by Pirateaba
The adventurers had stopped at an open room, large and filled with stone altars and the remains of wooden tables. And curiously, open stone slabs, placed symmetrically around the room.
“Another prayer room? How strange. But this is definitely a temple, then.”
“But why have a shrine underground? It makes no sense.”
Ceria shook her head as she stared at the stone slabs placed around the room.
“No. This is—different from above. What are those open places for? They look—big. Long enough to accommodate a body.”
“A place to sleep? But why the place to pray?”
Ceria shrugged. And then her eyes widened.
“I know. This is a place to put dead bodies to be cleansed before they’re buried. This isn’t a temple. It’s a crypt.”
The adventurers around her who heard that muttered, half in agreement, the other half worried. It was good and bad news. Ceria heard Gerial explaining why to Olesm behind her.
“A crypt or a tomb is good because there’s probably treasure buried with the dead. But it usually means traps, ancient curses and hexes on the lid of tombs and so on. Not to mention the undead.”
Yvlon raised her voice to be heard by the others.
“It’s a good sign, though. We know there’s something valuable here. Any place with this much architecture had to be important.”
Gerald nodded. He seemed happier than Ceria remembered ever seeing him.
“Could be powerful artifacts up ahead. Let’s keep moving.”
“This is a good place to fall back to, though. See—there’s only two ways in and we can use that long corridor as a killing zone with our bows if we need to.”
Cervial pointed around the room. Yvlon nodded with the other Captains.
“If we can’t find anywhere better we’ll camp here. But for now—let’s continue.”
The adventurers formed up again and moved onwards, a bit faster now that they knew what might lie ahead. A tomb, or perhaps a treasury for the dead. It made their hearts beat a little faster, their feet move a little quicker.
Ceria was just about to ask Yvlon more about Ryoka and what she had been told about the girl when someone exclaimed up ahead. She and Yvlon pushed forwards again and found a split in their path.
“What’s this? A split in the road? Which way did the scouts go?”
Gerald growled while Calruz squatted on the ground and looked around for a sign.
“No markings on the walls. Why didn’t they double back and warn us?”
Yvlon frowned as Cervial and Lir both pushed their way forwards.
“That is odd. Should we send a spell to contact them? Lir, you said your group used a short-distance communication spell, right?”
Lir nodded. He raised his glowing staff.
“I will talk with them. One mom—hold on, what’s this?”
The glowing bright-blue light from his staff had illuminated something further down the corridor. Lir pointed, and walked over to something on the ground while the other captains followed him.
“It’s quite large—a bag?”
It was indeed a bag, or rather, a large, bulky sack sitting on the ground. It wasn’t alone. Ceria could see a few more objects lying on the floor, although the light didn’t illuminate them.
“Careful Lir. It could be a trap.”
“Hm. [Detect Magic]. Nothing.”
Cautiously, Lir poked the bag with the tip of his staff. He moved the sides a bit and something spilled out. Lir swung the tip of his staff down and his eyes widened.
“Gold? Gold?”
It was indeed gold. As the other adventurers exclaimed, Lir carefully picked up the piece of gold and stared at it.
“It’s not money obviously. But what is it? It looks—like part of something else. A broken piece of gold from a wall or—or statue or something.”
Gerald frowned.
“Is there more inside?”
Cautiously, an adventurer opened the bag and exclaimed in amazement.
“More gold! And jewels! Gods, it’s a small fortune!”
Several other adventurers clustered around instantly, but Cervial pushed them back. He bent and picked up a small ruby, staring hard at it.
“This is strange.”
“What is?”
He showed the gem to Yvlon and the others. Ceria could see it glowing in the light. It was clearly high-quality, but there was something off about it.
“Look at the sides. Stone. It was attached to something. A wall perhaps, or some kind of art…?”
“You’re saying this is from some other part of the building. Looted by an adventurer…?”
“Must be. And these other…yes, these are all bags full of loot! Abandoned. Why?”
“Something got them. Or—scared them enough that they dropped everything and ran.”
“But no one ever made it down to the second floor and returned.”
The adventurers were silent. Ceria felt the slight pricking of unease in her stomach.
Strangely, it was Olesm who spoke in the silence. He looked around in the darkness, eyes flicking around him.
“Those scouts. They never reported the split in the tunnel. And they would have come back. Where did they go?”
Yvlon opened her mouth, and then her eyes widened. A third of the adventurers in the room jerked or grabbed at their weapons. Ceria had felt it too.
Ceria and Yvlon exchanged a look.
“My [Dangersense]—”
“Ambush!”
That was the only warning they had. Something shrieked off in the distance, and then the walls around them slid open, and the dead poured out.
1.01 H
The dead charged out of the darkness in an unending tide of desiccated corpses. Their ruined flesh and glowing eyes in hollow sockets flickered in the torch and magelight. Zombies ran, crawled or shuffled in a wave of discolored skin, but they weren’t alone.
More undead had appeared: skeletons that sprang at the nearest adventurers with inhuman grace and ghouls, the advanced form of a zombie which moved and fought with supernatural speed and strength. And far worse, in between the lesser varieties of the dead larger shapes and pale figures could be spotted.
“Crypt Lord!”
“Not just one! Four of them!”
“We’re surrounded! Retreat!”
“Hold your ground!”
Calruz’s massive voice rose above the others. He cleaved a running zombie in two as he shouted at the adventurers.
“Hold, damn you! Fall back in order! Warriors, hold and mages retreat to the chamber!”
It was impossible to tell if anyone had heard. The undead were coming from all sides, not just the two passageways but from behind the adventurers as well.
Yvlon and Ceria stood side by side, eyes darting left and right. The undead were everywhere. They were already attacking the adventurers around Ceria and Yvlon, and only their position in the middle of the group had given them a chance to react.
Ceria raised her wand, but there were too many bodies in the way from where she was. Yvlon was in the same situation. The blonde adventurer looked behind her. The adventurers were trying to move back, but a group of the dead had appeared behind them, holding them in place.
“Where are they coming from?”
Ceria pointed.
“There! Secret passages!”
Parts of the stone wall had opened up to let the undead come pouring out. They were only small alcoves, barely large enough for a small group to stand comfortably. But the dead had been packed inside, waiting until someone stepped in their trap.
And now the trap was sprung and death was all around.
The warriors in front of Ceria were grappling with the undead, but they were hemmed in, and had trouble lifting their weapons. Yvlon stepped backwards and slashed at a skeleton that was stabbing a mage. The woman collapsed, bleeding, but disappeared under the press of legs before Ceria could grab her.
Desperately, Ceria shifted to line up a spel
l, but she was trapped. They were too close together. She looked at the back of a warrior in chainmail and raised her wand. She could help him with a spell—
A huge, clawed hand seized the warrior around the waist and dragged him screaming up into the air. Ceria froze as the undead monster who had seized the armored man hurled him into the press of the dead where he was instantly swarmed and torn apart.
The other adventurers around Ceria fell back rather than get into range of the thing’s claws. She tried to retreat, but now the press worked against her. She was suddenly at the front and the monster was in front of her. It was no zombie. She knew she was staring at a Crypt Lord, one of the thinking undead.
A Crypt Lord was a dead creature animated by powerful magic that had grown even more terrible over the years since its reanimation. Whatever shape they originally had, it had been twisted by rot and decay. They stood taller than every adventurer save for Calruz, their hunched backs and huge, bloated faces grinning with more sharp teeth than a human could have.
It wasn’t teeth, but bones. Yellowed bones that had been shifted and broken to create the illusion. The Crypt Lords ate the dead to recover their bodies. That was why their powerful arms and legs had a terrible patchwork appearance as the flesh and bone had fused to become whole.
The Crypt Lord grinned at Ceria, and black liquid ran from between its teeth. They had blood, of a kind. Poisonous black blood that carried disease and death.
It spat and Ceria dove at once. The black poison struck her, but most of it landed on her robes. She rolled to a safe patch and saw two glowing blue eyes peering at her from above.
For a second Ceria relaxed. It was just Toren. But—this skeleton wasn’t the same. It was covered with red blood and held a jagged, broken sword in its hands. And Toren was miles away and above ground.
The bloody skeleton raised the blade and brought it down on Ceria as she tried to roll again. It struck her in the back.
Ceria shouted in agony, but again her robes caught the blade and took most of the blow. She still felt like something was trying to crush her spine, but she was alive. Not for long, though. The skeleton raised its sword again.
Ceria pointed her wand up. A shard of ice blasted the skeleton’s head off and the rest of the body crumpled to the floor.
Shaking, she leapt to her feet. She was exposed. The Crypt Lord spat again, but this time at another adventurer. It was too dangerous. She raised her wand and aimed.
The monster had an amalgamation of eyes it had stolen from corpses. They clustered together in huge fleshy sockets, around fifteen individual eyeballs in each ‘eye’. They spun towards her and she spoke.
“[Ice Spike]!”
The thick shard of ice buried itself in the Crypt Lord’s head and a gout of black blood spurted outwards with the ruined eyeballs. The Crypt Lord roared soundlessly and ran towards Ceria.
“Duck!”
Ceria didn’t know where the voice came from, but she instantly crouched. She felt her hair catch on something and several strands were yanked out as Cervial loosed a crossbow bolt straight into the Crypt Lord’s other eye.
This time it did scream out loud, a wailing cry that came from multiple voices within it. Ceria staggered back as it began to flail around, striking the other undead around it as it searched for something to kill.
Ceria turned, but suddenly five zombies appeared out of the melee and ran at her and the archer-Captain. He cursed and pulled out a shortsword rather than reload. Ceria took one down with another [Ice Spike] before two of them lunged at her.
Ceria knew over fifty spells she could use, but her wand had contained the [Ice Spike] spell and thus she could cast it faster than anything else. She hammered a shard of ice into the chest of one zombie, making it sit down hard and then fled from the other one’s hands.
The undead Drake lurched after her, but a woman with a mace bashed it to the ground. She was one of Yvlon’s Silver Spears, although her silvery armor was covered in gore.
Ceria didn’t bother to even shout thanks. In the next moment both she and the warrior were fighting again. She fired over the head of an archer and caught a ghoul as it leapt down on the man. He looked up, backed away, and then shot the creature three times in the face.
More movement. Ceria spun and saw a downed figure she recognized.
A ghoul was crouching on top of Gerial, slashing at him with its claws. Ceria didn’t hesitate. She ran forwards, drawing her belt dagger from its sheathe. She planted it in the back of the ghouls’ head, ramming it through the softened skull and into the exposed brain.
To her horror, the ghoul didn’t die from her attack. It turned its head, glowing crimson eyes flashing with hatred at her. It raised a claw, and Gerial kicked up. The Ghoul tumbled off him and he sat up and ran his sword through its shoulder.
Ceria raised her wand and blasted the creature’s face apart. It went down for good and she helped Gerial to his feet. His face was a bloody mask, but he grabbed a potion from his belt and emptied it over his injuries. They began healing even as Ceria watched.
He gasped and shuddered as Ceria covered them with her wand.
“Gods, this is a mess. Where are the others?”
“I don’t know.”
Most of the torches had been dropped on the ground, and only a few [Light] spells were illuminating the darkness. It made everything twice as hard, as adventurers mistook each other for enemies.
“Gerial. We can’t regroup like this. I need to cast [Illumination], but I’ll need defending.”
He nodded.
“Do it.”
Ceria raised her wand and began focusing on the spell. It was so difficult as adventurers fought and monsters screamed around her, but she had to. Her mind was focused on a single point, and then that single point became many. She held the image of what she wanted in her head and willed it to be certainty.
“Form on me! Horns of Hammerad, to me!”
Gerial shouted as he struck and kicked undead around them, trying to keep them from reaching Ceria. She saw even as the magic in him surged. She was in a half-place, half in this world, watching, fearing, trying desperately to cast a little faster to save her friends, half in the world of magic, riding the eddies and currents and seeking the truth.
Motion. She saw a Drake—the only one that wasn’t dead in this place—running away. A break in the dead coming from behind had created an opening, and he ran through it, fleeing the battle.
Part of her wanted to shout, but the magic was nearly ready. Olesm was running in the other direction faster than Ceria thought he could move. Eight other adventurers fled with him, all of them mages to judge by their clothing.
A group of skeletons was in hot pursuit. They disappeared into the darkness and Ceria prayed she wouldn’t be too late. The magic reached a tipping point, and she opened her mouth.
“[Illumination]!”
Light suddenly filled the long corridor. Adventurers cried out, shielding their faces as orbs of light flew up from the ground, bright, shining white beacons spaced ten feet apart. They turned the darkness of the crypt into day.
For a second the undead faltered with the living. They hesitated, perhaps as the Crypt Lords sensed their advantage was gone. The adventurers shook the temporary blindness from their eyes. Now they could see the enemy. They roared and attacked.
Gerial crashed into two skeletons, scattering their bones. Ceria raised her wand and used another spell.
A small wave of water struck Gerial behind the knees. He staggered, but his heavy armor kept him upright. The skeletons weren’t so lucky. They fell to the ground and immediately began pushing themselves upright.
That wasn’t her main goal, though. Ceria aimed her wand at the spreading pool of water and it froze. Gerial cursed as the water turned to ice, but he was suddenly surrounded by a huge area of iced ground. Adventurers jumped out of the way rather than fight on the unstable footing, but the dead were less intelligent. They slipped and fell as they came after them
, easy targets.
More zombies rushed at Ceria and she ran back. The adventurers had formed a rough circle and she found another mage throwing bolts of fire off of his staff. He whirled and smiled at her.
“Ceria!”
“Sostrom!”
“You take that side I’ll take this.”
They stood back-to-back, blasting corpses back with their magic. Ceria spotted Calruz and several other warriors fighting the Crypt Lords, keeping the four massive creatures at bay while the lesser undead tried to break through the ranks of adventurers.
“We need more space!”
Sostrom yelled it in Ceria’s ears. She nodded.
“There! Get to Lir!”
The two mages ran back, letting other warriors close the gap. The mage-Captain was hurling lightning with his staff at a Crypt Lord. Ceria grabbed him by the shoulder and he spun.
“We need to cut them off! Can you cast a spell?”
He shouted back.
“I can! But I need an opening! And the dead are behind us as well!”
“No!”
Both Lir and Ceria stared at Sostrom. He pointed.
“Look!”
Another hole had opened up behind the embattled adventurers. Flashes of light and spells blasted apart zombies and skeletons. More adventurers, fighting in the burial room they’d passed.
“There’s our opening! If you can buy us time—”
“Give me a minute. Can you clear the area first?”
Ceria nodded.
“Sostrom—”
“On it.”
He covered both mages as they began to concentrate again. Ceria raised her wand and felt the heat building in her wand. She aimed and shouted at the adventurers in front of her.
“I’m going to cast a big one. Everyone get back!”
They looked around, saw the fiery glow coming from her wand, and scattered to the left and right. Ceria saw Gerial ram into Calruz to get the Minotaur to move aside. She aimed at one of Crypt Lords as it swiped at the retreating adventurers.
“[Fireball]!”
A glowing orange orb of fire as large as a basketball burst from her wand. It shot down the corridor and struck the Crypt Lord in the chest.
Ceria felt the blast kick her backwards and heard only ringing. Sostrom caught her, and for a few seconds all was smoke and confusion. Then Ceria saw the Crypt Lord howling, caught ablaze and the dead around it scattered, literally in fiery pieces or thrown to the ground.