26 Undead Drunk

"Here we are," Percy said. "A necromancer."

"That's not a necromancer!" said Cuthbert.

"Ok Mr. I'm-so-clever-I-can-read. What's it then?"

"It's a blacksmith. It says so up there. S-M-Y-T-H-E." He read the letters out one at a time.

"Smyth!" Percy hit is forehead with the heel of his hand. "That's the name of the fellow. Come on."

"I don't think it is," Cuthbert began, but the other zombie was already hopping in to the store. He followed, to find himself in a hot workshop. A stout figure of a dwarf was hammering something on an anvil. "See? Smith. Horseshoes, armor and all that. Come on."

"Wait a minute," said his friend. "Hey, shorty! A little service here?" Percy raised an arm and jumped forwards.

The dwarf stopped and eyed the undead warily. "What ya want zombie?"

"What's your name?" Asked Percy.

"Smythe. What's it to ya?"

Percy shot Cuthbert a look of triumph before addressing the store owner. "Master Necromancer, I've a task for you…"

Cuthbert rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall as Percy explained his need.

~ * ~

Dreth sighed contentedly, picking at his teeth. The meal was now no more than a bone on a plate. Various empty glasses testified to several more cocktail experiments, and he was feeling good about the whole expedition for the first time. Waving over at the goblin, he scanned the drinks menu for one he hadn't tried yet.

"I trust sir enjoyed the meal?"

"Very good. Besht thigh I've had in centuries. Now then, I don't beleef…sorry, believe I haff… have tried a Dragon Sour yet."

"I will bring one immediately sir."

"Make it a double."

"Of course sir." The waiter scribbled the latest order on the tab.

Dreth leaned back and rested his hands across his stomach. He felt a bump in his robe, and wondered what it was. Fishing around he drew out the black 'marble' that the little zombie had found in the Runebox. He smiled for a moment, remembering the Orc king's last moments, skewered on the end of his sword. Good times, good times.

He patted the blade. "You know shword, you're a good weapon. Did I ever tell you that?"

"You're drunk!" replied Darkblood, slightly muffled in his sheath.

"Nonono! Really, the besht sword I ever, ever had."

"Drunk!"

"I'm sorry sir, did you say something?"

Dreth looked up to see the goblin place a large glass in front of him. "Wha? No. Never mind." He smiled and lifted the blue colored drink to his mouth, taking a large swig. "Good shtuff. Good good. Meybe a bit shour, I mean sour."

The waiter looked at him for a second, but then turned and wandered off to serve another client.

Putting the glass down a moment, Dreth once more examined the black marble, rolling it between his fingers.

"Exusssse me." A dry voice hissed at him from nearby.

He looked around. A figure in a hooded robe was sat at the next table. The dark of the cowl hid any facial features, but two white points of light served as eyes. "Do I know you?" asked Dreth.

"My apologiesss for interrupting your meal. I am Lord Bone, necromancer. Guardian."

"Good ta meet you," replied Dreth jovially, raising his glass and taking another drink. "I recommend the cocktailsh here, they're really very good."

"Yesss, ssso I sssseeee. However, I wasss wondering if your gem issss for ssssale. Sssssuch an item would be ussseful to me."

Dreth glanced at his marble. "You mean thish?"

"Indeed."

"You know what it ish then?"

"But of courssse."

Dreth leaned forward, a little unsteadily, and smiled. "How about I buy you a drink and we have a little chat?"