Terror Povos: A bit of lighthearted assassination

Lithos was sleeping deeply, and dreaming of the Shattered Golem when something crossed the boundary of his Alarm spell and jerked him unwillingly awake. It was warm here in the deeper tunnels, and he was sleeping on top of his bedroll, so when he snapped upright he came all the way to his feet. 

There was ghoul creeping up on him. 

It hesitated for a bare second, facing him; then he saw it lower its body and prepare to charge. He reacted by reflex, the words and gestures automatic, and a fiery orange ray leapt from his extended hand to the center of its chest. He was lucky; the ray hit, and burned the thing badly enough that it collapsed before it could really lunge at him. 

For a moment he just stood there, shaking. Then he tossed a tiny ball of acid at it, and then another. It didn't move. With a sigh, he walked over to it, and started searching the body the way Whisper had taught him to. 

Even so, he almost missed it. It was pinned to the back of the cloth vest that was the ghoul's only clothing, and Lithos had been checking pockets and likely places for jewelry: ears, neck, fingers. It was a sheet of parchment, folded over and neatly pinned to the cloth. 

He unfolded it.

You gonna run out on me? it said. You gonna back outta our bargain after I went and made things right for you? You think you can just leave? Here. Have a ghoul. Consider it a test. You're still alive, you're readin this, then you passed. Keep your eyes open, though. This one? Won't be the last. You're still a shitty wizard, and you know it. I coulda made you great, kid. So let's see if you can fucking hang.

It wasn't signed, but then it didn't need to be. Vinnie. Lithos shook his head. The thrice-damned demilich was still going to have his fun. Well... fine. He would deal with that, or else he'd die and be condemned to serve as Vinnie's undead thrall. He could think of a couple of possible ways out, but he also knew that Vinnie had almost certainly anticipated them. 

"Ho there, friend," said a gruff voice, and Lithos turned to look. 

A dwarf was standing some thirty feet away, studying him curiously but keeping her distance.

"Yes?" Lithos answered cautiously, in the same dwarvish that the woman had used to address him. 

"Ah... is it safe to camp here?" She was one of the hill-dwarves, beardless, and doubtless too warm in her armor, for all that it was leather covered in metal spikes. "We're a small caravan, and ill-prepared to fend off a swarm of undead."

Lithos looked at the fallen ghoul and shook his head. "You'll be safe enough," he said. "This was a gift from an old friend, and directed at me."

"Some gift," she said. "I thought I was going to watch it murder you, but you took it down neatly. If it's not too rude to ask, what's a goblin doing this far into Silverkeep?"

The lie sprang fully-formed into his head. "I'm not a goblin," he said. "I'm a dwarf. I just woke up this way one morning. Wild magic, cursed ground, I'm not sure."

She blinked slowly. Then, "Miscast spell?" she asked. 

"...Possibly," he admitted. 

"You have a name, dwarf?" 

"Granite Forgefire." He hesitated, then said: "Don't ask. My parents had very particular ideas. I go by Grant."

The dwarf nodded. "All right, Grant. I'm Darkwater Underspring. Do you mind if we camp with you?" 

Lithos thought about that. He didn't think Vinnie would attack him again any time soon; the demilich was immortal and would want to draw out the suspense. So it was probably safe for them, and wouldn't make much difference to him. "Not at all," he said.