I wish you all the best of luck and if I see you again, hope it is within your natural bodies, within your own control.” With that, she shut the door behind them and they were left on her porch, the torches still burning brightly.

“That was strange,” Prisolyna muttered.

Turwyn nodded beside her, stroking his chin. “Very strange. Why wasn't she afraid we would lead Linith right back to her? If we are captured and brought back, I’m sure she could pry the information from us.”

“I think it's better if we don't worry about it at all,” Gild said, setting off back through the caves they had entered. “All we need is the soulstone, we don't need to actually fight this Linith woman. If we can find the stone and get out before she notices us, we will be fine.”

The exited the cave into bright sunshine and Gild found himself surprised it was still early in the day. Their trek through the cave felt like it had taken hours and their meeting with the necromancer even longer. Judging by the frowns and blinking from his companions, they must've felt the same too.

“Anyone else feel like that was a lot longer than it actually was?” Prisolyna asked, confirming Gild’s suspicions.

“I thought so too,” Turwyn added. “Our meeting with… uh..”

“Huh,” he said. “I can't seem to recall the necromancer's name.”

“That's easy,” Gild said, “His name was… huh.”

“It wasn't a him, it was a her,” the star elf countered. “And her name was… damn.”

“You silly mortals, “Tik said, laughing. “So forgetful and ridiculous. The necromancer was obviously a demon of indiscriminate gender, how else would they have been so well hidden?”

The three turned to Tik and started laughing.

“As if it was a demon,” Prisolyna said.

“And if it was, why wouldn't I have smote it down immediately?” Turwyn asked between laughs.

“I appreciate trying to alleviate our mood and help, buddy,” Gild said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“It was a demon,” Tik muttered as he flew ahead of them, making a point to turn his back on each person as he passed them.

The group bickered about who the necromancer they had just met really was, and found themselves unable to come to an agreement as they neared the town again.

“Well,” Gild said. “At least we know where to go and enough about Linith to get the soulstone.”

“Does this mean we have an actual plan?” Prisolyna asked.

Gild smiled.

“Would you care to share it with us?” Turwyn asked.

Gild’s smile grew broader.