The darkness of the tunnel was oppressive. Durwood’s hand was firmly on the shoulder of the dwarven cleric ahead of him, clutching tightly to the only thing that felt like safety. Somewhere ahead, seemingly very far away, were the flickering pulses of mage lights and the faint sounds of metal scraping and shuffling feet. Durwood’s foot stubbed into something hard and he had to fight from yelling out as the pain coursed through his body. How was he supposed to sneak up on somebody in the dark? He could feel the shift of the priestess’ shoulder under his hand and he didn’t have to be able to see her to know she was glaring at him.

Brylla and he had decided to hang back from the others, somewhat for safety, somewhat to help the others with their silent approach. The dwarf’s armour, even with Brylla’s carefully slow movement, made a constant noise and it clinked along in the darkness. With no other noises around them, Durwood felt like it was a shout in the dark that screamed “HEY LOOK OVER HERE, HERE WE ARE!”. Brylla seemed unconcerned, though, or at least he imagined so based on the calm breathing she had as they advanced. The priestess seemed to have no issues seeing where they were going, but Durwood couldn’t see his fingers in front of his face in this tunnel and he really missed having a light in his hand to comfort him. What had he gotten himself into?

As they approached the end of the dark tunnel and light started to finally reach them, Durwood realized that he might have gotten himself in over his head. The creatures of the Dark that he had encountered up until now had already been the stuff of nightmares that haunted his dreams, waking him again and again in terror. The memories of the horde rushing at them upstairs were still too fresh to have pushed to the side and he could swear he still heard them banging on the doors and windows above. His heart was already racing as they moved down the tunnel, but now it leapt into his throat as the creatures before them turned their gaze upon his companions that were a few lengths ahead of them. The pair of cultists in their poorly fitting robes stood around a large stone slab, lit by the dim mage lights held in candelabras that were spaced around the crypt chamber. A shapeless form of darkness seemed to hover just on the edge of the light, but despite this horrible vision his eyes were drawn to the massive armoured figure before them that held a blade that must have been longer than he was tall.

He suddenly realized his hand was no longer holding onto the reassuring shoulder that had been within reach this whole time. The others had begun charging forward, leaving him hanging back in the darkness, observing the scene unfolding before him. He watched as the large knight before them parted her lips and readied herself. He saw the goliath raise his axe and the dragonborn slipping forward, maw open. The elf was racing ahead, directly into danger.

A little voice in his head chuckled.

“It’s time, don’t you think?” it whispered to him.

“No, not again.”

“You think you are strong enough?” the voice said, with another small rolling laugh. “You know you need it.”

Durwood closed his eyes and felt the energy flow through him. It was different than the weave he had grown up tapping into. It always felt wrong, like it was tainted. His eyes opened, a slight glimmer of green fire behind his pupils as he grinned in the dark.

My, my, my… what a big sword you have

The large lady warrior’s eyes gleamed with a strange blue glow and an arc of energy seemed to flow between her fingers and the blade she held in both of her steel gauntlets. Her lips were parted in a grim smile, her teeth slightly bared, as she surged forward to meet the oncoming charge. Al watched as the warrior’s enormous steel brand swung in wide arcs, narrowly missing the elf before connecting solidly against his shield. The goliath’s axe came down hard on her solid armour with a strength that would have crushed lesser creatures, but this warrior merely planted her feet more firmly, ready to press back.

Two robed bodies now lay on the stone sarcophagus in the center of the room, his own handiwork from just a moment ago. Honestly, Al had thought the cultists would be tougher, but apparently these were just flunkies picked up to do some grunt work in the crypt, like the ones they had met outside. It was a mix of satisfaction and disappointment as he watched them spasm and jerk within the crackling arc of his lightning. The dragon in him relished the sight of flesh sizzling and smoke curling from charred robes, but the adventurer in him craved a true challenge.

A small hopping shape grabbed his attention as Tanis’ drake leapt forward, teeth bared and locking down on the evil knight’s ankle. The creature didn’t even seem to feel it, kicking the drake backwards as if it had been nothing. Al could tell the large warrior was sizing them up, trying to decide who was the biggest threat. That was when Al saw the others…

They came from the darkness above them, the very shadows swirling downward with a slight gleam of cruel fire where eyes might have been on a physical creature. The shadows swiped and then retreated into the darkness, making it nearly impossible to track them. Brylla was nearby, a light forming around her as the divine energy of her goddess surged through her and into the darkness, seeking out the shadows before her. The large woman with the sword didn’t seem to pay these shadows any mind, nor the brilliant energy of the dwarf, her focus was purely on keeping her blade moving forward at the oncoming attackers. Something was wrong, though. There was a hesitation, if only for a moment. Al could see the look on the knight’s face change as her lips seemed to curl into a grimace, as if trying to resist something, but failing to do so. Something was forcing her to do something…

The knight stiffly turned, her eyes locking with the cleric that stood with her back against a wall.

“Brylla! Look out!” Al shouted, already in motion to try to intercept the knight. It raised its sword high, bringing the blade down fast in a crushing arc on the tiny red-haired priestess.

The Lightbringer

Brylla had lived a life of relative peace, like most of those in Lani. The last season had turned the world upside down and she had been forced to see more malice, hate, and evil in a few tendays than she had witnessed in an entire lifetime. She was no longer surprised when creatures rose from the ground, determined to try to rip her throat out. Or when the very air around her could coalesce into a screaming void of darkness that would attempt to swallow her whole. Now, as the blade crushed into her shield, driving her backward, Brylla added another new item to the list of unsurprising evil that threatened to tear her world apart.

Her world? When had the small duty of caring for the injured and questing for knowledge transformed into a responsibility to protect an entire realm from the forces of darkness? The humility taught to them in the temple urged her to reconsider, but there was an anger inside of her that was bubbling forth. An anger that didn’t seem born from the dwarf herself. Something was channeling in her that refused the evil before her.

She screamed out as the large warrior reached forward, a glowing gauntlet literally attempting to rip her life force away. Brylla’s power faltered, if only briefly, as she saw the aura of divine radiance around her falter. The anger was swelling…

The others were shouting, coming to her aid as blow after blow rained down upon her. A burst of power left her body, trying to push back her attacker who had ignored all others around them. The knight was focused solely on snuffing out her light. She could feel the blood running down one of her arms from a cut that had gone too deep. Her left eye was swollen shut from the force of a hilt that she had stopped with her face.

Brylla had no witty quips to offer, no promises of eternal judgement by the gods, nor any last words of regret. Whomever was running this show had made a serious tactical error in focusing on her. Brylla was no coward, but now the most dangerous creature in this room was solely focused on her.

Bring it!

She blocked another blow with her shield, feeling the force of the impact through her entire arm as the shield threatened to buckle under the strength of the knight’s attacks. It’s cruel glare and blue-flamed eyes glared at her as it swung its enormous blade down. The world went black as Brylla’s legs gave out and she slumped to the floor.

The ritual

Tanis had trained for years to become a warrior like his ancestors had been in the ancient times, but upon seeing the sheer brutality of power unleashed by the enormous warrior with the sword it became clear that there was still much to learn. Already, Flynver had been lost. Now, Brylla lay on the ground bleeding out upon the dusty marble stone of this crypt. The blade in his hand flashed quickly, stabbing into the knight’s left flank, causing the creature to turn its blue-tinged attention to him.

The creature had no words for him, it simply stared and prepared itself, but seemed to suddenly become more aware of its surroundings. Its blinded concentration on Brylla was over and now it was facing four powerful opponents, and a small drake, without much support on its side. Tanis knew they had the upper hand and could see that the knight was also coming to the same realization.

The shadow-things that accompanied this warrior were insistent, but hid at the first opportunity they could. This left the armoured enemy exposed and alone to face the group of them. Backing away slowly, the warrior suddenly made a break for it, using her large blade to deflect Tanis’ swing, but she soon found itself lying on the ground, an enormous axe in its back, its owner’s tattooed hands slowly pulling it out of the corpse.

Tanis patted Audak’s shoulder in appreciation as they quickly made their way to Brylla’s side to make sure she was okay. Durwood had a strange look in his eyes as he covered them with swirling balls of energy and blasts of magic flying across the room. The shadow creatures seemed to be in full retreat now, just in time for them to help Brylla. Her body was still warm, and when Tanis placed a hand under her nose it seemed she was still breathing.

“She’s still alive!” he shouted, turning to the others. “We need to get her back on her feet before those things come back.”

“I know something that could help” offered Audak, his hand holding the totem around his neck.

Tanis watched as the goliath leaned down to Brylla, muttering some sort of ritual words that the elf didn’t recognize. Audak ran the blade of his axe across his massive arm, allowing blood to flow freely from the cut, dripping down upon the unconscious priestess’ armour. Tanis had not seen Audak try this before, but the barbarian seemed to be sending some of his own energy into Brylla, whose breathing had started becoming more regular. Suddenly, the dwarf’s eyes sprang open as she began frantically looking around herself, shield raised, only to find herself surrounded by friends.

“No rest for you, yet” teased Tanis, reaching one hand down to pull the dwarf back to her feet.

“ALL CLEAR!” shouted Al, as he scouted the corners looking for the shadows that Durwood had forced back.

Well, perhaps there would be a moment to rest?

What’s inside the box?

They stood together in the dim flickering aura of the ancient mage lights that had stood guard here in this crypt for millennia, upright at attention in their intricate candelabra. Everything around them seemed quiet now. Still. Peaceful, even. It had been hard to admire the beautiful work around them in the initial charge down the dark tunnel. Every support column had elaborate artwork upon them, the paint colours long-faded but still elegant and detailed. The dust-covered marble flooring was assembled piece-by-piece in a work of artisanal craftsmanship that was rarely seen in Lani these days.

The peaceful quiet was disturbed by a distant noise from somewhere behind them. Even here, below the ground, through all the stone of the crypt and down through the long tunnel, they could hear the sounds coming from above. Something, or many things, had arrived and were attempting to break through the barricading they had done on the church doors upstairs. The loud banging repeated again and again. It was only a matter of time before a horde would descend upon them here.

“Let’s make it quick” suggested Al, as the dragonborn searched the bodies for clues.

Audak wasn’t sure why they had to be hurried. Who would face them now? They had slaughtered many of the Dark, including those pitiful hordes of zombies. He relished the chance to destroy even more, but now the dragonkin was rooting through the dead cultists robes in such a hurried fashion that the barbarian wondered if Al’s claws would tear the bodies apart.

“So is this the thing they wanted to open?” asked Audak, pointing to the large sarcophagus in the center of the room. The cultists singed bodies lay slumped down beside it, no useful findings within their pockets. “How does it open?”

There seemed no obvious handles or locks, though Tanis and Al did discover a mechanical hinge system attached on the edge. Tiny gouges and cuts could be found upon the hard stone where the cultists had tried to pry the lid off with their blades, but the dead acolytes of the Dark had made almost no progress on opening to the sarcophagus. Audak pointed out a small plaque that had writing upon it in the common tongue, as well as old Dwarven and Elven.

“Kaulu, founding member of the Forgebound Wardens, stood against the Dark until his final breath, defending the great city that he loved. May the Light carry him onward.”

“Is it a clue?” asked the barbarian, unsure of himself in this type of situation. He preferred ones where his axe could do the problem solving.

“I’m not sure”, Tanis replied to him, one eyebrow raised as he ran a finger across the elven script on the plaque. “It’s written in multiple languages and there are some signs of elven masterwork around the room. Perhaps we need to read all the variations?”

Reciting the epitaph in the elf’s native language got them no further, much to their dismay. The lid of Kaulu’s tomb lay firmly shut, resisting their attempts.

“Let me try something” came Brylla’s voice as the short priestess sidled up to the edge of the lid. Her face barely cleared the height of the lid, but she raised up one of her gauntleted hands and placed it firmly on the top of the lid. Audak wasn’t sure what she was doing, but with her eyes closed and her lips moving swiftly in silent prayer it seemed like she was trying to talk to the very stone of the sarcophagus.

Still, the lid didn’t move, but something else began to happen. As the dwarf continued her prayer, a glow began to spread from her and into the stone, channeling her divine power into the very essence of the stone. While it did not move anything on the lid, Audak noticed that the mage lights in the room began to glow brighter, flickering in surges as the divine energy of Sif flowed into the room. Something strange was glowing upon them, something the barbarian didn’t recognize.

“By the mountain’s breath, what are those?” he asked, pointing at the intricately curved shapes carved into the mage lights.

“Rune-work” piped in Brylla, who was now looking quite closely at them, her face mere inches from their surface, eyes squinting against the light. “I’ve never really studied the arcane rituals that would work like this, but I’ve seen enough of these in the archives. An illusion, perhaps?”

“Illusion?” said Tanis, sliding up alongside her. “If only Flynver were here now, he would love this.”

A crash from above reminded them of the short time they had. Tanis immediately began searching along the walls, looking for something out of place, when suddenly his hand disappeared inside the wall. As he reached forward, he saw his entire forearm slide through the stone, until he had his arm up to his shoulder. There was no pain, but he could now feel cool stone beneath his fingers.

“There’s something hidden here” the elf said, before bravely stepping through. The wall shimmered briefly as he passed through it and disappeared completely from Audak’s site. His voice floated out from behind the “wall”, an excitement in it. “I think you’ll want to see this.”

Audak walked up to the illusory wall, poking at it with a finger, before shrugging and stepping through. His long stride almost led to a smashed nose as he had to pull himself up short to stop himself from striding straight into a hard stone wall on the other side.

“The ancients really loved their puzzles, didn’t they?” marveled Brylla, looking at the wall’s peculiar setup of wooden pegs. “What do you think this is for?”

The elf was already digging through a crate, tossing various metal pieces upon the floor that Audak didn’t recognize. Engineering was not something the Bear tribe was deeply engaged in and these metallic circles with teeth looked like they were about to fall apart from the rust on them. The elf, on the other hand, seemed quite at home. Strange, for one who spent so much time in the woods.

“Find the one with seven teeth” he said as he discarded yet another one of the metal discs. “And see if you can find one with four?”

It took almost no time before the elf had finely adjusted the pieces and stood proudly examining his constructions At his behest, Audak grabbed the first of the discs and began turning it, unsure of what was happening. The giant gears clicked into place, their motion slow at first after thousands of years of neglect. Ancient mechanisms behind the walls and under the floor began whirring and clicking, activating whatever device the Denn ancestors had placed here. A loud noise came from behind them as the sound of stone sliding aside indicated success.

“It’s open!” cried Durwood from the other side of the illusory wall, his voice tinged with some excitement but mostly fear.

Audak quickly stepped through, ready to smash whatever would rise from the ancient coffin, only to find a decrepit skeleton lying in an ornate suit of armour. Completely still. Upon the body of the dead knight was a giant glowing crystal which emitted a faint purple light. There was something about it that was strange, like there was an energy swirling around inside of it. All of them approached closer, trying to get a better look, but it became harder to look directly at it. What was happening?

Then Audak realized the crystal was starting to glow more brightly. Not just a little bit, a blinding amount. Second by second it’s brilliance was filling the room and eventually he had to avert his gaze from the painful brightness. Just before he closed his eyes, he thought he saw shapes clawing their way through the darkness of the tunnel at them. The sounds of their slapping feet echoed towards them from the tunnel.

The light grew brighter.

Audak fumbled for the handle of his axe and shielded his eyes with an arm. It was impossibly bright. He could hear Brylla shouting out in pain. The purplish light was vibrant and living and warm and filled him with hope, but he wasn’t sure he could take much more…

And then the room went dark. The explosion of light and energy had spread who knows how far, but as he dared to open his eyes again and look around, he saw the pile of corpses of the undead that had been charred and blasted to pieces by the divine explosion. What was that crystal?

The Crystal

The others were crowding around now, trying to get a better look at the strange crystal that the invaders had been after. Thousands, maybe millions, slaughtered across the land so they could get to this? Was it some powerful weapon? Tanis knew that whatever it was they didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands, and the others agreed.

Al was moving to wrap it up with a cloak, hoping to keep it safe and not activate any traps, but Tanis put his hand on the dragonborn’s wrist and halted him. The elf didn’t feel right, there was something…

He almost lost consciousness as the power of the memories flooded his mind. The Harper knowledge, buried in him by that fey’s charm, came surging back and completely took over his senses. He saw the crystal, or one like it, but it was in somebody’s hands. The hands holding it were pale, elegant, unused to hard work. As his vision of the scene expanded he realized the figure holding it was wearing a dark cloak, with the hood up. The pale-skinned mysterious man was standing before a massive door, made of some sort of ebony-coloured stone or metal, which towered over the hooded stranger. Other crystals, like the one the hooded figure held, were firmly installed in sconces at different points around this door. Each of them glowed with that same purple energy.

The cloaked shape moved slowly, carrying the crystal carefully, and then handed it to another figure that Tanis didn’t recognize. It was a dwarf, wearing traditional armour, but their kind were known to be fond of holding onto traditional armour for special ceremonies and the like so it was not exactly uncommon. Still, there was something about the way that the dwarf carried himself that spoke of power and confidence. Something familiar in the face, as well… He could feel like he was supposed to know who this was.

And then the memory was gone, shifted to a room that looked much like the crypt they were standing in. Everything looked fresh and newly built, with plenty of light and none of the marks of time upon the stones. The artwork on the pillars was fresh with bright colours in reds and greens and golds.

The knight within the tomb looked as if he had just been interred, the face of a young man in gleaming armour. The hooded figure was here again, its dark cloak billowing as it advanced toward the sarcophagus with one of the large crystals in its hand. Gingerly placing the crystal within the knight’s posed fingers, the figure turned to face him, his lips moving but no sound coming to Tanis’ ears. Whomever’s memory this was, they knew the speaker.

This time, Tanis recognized the face. The smirking lips, the eyes that seemed to smile with mischief, and that oh-so-punchable jawline. Ge’off. Of course it was.

With a painful jolt, the elf regained control and came back to the present. It had only been moments, but the others were staring at him strangely.

“Are you okay?” asked Brylla, her hand moving to the hilt of her mace.

“I’m fine” the elf answered, letting go of Al’s wrist. “I saw something… It was Ge’off. Here, in this room. He put the crystal in there.”

“If only we could reach him” pondered Al, moving once more to wrap up the crystal. “My contact for the guild here in Denn was Tormund, but nobody’s seen him since the invasion. If he’s alive, he fled with the others.”

Audak was lifting the lady knight’s giant sword off the ground, testing its weight, balancing it, judging it against his axe.

“Are you sure you should be touching that?” asked Durwood, who had seen the strange aura that the creature had given off. “We don’t know what possible magics might be on it.”

“Seems fine to me” grunted the barbarian, happily sheathing it on his back for the time being. “Shouldn’t waste a good blade!”

“We should clean it all up” suggested Al, pointing at the bodies. “No trace of what happened here should remain, in case they come back. The body too.”

“The body?” asked Brylla, shock in her voice. Her eyes focused on the corpse of the Denn knight Kaulu, resting peacefully. “We shouldn’t disturb the dead like that, especially not in a place like this.”

The dragonborn was having none of it, though, and tried to raise Kaulu out of the crypt. He managed to get one leg lifted slightly, but then he put it down almost immediately.

“Too heavy” the proud dragonborn stated, before proceeding to snarl at the others. “Not that any of you were helping.”

Tanis watched as Al stomped off down the tunnel, headed for the exit. Too heavy? He’d seen Al lift double that weight when they were helping fortify the walls around Audak’s home. How peculiar…

Freedom for Denn

He could hear the others packing up behind him, but Al wanted to put some distance for a moment and be alone with his thoughts. When he had touched that body, something had entered his thoughts and forced him to stop. Al thought of himself as someone with a fairly good grasp on himself and didn’t like the thought that something could compel him so easily.

He shoved aside the burnt remnants of some ghoulish creature on the floor, clearing his way to trample loudly down the tunnel. If he had been thinking clearly, he might have decided to move more carefully, but right now that wasn’t where his head was at. Instead, his booted feat stomped heavily through the layers of dust and stones and corpses. The further he got from the mage lights in the crypt, the more soothing the envelope of darkness became and the less he felt the shame of that moment. He suddenly found himself at the base of the stairs up, not even realizing he had come this far. The undead were layered upon each other, as if they had been crawling over themselves to get down the stairs, including a fairly massive one that was bigger than the goliath. It took Al several shoves to clear that one out of the way. The bodies were up to his knees, if not higher. All of them were at least partially blasted through, some of them were not much more than the bones.

When he reached the main doors to the church and pushed wide the now-broken double doors, he felt the rain pelting him in the face. He closed his eyes against the driving rain and felt himself relax as the repetitive pitter-patter of the rain falling on the stone walkway filled his senses. The air outside the church was fresh, free of the trapped stench of the undead, and filled with promise. Even the grey clouds and darkened sky were not able to hide the sense of hope that was on the air.

“Feels different, doesn’t it?” came Brylla’s voice at his elbow. “Like the moment after a long journey.”

“We should get back to Valor’s Rest” was his only reply. Al didn’t know why he didn’t feel like opening up, but focusing on the business at hand seemed to give him resolve. “Are the others ready?”

It wasn’t long before Audak and Tanis, with Durwood and a heavy bag of looted valuables in tow, came up the stairs and to the front doors. They walked through the main roadways, carefully but purposefully, winding their way through the quiet streets of Denn. Every path and trail they passed was quiet, the remains of the army of the Dark lying face-down where they had stood. Was Denn free?

The hastily replaced front doors of the Valor’s Rest Inn soon loomed before them, wide open and teeming with activity. By now it was mid-afternoon and it seemed like members of the Denn’s Watch were streaming in and out of the door, hurriedly delivering reports from city quarters. Boblin and Echo filled them in as soon as they arrived. The North, East, and West had all reported in… no more invaders!

“Boblin doesn’t know what you did, but thank you!” the little goblin said, bowing to them. “Again, you are big heroes!”

Echo rolled her eyes at the “big heroes” comment, but smiled and greeted them warmly. They soon were able to lay down their gear and start doling out the equipment they had brought from the church. As Brylla wove the tale of what they had seen and faced, Al tried to find a quiet spot to sit down alone, but there were no empty tables in the now-busy inn. There was a mood of celebration everywhere, but the dragonborn wasn’t up for a party quite yet.

Ge’off had something to do with this. He had worked for the guild long enough to know that if that man had been personally involved, whatever they had gotten themselves into was bad. Very, very, bad, indeed.

Credits

• Cover image: “Kaulu” composite image by Jason St-Cyr. Majority of the artwork is “Sir Gideon Ofnir” from Elden Ring by Bandai Namco. Sourced from Deviant Art user RivenaRivenka.