Lich for Hire

The hag lay on the muck-choked floor, laughing herself nearly breathless—yet she could not break free from the spell. Only when the druids at last bound her with living vines did Ambrose finally stop channeling it.

Though she had only been controlled by the spell for a little while, it had wounded her badly. She coughed up blood and could not form coherent speech. Her body was a ruin.

The druids of the Goldenvine circle stood back, wary of the lich's power. They dared not step too close. Instead, they hauled Naomi aside and pressed her for an account of what had happened.

Naomi told them everything: how she'd met Ambrose in the tavern, how they'd struck a bargain, and how they'd come into the sewers to rescue their kin.

At first, the druids could hardly believe what she said. No true worshiper of Sylvanas would willingly consort with an undead creature. By Sylvanas' doctrine, they were to purify all undead they saw to restore natural balance to the world.

But Ambrose was exceedingly powerful. If they were to attack him, they would surely perish.

They conceded reluctantly that, since Ambrose had saved them, they would set doctrine aside this time.

That was how they convinced themselves, at least.

Van Jones, having accepted the uneasy truth that he had been saved by a lich, immediately began to scold Naomi.