Burrows & Badgers - Find the Paychest with new bands.

The cell was not the worst place he had ever been, it was light, airy, had a view over the riverside as the sun was setting and mist was gathering. After all, being a rat brought up in the sewers, this, with a bed, a blanket, food and quiet night without anyone snoring had been bliss!

"Tell us, Herr Kimlor, what have you been doing?" Three plump inquisitors had hardly squeezed into the cell to question him.

Himlor settled back on the bed, grinning. "Foul deeds, as you would expect. Some fool left a pay chest unguarded, it was the usual straight race to find it."

The first inquisitor, a plump squirrel, steepled his paws. "Who were you with necromancer? Tell us "

The rat grinned, revealing rather too many pointy teeth, "Oh, my apprentice, an owl thrall, and a few friends I've made..."

The second inquisitor, a rather over weight pug, snarled, "How are you controlling your undead pawns?"

"Strangely, I don't do most of the controlling, that would be my apprentice." 

The third Inquisitor, a pudgy rabbit, gloated, "What made you think you could take on Royalists, led by a badger, with a hard hitting hare, all armed to the teeth and archers to boot, that's a hard warband to beat."

"Well, maybe  I did not want to beat them, just find the treasure," the rat mused, "knowing I had the advantage of speed, and really good spotters in my mist ghasts. I would hate to play hide and seek with them!"

 

The second inquisitor leaned forwards, "What would your ghosts want with cash anyway?" 

"They are ghasts, not ghosts. Big difference, ghasts are malevolent." The Rat Necromancer sighed in frustration, like a teenager explaining the latest gadget to grandmother.

"You know, ghasts are really good at spotting things that are around them," Hemlor sat back, "it's like they can sense more through their dead eyes." He  contemplated the three overweight inquisitors, "So, I guess the vows of poverty don't count for your order then? "

"Shut it rat! The first inquisitor snapped. 

"Now, now, Brother Cuthbert, we won't get the information from him by telling him to be quiet." The second interjected

"Each of the ghosts was searching a different area, they cover a large area that way. Green works makes the team work."

"Pity the Royalists brought up their badger then. That's going to hurt, physically and in terms of pride!"

'Tetchy aren't you... '' Added Hemlor, "it's like you don't want to be doing The Mother Churches work, sure you wouldn't rather be finding the loot for yourselves?"

The Inquisitors looked angry at this suggestion, Hemlor was certainly standing on some tails today! 

"Yes, the Royalists were trying to fill me full of arrows, but that's life, or undeath." Hemlor shrugged.

"But my mouse ghast found the loot chest almost straight away," the Necromancer smoked warily, "but the Royalist hare was straight on him "

"The righteous will prevail!" The pug interrupted. 

"But the creatures with no right to be there were right there, ganging up to stop him " The rat laughed at them.

"Enough brought back bodies blocked got in the way, allowing my mouse to sneak away." The rat was enjoying baitibg the church giers. 

The squirrel tapped the table, *so, the Royalists were targeting you, despite a few good spells and dodges, the arrows were thrumming in "

"Ach,but not enough!" The rat spat, "they took me down " 

"With that, your ghasts started wandering off at random, your power was waning old rat " the pug laughed at him. 

" But enough power to get my mouse out the way with the chest," the rat giggled. "Power does not always rest in might, but in control!"

"Did that net me a pretty penny, you bet it did," the rat smirked 

"It won't help you when you dance from the gallows tree." The squirrel laughed evilly. 

Henlor was lead outside, towards a gallows in the middle of the prisions central, walled courtyard. Two rather nervvois gyards in mismatched unifirms looked on. A light mist was forming from the river, sptrading tenticles of cold across the floor, and the first stars could be seen overhead.

"Any last words, rat?" the Pug Witchhunter snarled as he forced Himlor up the steps onto the scaffold.

The rat smirked, "Yes, an oath of loyalty between a master and apprentice, even in the field of Necromancy, is for life."
"Bizzare!"

"And binding a mist ghast goes beyond life..."

With that, the mist forms coelested into solid shapes, and the three Witchhunters found themselves being swarmed by the forms of dead warriors.

"....and always have a lift home!" With which, a great shadow swooped over the yard, and an owl scooped Himlor up under his atms and lifted him over the walls. Behind, the two guards cowered in a corner as the strange mists receeded, leaving only empty robes and possessions. The final ghast approached, tossed three heavily laden bags at their feet, one green-black eye closed in an approcimation of a wink, and faded away into the mists.