The necromancer laid dead at Welf’s feet. Thick black blood oozed from its wounds. Welf turned to his party, a wolfish grin across his face. The rest of his party looked exhausted and battered, but small smiles crept across their faces as well.
“We finally did it.” Azer’s voice sounded dumbfounded. “All the minions, all the little quests and we finally killed that necromancer!” His wizards hat was bloody and askew.
“No thanks to you, cowering in the corner like a pansy,” Griss growled. He stood up from where he had been blasted to the floor and picked up his bloody daggers.
“Hey! I ran out of spells! I was using cantrips every round! This is what happens when you decide not to do a long rest before taking on the big boss,” Azer’s voice squeaked indignantly.
“Really you two? You knew there was a time crunch before he summoned his patron to the realm. We had to act. Stop bickering,” Lillian said. Her armour still glowed with faint holy light, even in a dungeon this dark and deep. “Besides, now that this is all done, I’m sure we can go take some time off and find something to spend the reward we get from the king, as well as whatever treasure we find down here.”
“Bad things! Friends!” Welf shouted, pointing at the piles of bones laying around the party. They were reanimating, rising up into larger forms than they had been previously. Within seconds, flesh and muscle was creeping over the bones. Before the party could reacted, the mass of skeletal defenders the necromancer had assembled had reanimated into five owlbears.
“Seriously Frank?” Lillian groaned.
“C’mon Frank, I gotta head home soon. You can’t just extend the fight because you thought it was too easy,” Azer said. “Let’s just call it.”
“Yeah I’m out,” Griss agreed. “I have a chem paper due monday that I haven’t started.”
The owlbears advanced. The party did nothing.
“See you Frank! Thanks for the great night, can’t wait to see what you have planned next week!” Welf’s voice was faint.
The owlbears leapt on the party, feasting on their flesh. There was no retaliation from the four heroes. They were frozen in place by some greater magic. As the pain and terror became too much, a tear rolled down Lillian’s cheek. Why did her god have to forsake her now? Why would she let such a terrible thing happen to them?
“Fine, they can leave. These can be waiting for them next week.” An unknown voice echoed through the room. “But they’ll start at disadvantage.”
In a blink, everything had rewound. The owlbears were mere feet away from the party, mouths open in undead hunger. Lillian stood, frozen in place, still unable to move. In the corner of her eyes she could see Welf straining against the force that held them in place. How long would this stasis last?
The torchlight dimmed and then went out a few hours later. In complete darkness, Lillian could see nothing. Hear nothing. Feel nothing.
In nothingness she waited.