Stage Dressing (Into the Steaming Jungles)

The roar of the battle above was loud enough to filter down into the still air of the crypt. Standing silently, the two massive iron sentinels peered impassively at the stairs that led outside. Small dust motes spilled down a hallway that led deeper into the cliff, stirred up by another battle, this one more quiet and containing the desperate quality that only a fight with ravenous undead could bring about.

When the last ghoul fell to his blade, Durvil stepped forward and crouched at the entrance to the next room, peering into the gloom. Nothing else moved. Behind him, Selah saw to each of the party, being sure that they were unharmed and weren’t touched by the disease the undead carried. Ix, of course, was peering at the wall markings he had been meaning to look at before being so rudely interrupted.

“How long have they been down here?” Durvil asked, more to break the silence than anything else. Hearing the battle above, he wanted nothing more than to finish this and get back to his sister’s side. But Selah needed a little time to do her work, and rushing alone into the darkness was not a wise tactic.

“Judging by the look of this place,” Ixilplith replied, running his fingers along the runes, “about 6,000 years.” Stopping on one of the patterns, he cocked his head to one side, as if recalling something. “This looks similar to the mark the Taldan military uses to denote their watch posts. It’s the only thing I recognize, though.”

“Six thousand years?” Lothar asked. “That’s a long time to be on watch.”

“It would explain why they were so mindless,” Selah suggested. “Usually the undead are more cunning than these were. Ghouls are created when the living die from starvation. If they then went without…food…for that long, even ghouls would succumb to their own variety of insanity.”

“There are some traces of transmutation magic left in this alcove,” Ix said. Tracing it along the wall and onto the floor, he frowned, rubbing his fingers through the dust. “Some sort of powdered gemstone. Emerald?” Looking more closely, his eyebrows rose. “And ruby. Along with something else. This was an incredibly powerful spell.”

“Study later, Ix,” Durvil interrupted. “Right now we have to figure out what’s down here.” He grinned. “Destiny awaits.”

As if prompted, an earth shattering roar sounded from the surface, echoing through the chambers. All around the group, the runes on the walls began to glow with a faint, ghostly light.