As night fell, the undead gathered, their rotted or non-existent noses smelling tasty prey. The smell of brains and dark mana began driving them into a frenzy and urging them to run toward the strange nest on the hill. One by one, and then in small groups, the normally slow creatures shambled to the point upon Barrow Hill where the enticing smell was coming from. If they noticed the largish human atop the tower, they paid it no heed. There was no smell of brains coming from that one.

Vern saw the advancing undead and wasted no time bringing down Smites upon their bony skulls. The magical lightning bolts pulverized the level 2 and 3 skeletal bunnies and exploded the zombies in a burst of superheated steam and cooked rotten meat. Laughing hysterically, he smote as fast as he could, rapidly depleting his power. He didn't pause when the stored mana in the rod was used up, and he started burning through his personal mana. He was panting and tired when that ran low, and decided it was time for a break and a snack. Placing the rod in its recharging receptacle, he grabbed sausages and cookies before drinking down two mana potions and a large bottle of apple wine.

Restored, somewhat, he looked over the edge to see what was going on below. The soldiers had relaxed and cheered as they saw their foes destroyed, but Corporal Thune had slapped helmets and yelled until he had them back in a square formation with shields raised. "Don't act like idiots. The guy upstairs is the artillery, and as soon as the artillery stops, those rabbits are going over the top and racing at us. And he won't get them all. You lower that shield, and you'll have a bony animal gnawing on your jugular. Stay ready, and stay alive."

His prediction proved true. Vern's mana was limited, and several undead had snuck close enough to race forward as fast as they could shamble. One recruit screamed as it jumped to the top of his shield, but the spearman behind him made short work of it. The undead were dangerous, but had little health. A couple of good hits took out the level two monsters. Sadly, some of the recruits had trouble keeping their formation and making their blows count. The first few minutes were hectic, and the reserves had to work hard to keep the rabbits out. Thune observed the soldiers who were handling the situation, and the ones who weren't, and rearranged his square to make sure none of the sides were weak. He had help as Vernon finished his snack and started blasting again.

The undead were coming in small packs now, and he aimed for the center, often getting two or three with one Smite. One pack in particular caught his eye. The shambling zombie in the center of the hopping horde was twice as big with longer fangs and claws, named Tendonslicer. Vern knew about bosses now, and he'd been promised extra desserts for each one he killed tonight. Smites rained down upon the Named boss, and as the rod ran out of power, all that was left was a large crater strewn with rabbit parts.

Finally learned how to Smite properly, did we? It's an essential skill for all would-be petty tyrants. And your audience is thrilled.

For slaying Tendonslicer, a Level 3 Named boss, you earn three Enhancement points plus a bonus two from your OP class perk.

Stomborn has reached Rank 3, giving you a discount of 20% on your Smite spell.

With the demise of the boss, the undead retreated back into the darkness. The soldiers killed off the last of the charging horde and took a deep breath. Thune pulled back the three with injuries so they could receive first aid and use one of the few healing potions they'd been given. The nervous recruits had seen that they could drive off the undead, and some of the soldiers were finding the rhythm to the battle. The undead were predictable: They either tried to hop over the shield wall, crawl between a gap in the shields, or race straight ahead and bounce off the wall. Keeping their wall intact and standing firm gave them openings to slash down on their foes while keeping them at bay.

Vern stood on the top of his tower, holding his rod as it recharged and yelling at the retreating horde. Shaking his fist, he screamed at them, daring them to come face him. Enjoying themselves immensely, the three visiting priests slapped their tails on the ground to signal their pleasure and discussed their plans in their own language.

"He rants! I had forgotten how much I missed the passionate ranting of Lesser-God-Emperor Uncavarn."

"And he smites! He has grown stronger. He has abandoned the tactic of fruit-throwing and embraced his power as a descendant of the heavenly gods."

"And did you see him climb to his tower? He grows stronger. Some days, he could barely walk to his food troughs."

"I sense Dammitbilly's clever hands in this. He has thrown the ultimate challenge at Uncavarn by claiming his position in the great pyramid of ACME."

"Dammitbilly is truly a master of challenge. He understands that he will only become stronger through difficulty. He surrounds himself with challengers. His Baroness is a dangerous weapon that could strike at any moment, and he goads Uncavarn, even to the point of making Uncavarn stronger."

"We must find out more about Dammitbilly's city. He does not have priests to advise him, but surely he cannot govern alone without skilled advisors and facilitators?"

"Never! The great pyramid of ACME is vast. I suspect that his advisors are hidden or in the godly realm. We must tread carefully."

"Oh, look! More of the swarming dead things come, let us watch and eat."

The earth churned, and more undead clawed to the surface, a steady stream of creatures pulled from the Bunny Barrow's first levels and ordered to answer the challenge issued by no less than a lesser-god-emperor. Benny the Bunnymancer, dreaded boss of the third level, had responded to Vern's taunts and rantings. How could he not? He'd been listening to his spies as they gave him updates on the group of players making their way through the upper levels of the dungeon. When he found out that a fortress had been built on his doorstep, he immediately sent undead reinforcements to the top of the dungeon, forgetting about the players. Losses were mounting, and without going up himself, there was no one to resurrect the troops. And he certainly wasn't leaving his throneroom, SHE wouldn't be happy and might demote him to underboss or minion.

In a panic to keep this threat out of his dungeon, he dispatched four of his named creatures to lead his troops. Bonetail, Chitters, SloppyJim, and Shuffles were all Level Five named bosses. Certainly, with their power and his level three Barrow Guards, the small fortress would fall, and the threat of the lesser-god-emperor would be defeated. The troops, led by the bosses, marched along the main passageway and formed up for a charge, not noticing the group of five adventurers hiding in an alcove behind Iggy's Ingenious Illusionary Wall. Bennie was looking through Chitter's eyes and guiding the horde, blind to the careful and quiet group that moved to his throne and surrounded him. Five voices shouted 'Surprise' and sent Bennie to the cellar to respawn.

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"I still can't believe that worked. Where were all his guards going?"

"Dunno, but if we can finally kill the boss on the third level and earn the keys to the fourth level, I'm not complaining."

"Leave and grab the loot, or head to the fourth?"

"Let's try four. I don't like the idea of leaving; it might be a warzone outside. Maybe a special event?"

"I'm curious, but I'd rather hit level four and see what it's like."

They all nodded and left Bennie's bones to reknit as they headed to more adventures deeper in the Lair of the Underrodent.

The dubious leadership of the four bosses resulted in a shambling charge at the fortress with a tightly packed mass of undead swarming like a river. Vern was laughing hysterically as he brought down lightning bolts into the thickest part of the mass, hitting several undead each time. He felt invigorated and didn't want to stop. From the sidelines, Ben was scowling.

"That shouldn't be happening."

Ozzy shrugged, "What? Vern ranting or Vern actually being effective?"

"His spell is getting stronger. Something is supercharging the rod, but where is the power coming from?"

"Lots of stuff is dying. Isn't that how you set it up?"

"Yes, but with limits. The battery can only hold so much, and the energy from something dying disperses quickly. Unless..." He turned and glared at Ozzy. "...Unless someone adds a variable to my careful calculations. I think that the gunk you dumped in that hole is also absorbing the mana from all the undead dying."

Ozzy thought for a bit and nodded. "Makes sense. We got meat daemons when a whole lot of dark mana pooled around the piles of scraps. It probably has to hit some threshold before anything happens, and right now, Vern is draining it. Look at me, a simple Butcher doing science."

"We'll argue the science later. I think this is going to be the last stand of Fort Barrow. That's a shitload of undead rolling in."

Corporal Thune thought so as well. "We can't stop that. Set the brush on fire." The soldiers able to use cantrips cast their spells, and with a large roar, the alcohol and oil caught fire, and within 30 seconds, the barrier was ablaze and the flames were twenty feet high. Undead were already running into it and being destroyed. A few flaming carcasses made it through but were dispatched quickly. The soldiers retreated underneath wet blankets, protected from most of the heat by the earthen walls. Vern was casting as fast as he could. One hand held he rod in the air, and his other was wrapped around the charging receptacle. The mana from Ben's overcharged batteries flowed into both Vern and his rod as his blasts became more powerful, taking out a half dozen enemies at a time.

But still they came. The blaze was dying down now, the light tinder consumed, and hundreds of charred zombies smothering the burning logs. The soldiers threw off their blankets and struggled to keep the undead at bay as the four bosses came closer and closer. Vernon was blasting blindly, unable to see with his weak eyes, the darkness, and the clouds of smoke. A soldier went down when three zombies leaped at him and knocked him down. Through the gap came more and more. The fight to keep them out was hopeless, and the remaining soldiers were pushed back into a ring around the pole. Thune was chopping down on rotting heads with a heavy poleaxe, killing a zombie with each swing. When a much larger, man-sized rabbit with chittering broken teeth appeared in front of him, he brought his weapon down on its head, but didn't kill it. Chitter lunged and knocked him to the ground, leaping on him. Thune's only other weapon was his gladius, and he held it out with both hands and speared Chitter in the empty eye socket. The boss shattered into bits of bone, and the corporal regained his feet, one of four soldiers left. A minute later, they were all dead. Vern hadn't noticed or hadn't cared.

The undead filled the little fortress, and sharp teeth began to gnaw at the pole. The remaining bosses started pushing it back and forth, trying to knock it over. Vern was knocked back and forth in his little crow's nest and finally realized what was happening. Through the thinning smoke, he saw that most of the horde was below him.

"I'm not dying again to a bunch of stupid rabbits. I'm an ACME Vice President! I don't take this shit from underlings!" He hurled his strongest Smite down into the mass, destroying SloppyJim. The energy from his death was absorbed by the seething mass of brains, Dark Mana, and Necromantic energy as it tried to form itself into a monstrosity, but Vern pulled out enough to stop that from happening as he sent another blast into the undead. Bonetail saw the blast coming and dodged. The Smite hit the wooden planking and blasted through, hitting Ben's battery. Vern couldn't move as energy flowed through him, and down through a continuous electrical arc into the battery, the energy looping over and over. Undead were killed, yet more tried to push into the fort, attracted by the delicious smell of brains. Each undead destroyed added to the pool of energy until the experimental battery overloaded.

Rolly, Ben, and Ozzy had seen this happen before. Rolly grabbed the three priests and hid behind a log. Ozzy brought up his strongest Shield, and Ben...well, Ben made sure his hat was on straight, then raised his fist in the air and yelled, "For Science!"

Fort Barrow disappeared in an explosion of mana that rolled across Bunny Hill and was absorbed by the greedy soil, ensuring a new crop of undead would be ready in a few days. One of the priests saw a glowing, fiery Vernon thrown into the air. Vern was dead when his body hit the ground a hundred yards away. Leaving yet another tombstone.

The blast was huge, but far less than the one at the gates of Gadobhra. Ozzy's Shield held, and he and Ben were standing in the blast's aftermath. The priests were jabbering in their foreign tongue and eager to walk back to talk to Billy. Rolly said something to them that got them excited. After they left, Rolly came over to the Butcher and the Courier. "Nice guys, they and Billy will get along great. And boy, they never shut up."

"You understand them?"

"Sure, what they speak is pretty close to wyvern, and I was picking it up pretty quickly. They were certain the Lesser-God-Emperor Uncavarn had ascended to a higher plane. I told them he was off to commune with the spirits of ACME and would return at dawn for his next day of trials. They seemed impressed by that. They said some interesting things that I'll be passing on to our buddy the Baron."

The Butcher turned to the Courier. "Maybe don't tell your Uncle Damien about our brain-powered mana bomb?"

Ben agreed, "Not until I perfect and write a paper on it. He'd steal all the credit."