Artemis kept turning those words over in her head as she and the squad crunched down the snowy, forested path towards the base of the mountain. They weren’t far from a town called Grayvale, which frightened whispers claimed was home (guinea pig farm, more like) to the two necromancers they were looking for, a master and an apprentice. And although it was probably just her own scared mind, the wind had a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. She fell back a few steps to the first pony behind her and cleared her throat. “Um. Sword? You know those… firebombs in your armor?”