The vampire roared as he charged at Nanoc. The gnome was only saved by his fire elemental, which jumped onto the vampire’s head and blinded him with flames. Nanoc ran as fast as his little legs could carry him, dodging ghouls and accountants until he found Dren. The field scholar was in an island of relative calm beneath a glowing dome of magical light that repulsed the ghouls. Nanoc jumped into it, breathing hard.

  “This hair isn’t working!” Nanoc shouted out. “What am I doing wrong?”

  “Do you know, godly artifacts must be activated in the appropriate way,” Dren suggested. “It must be used according to Death’s nature or purpose.”

  “What else was Death the god of again?” Nanoc shouted.

  “Do you know, the god of naps?”

  “I don’t think a nap is going to kill him! I—"

  Then the vampire was there again, brushing burnt eyebrows from his face. He hit Dren’s magical dome, which exploded into light. Nanoc and Dren raced off, pursued by ghouls.

  “Do you know, this isn’t going very well!” Dren warned as a ghoul tackled him to the floor. “Not very well at argh! He bit me!”

  Dren was right, as always. GLUP! vomited a wave of brown water over Dren, washing the ghouls away, but there were more of the monsters, always more. The beast of bones had used the distraction to wrap itself around GLUP!’s thick neck, strangling the giant toad. GLUP! roared and screamed as ghouls climbed up his massive body.

  “What else is Death god of?” Nanoc demanded, helping Dren up.

  “The god of fading light?”

  Nanoc glanced at the vampire. They could see in the dark, right?

  “No, not that,” he decided. “It must be something else! Think, Dren! I need to know this! I—"

  It was too late. A pair of particularly hideous ghouls had grabbed Dren. Rotcel was nowhere to be seen. GLUP! lay on his side, motionless and covered in ghouls. The vampire had returned to his throne and sat laughing and invulnerable.

  Nanoc stood alone. A ring of ghouls closed in on him.

  “Do you know,” Nanoc said slowly, “I’m starting to think that we might not actually win this one. Maybe.”

  It was not in Nanoc’s nature to give up – he was defiant down to the valves of his tiny gnomish heart - but even he felt a little defeated.

  His fire elemental leaped onto his hand, giving him a flaming slap. It raised hissed at him, then pointed at the sky. And Nanoc, who had never prayed before, knew just what to do. He knelt, middle finger to the sky.

  “Give me a sign,” he prayed to Chaos. “Just a little sign that everything is going to be—"

  There was a crunch and a smash from above, and part of the cavern roof fell inwards, raining down stone and mortar, then ropes. A mob of screaming gnomes slid down the ropes. The gnomes had tasted the illicit power of smashing things up and wanted more, more, more! They were no longer just clerks and clockmakers, no longer servants, no longer content to be told how to live. They were warriors and rebels, wreckers, arsonists and thieves.

  They had been infected with Chaos, and they loved it.

  Nanoc’s fire elemental lit up in glee. It bounced from gnome to gnome, spreading flames across their pitchforks and hammers until the whole mob was lit by magical fire. The gnomes poured over GLUP!’s fallen body, pulling ghouls off the massive toad. The village veterinarian climbed onto his body and poured potions into his gaping mouth, muttering spells and chants as she did so.

  GLUP! bounced to his feet, his massive eyes boggling in wonder. He crushed a ghoul underfoot and turned towards the pile of enchanted bones that had once been Mary’s possessed lamb.

  “GLUP!”, GLUP! said, and his meaning was clear: it was time for round two. This time the toad would not be so easily beaten.

  Nanoc dodged through falling stones and rabid ghouls.

  “Fishing,” Dren shouted out from somewhere in the darkness, pleased to finally remember. “Death is also the god of fishing! Nanoc! Fishing!”

  “How is that—” Nanoc began, then tripped over a fellow gnome lying on the ground. He stopped to help her up. She was armed with a short spear and had a rope around her waist.

  “Can I borrow the spear and line?” Nanoc muttered, and she gave it up without protest.

  He tied the line to the spear and gave the makeshift fishing rod a few test flicks as he approached the vampire’s throne. He stopped to punch an accountant – this unnecessary, but he found it greatly satisfying – and glared at the nearest ghouls, which fled.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Intimidation check successful!

  Nanoc approached the vampire’s throne.

  “Hello again, gnome,” the vampire said, pretending to have just noticed Nanoc. “I see you rallied somewhat. Most admirable. My minions are not holding up too well, are they? Evil help is so hard to find these days. Now, in the past—"

  “Is that your vault of treasure back there?” Nanoc asked, gesturing to a pair of huge iron doors built into the wall behind the throne.”

  “Indeed it is, but don’t ask for a tour, gnome. Nor can you break in. The vault door is beyond mortal understanding, for it was—"

  “It’s open,” Nanoc said, pointing with his spear.

  “What? Impossible! Is this some trick?”

  The vampire turned to see Rotcel ‘Loc sitting at the vault door with her ear on against the metal and her hand against the lock. Gears spun and clanked, dials squealed, and the heavy vault doors groaned as they swung inwards to reveal treasure.

  So. Much. Treasure.

  “Dibs!” Rotcel shouted, disappearing into the vault.

  “That’s mine!” the vampire yelled, leaping forward. He was too late. The vault slammed shut behind Rotcel, locking the vampire out of his own treasury. The vampire slammed against it, scrabbling at the lock, but the door did not open.

  “You are trapped in there!” he screamed at Rotcel. “There is no escape—"

  “Do you know, I gave her a very nice teleport spell that’s just perfect for all sorts of occasions,” Dren explained walking up beside Nanoc. “All she has to do is draw a few symbols in the vault. It’s a bit derivative, perhaps, but I based it on a version of—”

  “Rotcel has a teleport spell,” Nanoc confirmed. “She’ll get out, and she’ll take everything you own with her. You, mister vampire, are broke.”

  The vampire staggered at the very thought of it.

  “My… mansion,” he said. “My…. antiques… oh gods, my money! All of of my precious money! No! No! This is impossible!”

  There was a flash of blue light under the vault doors as Rotcel teleported out, and then a second flash as she teleported back in. They heard her curse as metal crashed on the ground, and something smashed. Whatever she had broken sounded expensive. There were more flashes. Rotcel began to laugh. The vampire banged on the vault door uselessly.

  “I’m so poor that I’ll have to start paying taxes!” the vampire wailed.

  The thought alone would reduce a lesser vampire to dust far more effective than a wooden stake through the heart could ever be, but while the ancient vampire swayed and stumbled, he did not fall. He was tough.

  “It’s not so bad being broke,” Nanoc said. “They’re hiring in the village. They need someone to muck out the pigs. You’ll have to wear a uniform, of course. Blue overalls and one of the fancy red hats.”

  This was a low blow. On the other hand, Nanoc was a gnome, so all his blows were low. This one landed with force.

  “A… job?” the vampire hissed, aghast. “Working the lesser people? No, that is too much! I can still be rich! My accountants will find a loophole!” the vampire shouted defiantly.

  “What accountants?” Nanoc asked, gesturing to the empty spaces where the rows of coin-counters had been standing. “They took off as soon as they saw you had no money.”

  “Betrayal!” the vampire screamed. “How dare they?”

  Yet he was wrong; the accountants were entirely loyal, it was just that their loyalty was to the money. The money had left, and it was only natural that they would follow it, leaving behind nothing but soft words of farewell and bills for their time. The ghouls had fled, too, scared off by Nanoc and GLUP!

  “Betrayal,” the vampire said again, but this time he could only whisper the words.

  He was as weak as he would ever be, abandoned by his minions, distracted by the loss of his treasures. He no longer cared for Nanoc. He knelt, his mouth open and his jaw dropped. The perfect target. Nanoc hooked Death’s hair to the end of his makeshift fishing line and cast it out.

  New skill acquired: Deadly angling!

  Death has blessed you with the skill of deadly angling! No fish or open mouth is safe from your casting!

  Please note: Death has granted you this skill on the proviso you never go near him again.

  While Death would never much care for violence, he loved good angling. The hair flew with unnatural speed and accuracy to hit the vampire right in his open mouth. There was a flash of white light and a scream. The vampire burst into dramatic black flames that billowed up so high that they touched the roof. Ghostly skulls flew out, screaming, and the ground itself cracked beneath their feet.

  Then it was done. The flames faded, the skulls floated off. Dren wandered over to investigate what little was left of the dead vampire.

  “Damn,” he said mildly. “I didn’t get to ask him about the inscriptions. Hey, do you think we can bring him back for a few moments—”

  Nanoc kicked the ashes, scattering them before Dren got any ideas. He walked over to the vault door and knocked on the metal.

  “It’s me,” he called. “Open up!”

  The door swung open and Rotcel popped her head out.“There’s nothing in here,” she said at once. “It was totally empty. If the vampire claims otherwise, he’s a total liar, and—”

  Nanoc grabbed the door and forced it all the way open. A wave of gold coins spilled out of the vault onto the cavern floor.

  “I was going to share,” Rotcel lied at once. “I really was, you know, I just—”

  “The vampire’s dead,” Nanoc said. “You saved us with that distraction.”

  “Distraction?” Rotcel said blankly. “What distraction?”

  “The business with the vault?”

  “Oh… yeah. A distraction. Of course. To help you. My friends. Of course.”

  Nanoc reached down and picked up a single golden coin, considered it, then threw it back into the vault. A barbarian didn’t need money. Not when the beer and pie were free, anyway.

  “All this fighting made me hungry,” he said at last. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They’d won. Evil had been defeated, and a great peace descended over the vaults. The mob of rebellious gnomes cheered, throwing their flaming torches upwards like fireworks. Everything was wrecked. Ghouls lay on the ground, accountants and lesser vampires were fighting over scraps of paper, and GLUP! was trying to escape by head-butting his way out of the building.

  It was the most beautiful sight Nanoc had ever seen, spoilt only by the presence of the magical banana hovering over a fallen stone column, casting a yellow glow over the ruins. It was planning something, Nanoc knew. It wouldn’t let him rest for long before throwing him face-first into danger.

  Good.

  “Do you know,” Nanoc said to his friends. “I think I might be getting the hang of being a barbarian. Now where’s that lawyer? I want to have a word with him about the names of those berries.”