Orlo the Necromancer

Deep within the caverns beneath the streets of Dreams, within the filth and muck of the invading sewer system, an evil stirred. 

In the blackened depths, a small legion of skeletons roams the sewer system halls. From where the water and waste of Dreams originated came a clattering of bones held together by necromancy and the rusted, putrid weapons that remained gripped in their hands. Their reason for patrolling was unknown, their territory uncontested, but it all stemmed from a singular source, a skeleton with jewels for eyes.

Perhaps not too long ago, a senior magic advisor in Dream’s mayoral cabinet had been caught in a murder plot and was sentenced to death, their body thrown into the river. Or imagine further, where a party was sent into the sewers to deal with a razorfish infestation and some did not return. Or beyond the usual lifetime, where, at the foundation of Dream’s creation, a magician fell from the sky after a freak accident with his levitation spell, causing his body to crash deep into the earth. There were many explanations for the skeleton necromancer, but the creature couldn’t remember. All he knew was the sewers and the revenge on the surface dwellers for his undisclosed reasons. 

And of course, if anyone tried to enter its lair, it would not hold back for a second.

“Who disturbs the slumber of Orlo the Necro-.”

Dige’s axe smashed its body into a hundred pieces. This wasn’t the first time this has happened. It has been happening, in fact, for nine days straight.

“Dige, is it?” The lady at the service desk asked. “Can you explain your last name?”

The guild receptionist was working well beyond her pay grade. Many strange creatures have signed up for the adventurer’s guild before. The variance in language and writing hadn’t been an issue before, but she was out of her depths with an entire poem written across the pressed paper.

“It said ‘full name’ and my clan crest didn’t want to move to my hands. I don’t like this new form of writing. Too much lost in translation.”

She held her professional courtesy. “How about we redo this with a new sheet. Use a simplified last name.”

“But I wouldn’t want to-.”

“Please.”

Dige relented and redid the application, taking another ten minutes doing so. It took him some time to arrive here. He had some gist of the situation, with the demon generals fresh in his mind. While most of the protagonists journeyed south for some master, he’d figure out the lay of Dreams’ landscape and build himself up. Not in levels, though. That was still beyond him, and frankly, he didn’t care to find out. No, the answer was money. He needed money or else he’d starve.

“Now, I see your qualifications. Are you sure you’re not supposed to be going to the blacksmith unions?”

“Nope, I’m definitely supposed to be here." A twitch fluttered in his left eye. “When do I get a party?”

“We don’t provide those. You’d have to make those connections yourself.” She went over the application and pressed down a stamp. “Unfortunately, with your qualifications, we cannot accept you as an adventurer at this time. If you wish to gain qualifications, we have free quests for those not part of the guild to build experience with.”

The receptionist presented a paper with a list of city tasks that needed tending to, one that had many requests scratched off due to completion. The only ones left were for the sewers. Catching rats, unclogging drains. Work that sanitation workers would do if the conditions beneath the city weren’t so horrid, enough to kill a man on stench alone. It was the guild’s way of stopping applicants from reapplying. Wasted less paper.

“Unfortunately, that’s all we have. I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience.”

"Hmmm, I'm not sure how the structure works. I might mess things up," Dige contemplated. "Is there any work specifically asking for heroes?"

She gave him another once over. "If you are what you say, there is a new position requesting a hero to be Princess Cordelia's bodyguard."

"That sounds important! I'll take it!"

And so within a week, Dige became the greatest sewer dwarf Dreams had ever seen. Also, he was a fugitive. Why, one may ask? That was kept between him, the king, and the princess. It wasn't his fault, though. Dige swore by it. It was all a misunderstanding.

Nonetheless, Dream's infrastructure issues began to abate within a matter of days, as old and sealed pipes breathed fresh water again from the river, and the accumulated sludge and filth had been cleared out entirely. Newer tunnels were carved out by hand and shovel, creating new abodes and shelters constructed out of masonry, reaching farther toward the city's edge. And the rats, the rats that festered beneath the city like a second hive, they couldn’t be helped. Dige’s axe could only kill so many. They weren’t easy like the skeletons.

The skeletons were the bane of the sewers, powerful warriors that would be a match for any Dreams guardsman, but their power waned in the morning, at dawn, when the sun shone upon the necromancer through the sewer grates. When Dige left his stone room, they were slow, almost turtle-like monsters, barely using their power to keep their skeletal structure together. If he knew about this in advance, he would think twice about staying in the sewers at all, but by immense fortune, Dige was an early riser. He began his day precisely when they were at their weakest, and he figured out that if he smashed the purple skeleton first thing in the morning, he could go about his day skeleton-free. It was then also lucky that his room was next to the necromancer's.

On the eighteenth day, Dige started noticing the pattern.

“Who the hell is putting these things back together?” Dige asked himself, inspecting the skull. “They can be doing this job instead of me. Eh, I’ll just eat it.”

“Death ray!” The skull blasted Dige point-blank with a purple light. His eyes were blinded, and he could feel the skin burn red, but other than that, not much damage. Dige came out like a lobster. “Wait, why aren’t you dead?”

“Ugh, it talks. Into the ore realm you go.” 

“Wait, no-!”

After that, the skeletons no longer animated below Dreams, and after fiddling with the skull further, the dwarf found it to be a very useful rodent killer. Two days of exterminating later, and the sewers were in much better condition. Thousands of lives would be saved by this improved plumbing.

“Receptionist,” Dige pronounced. “I am-!”

“Take a bath, now.”

Dige found a bucket of water and soaked himself.

“Receptionist,” Dige pronounced again. “I have completed all of the quests on the extra list. May I have membership now? I would really appreciate a real bed.”

"Aren't you a wanted criminal now?"

"...Yes?"

“Those two have been waiting for you.” The receptionist brought over a couple of guards in ornate armor. “The mayor would like to speak to you about that.”

And thus, Dige was taken away to city hall, but not before a second bath.