Chapter Eight – The Tomb
Fulgaday, 11 Tamihr, Year of Folivor the Restful Sloth, 489 years AWA
Celebration Grounds, Candibaru, Andovarra
As the group donned their wildshard circlets, the chamber around them shimmered and transformed. The polished stone walls darkened, growing rough with age and seeming to close in slightly. Ancient lichen clung to damp corners, and the air became thick with the scent of dust and decay. A chill permeated the space, carrying whispers of forgotten rites. Before them stretched a long-forgotten tomb, its stone sarcophagi cracked open, revealing movement within. Weak shafts of light filtered through narrow breaches in the ceiling, illuminating dancing motes of dust and highlighting the gleam of metal among the stirring bones.
From the broken stone containers, yellowed bones assembled themselves into humanoid forms that trailed tattered burial shrouds and wore broken and ancient-looking armor that hung loosely from their ribcages. Four sets of empty eye sockets flared with blue magical energy as bony hands grasped rusted scimitars and advanced toward the group of eight and bony feet kicked up dust as they moved.
As each person grabbed an item to fight with, two corpses standing nearly seven feet tall with unnaturally broad shoulders and swollen musculature lumbered in behind the bony skeletons. Their bloated gray-green flesh was split in places, revealing blackened muscle tissue beneath. Their faces were partly decomposed, with one eye missing entirely and jaws hanging slack. Murky fluid occasionally dripped from their wounds as they moved with a staggering gait, their fingers ending in jagged, broken nails perfect for tearing flesh.
As the companions exchanged anxious glances, yet another figure entered the room. Unlike the yellowed bones of the first skeletons, this skeleton’s bones were polished to an ivory sheen. It wore tarnished but still functional chain mail armor adorned with the figures of a forgotten military order. A crimson plume extended from its cracked helmet, and it eye sockets burned with crimson magical energy that left trails in the air as it moved. This champion carried a well-maintained longsword that gleamed despite the tomb’s darkness and bore a heavy steel shield emblazoned with a faded heraldic symbol. It moved with purpose and intelligence, directing the other monstrosities in the room with authoritative gestures.
Jori pointed at the ivory-boned skeleton and said, “That one is probably the biggest threat.”
As the champion skeleton made a beckoning gesture, two more figures entered the room. These were two skeletons that appeared to be perpetually burning from within. Their bones were charred black with glowing orange-red cracks that ran the length of each one. Flame constantly flickered between their ribs and within their skull cavities, and they bore scimitars that glowed white-hot when they moved.
The skeletal champion moved first, fixing its crimson gaze on Cali. Recognition. Assessment. Threat. It advanced with purpose, shield shifted to its off hand. The longsword flashed, and Cali screamed as blood streamed down her thigh.
So quickly! Cali thought with dismay, fear causing her heart to race. So quickly they target me.
The first burning skeleton now moved toward Perx, swinging its scimitar at him before the half-Elven wizard had a chance to put up any sort of defense. The blow struck Perx’s left arm, and was followed by the sound of sizzling flesh as the white-hot heat of the weapon burned Perx’s skin. The wizard grunted with pain, then separated the burning sensation into discrete components—heat transfer, nerve response, tissue damage—a mental exercise that allowed him to push the pain into a compartment of his mind while the rest of his mind stayed focused on the battle at hand.
The second burning skeleton now set its sights on Monoffa and thrust its scimitar at her, but the black Catfolk was able to easily dance away.
“You ugly old thing,” Monoffa scowled at it.
Kere was the first to act, summoning magical vines that erupted from the tomb floor to entangle the skeletons. Two became hopelessly snared, waving their rusty scimitars in frustration while a third broke free of the grasping tendrils.
With the skeletons temporarily hindered by Kere's magic, Jori seized the opportunity to act. He unshouldered his composite longbow and quickly nocked an arrow, taking aim at the skeleton champion. When the moment was right, he loosed on a soft exhalation and his arrow thudded solidly into the champion’s right eye socket.
The heat radiating from the burning skeleton intensified the already stifling air of the tomb. Sweat beaded on Perx's brow, the combination of pain, fear, and suffocating heat making spellcasting dangerously difficult. Perx, ignoring the pain in his arm, pulled ground mica from his pouch and cast Glitterdust. Golden particles showered over the undead, leaving two skeletons and one of the massive brutes blinded and disoriented, their hollow eye sockets frantically searching for targets they could no longer see.
As Monoffa weighed her options, calculating the best target for an electrical assault, the skeleton she had been eyeing suddenly backpedaled, creating tactical distance. The movement was so precise—so intentional—it was as if the creature had glimpsed her thoughts. Finally making up her mind, Monoffa extended her hand toward the skeleton that had attacked her, and the skeleton's movements stuttered, momentarily caught off-guard, as if it had anticipated a different decision. Monoffa paused, unsure for a moment what to make of the strange behavior. Then she shook her head as though to clear it and touched the skeleton, crackling blue-white energy dancing between her fingers. When she made contact with the skeleton's ribcage, there was a sharp CRACK as electricity arced through the ancient bones. The magical current found pathways through the mystical forces animating this undead creature, causing the skeleton to convulse violently. Small lightning bolts leapt between joints and vertebrae, illuminating the skeleton from within as the arcane electricity sought ground through its form. Several smaller bones blackened at the connection points where the energy concentrated most intensely.
"That was… odd," Monoffa muttered, ears twitching nervously. "It moved away exactly when I was thinking of changing targets. Almost like it was... listening to my planning."
As the skeleton convulsed from Monoffa's electrical assault, Wenthe moved into position, her alchemical bomb already in hand. She quickly threw it between the first two skeletons. It shattered, splashing the two of them. The one that was unaffected by Perx’s blinding glitter or Kere’s entangling vines managed to lurch free, but the bomb contents splashed on the other one, blackening bone where it struck.
Jenna darted in from the blind spot of the fiery skeleton that had attacked Perx, her rapier held with precision. Her footsteps echoed softly against the ancient flagstones as she sidestepped a partially collapsed offering table. The blade struck true between vertebrae, making a sharp clink that reverberated through the tomb's silence. Despite the perfect placement, the rapier's point didn't make much of an impact. The thin blade slid between the connections of bone, and while it disrupted the necromantic energies momentarily—causing a brief flicker in the flames dancing between its ribs—much of the potential damage was nullified as the skeleton's bones simply shifted and gave way rather than shattering. The skeleton staggered slightly, knocking loose a small funerary token that clattered across the floor, but quickly regained its footing, its unholy animation only partially disrupted by the precise strike. The heat radiating from its form momentarily fogged Jenna's vision as she retreated to a defensive stance. Uggh, she thought feeling the lack of effectiveness of her rapier. Guess I never put much thought into fighting undead growing up on the streets of Candibaru. Probably ought to pick up some kind of backup weapon.
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While Jenna's blade found its mark, Cali first found her senses again after the strike from the skeletal champion. Then she gathered her divine energy, waiting for the perfect moment to unleash it. When the moment was right, Cali called on the power of Tylarus to harm all of the undead in the room as she held her shield and its sun symbol aloft. Radiant light arced from her fingers to her shield and out through the holy symbol into the nine undead in the room. Although the champion skeleton, one of the fiery skeletons, and one of the brutes were able to somewhat resist the light, two of the ordinary skeletons and one of the burning ones faded into dust and blew away while scorch marks appeared upon the remaining brute and and skeletons, clearly weakening them.
Neric sidestepped the approaching skeleton and began his inspiring performance, his voice rising above the chaos of battle. “Courage is contagious, my friends! Hold steady against these abominations and show ‘em who’s boss!”
Neric's inspiring words bolstered the group's resolve just as the remaining undead pressed their attack with renewed fury. But the Halfling’s eyes suddenly widened when he spotted a yellowed skeleton circling toward Cali's blind side. “Watch your left!” he called, hoping she would have enough time to raise her shield.
The yellowed skeleton still caught in Kere’s vines, after a great deal of effort, finally managed to break free, the unholy blue light in its eyes flaring briefly as it succeeded. The other yellowed skeleton advanced toward Cali and took a swing at her with its rusty scimitar, but, thanks to Neric’s warning, the cleric held up her shield and dodged the blow.
Blinded by Perx's Glitterdust, one of the zombie-like brutes swung wildly, its massive arm whistling past Cali's face. She barely had time to exhale when the second brute—its vision unimpaired—shambled toward her with surprising speed. Claws extended, it closed the distance. Pain lanced through Cali as its jagged nails tore her upper arm. Blood welled beneath her torn sleeve, but she set her jaw and maintained her stance.
Cali's heart hammered against her ribs, each beat sending fresh pain through her wounds. Sweat stung her eyes and her arms felt increasingly leaden with each raised defense. As she met the crimson gaze of the skeletal champion, horrifying recognition dawned—this was no mindless undead. It tracked her movements with calculating precision, and she knew with grim certainty that her divine powers had marked her as its primary target. The tomb's chill seemed to deepen around her as the champion advanced. Every movement she made now could mean life or death. It made a vicious swing at her with its longsword, striking a blow to Cali’s torso, then immediately following it up with a shield bash to the right arm. Both blows collided solidly, and Cali’s eyes grew wide with fear, her face pale, as she absorbed the blows. Blood soaked through her robes as she struggled to maintain her stance. Her vision blurred momentarily from the pain, and she knew she couldn't withstand another such assault. “Need backup,” she managed to gasp through gritted teeth.
Kere quickly cast a spell on her quarterstaff, the wood darkening and hardening under her fingers as ancient magic flowed into it. She pivoted toward one of the yellowed skeletons and swung—but her footing slipped on the tomb's uneven stone, sending the blow wide. The skeleton's eye sockets seemed to mock her miss.
"We've got to protect Cali!" Jori's urgent call cut through the chaos as he assessed the cleric's worsening condition. With decisive steps, he positioned himself between the skeletal champion and his wounded companion, arrow already nocked.
Jori sized up the armored skeletal champion—its tarnished chain links rattling with each movement, the cracked helm with its once-proud crimson plume now swaying limply in the musty air. The undead warrior showed signs of battle—several chain links broken, bones visible through gaps in the armor, and its shield bearing the marks of previous attacks.
Jori inhaled slowly, the bowstring drawn tight against his cheek. Time seemed to slow as he tracked the skeleton's movement patterns, waiting for the precise moment when its guard shifted. There—an opening. He released on the exhale, fingers uncurling from the string in one fluid motion. The arrow cut through the stagnant tomb air with a soft whistle before punching through a weakened section of the ancient chainmail, striking precisely where a living opponent's collarbone would connect. The arrow pierced through, but much of its force dissipated as the bone structure shifted and gave way. The skeleton staggered slightly, its shield arm drooping lower. Not hesitating for an instant, Jori nocked a second arrow and loosed it before the first impact had even settled. This second shot flew true, striking the skeleton directly in the left eye socket of its cracked helm. The crimson plume shuddered violently as the arrow punched through what should be a killing blow on a living opponent.
Although the skeletal champion’s inherent resistance blunted some of the arrow's impact, its already weakened state proved fatal. The dark energies holding it together finally faltered. The skeleton froze mid-step, its longsword still raised for a strike that would never come. For a moment, it stood motionless–then collapsed with a cacophony of clattering bones and rattling chain links. The helm rolled away, coming to rest with its arrow-pierced eye sockets staring blankly upward, the plume settling in the dust as the unholy animation faded completely. Huh, thought Jori. I’m actually kind of surprised my arrows were actually able to take that thing down. I’m definitely going to have to pick up a bludgeoning weapon of some sort.
“Good one, Jori!” called Neric.
As the champion's remains settled into the dust, Perx took advantage of the momentary distraction to protect himself, beginning an incantation, words of magic flowing over his lips. Four other images of the wizard immediately materialized and the five shifted positions like the shells in a shell game, affording the real Perx a degree of protection from attacking enemies.
With an enthusiastic grin, Monoffa leaped over a fallen burial urn, using its curved edge as leverage to propel herself toward the massive brute untouched by Perx's spell. The tomb's stale air stirred with her movement, disturbing centuries of settled dust. She ducked beneath a low-hanging funerary banner, now tattered and gray with age, and darted in to press her fingers against the blackened muscle of the creature's forearm. Crackling blue-white energy arced through the hulking figure with a sharp report, the current easily finding pathways to the ground in the bloated gray-green flesh. Despite its size, the creature convulsed, small lighting bolts crackling across its form, leaving patches of blackened, burned skin in its flesh. This did not kill the creature, but it did weaken it.
Noticing the big brute that was affected by Perx’s Glitterdust advancing—albeit blindly—on Perx's flank, Wenthe quickly drank one of the extracts she’d prepared that morning. She then mixed a bomb and lobbed it at the brute to intercept it. Thanks to her extract, it did not splash, and the brute’s skin sizzled as the acidic substance ate into it, releasing the unpleasant odor of burning skin on top of the creature’s already foul stench of death. The zombie-like brute let out a howl of pain as the extra damage from the extract kicked in. As the substance continued to run down the brute’s body, its cries became weaker and weaker, until finally it slumped to the ground with a thud, all of its unholy unlife extinguished. Wenthe’s grin was fierce. “Perfect formula.”
Jenna looked around for something she could use as an improvised bludgeoning weapon. She saw a number of ancient braziers and some funerary offerings and burial goods scattered about, but none seemed appropriate to the purpose. She then advanced into a flanking position with Monoffa on the remaining zombie-like brute. With the kind of precision gained from long hours of practice, she expertly thrust her rapier between the ribs and into where the thing’s heart would have been in life. The brute howled in pain, but before long, it, too slid to the ground with a thud, no longer animated by the unholy magic.
With the hulking brute's attention fixed on Monoffa's lightning display, Cali seized her moment of reprieve and prepared to channel divine energy. A flicker of doubt crossed her mind—after taking such grievous wounds, will my connection to Tylarus remain strong enough for effective healing?
In that instant, her holy symbol felt unnaturally heavy in her grasp, the metal cooling to an impossible chill that bit into her palm. For a heartbeat, the divine light gathering at her fingertips dimmed, threatening to extinguish entirely.
Cali pushed through the strange resistance with renewed determination. The weight vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and divine energy washed over her companions in waves of healing light. Her own wounds sealed first—the gashes on her leg, torso, and arm closing as Perx's and Kere's injuries mended simultaneously. She exhaled with relief as the pain subsided somewhat, but a lingering unease remained. That moment of resistance... had it been real, or just her imagination?
Neric considered the scene around him for a moment thinking, Cali took a pretty big blow. I’d better shore us up a bit, because I KNOW we can do this! He then continued his oratory, speaking with bright eyes and an infectious enthusiasm: "Look around you! Not at the dangers—we all see those—but at each other! We have Cali, whose channeling is eating through these monsters like a yummy meal. We have Jenna whose skill with a rapier is doing more damage than Cali’s channeling even if it is only limited to one enemy at the time. And did you get a look at Wenthe’s big, beautiful, booming bombs? Especially that last one, eh?”
“TODAY is our moment! Not tomorrow, not 'someday'—right NOW! These skeletons? They're just bone and magic. But us? We're flesh and blood and FIRE! They fight because they must. We fight because we CHOOSE to! So choose greatness! Choose victory! Choose to be the heroes you already ARE!" He finished with a fist pump to the sky for emphasis.
He then unleashed a scream powerful enough to have made the entire room wince, but it was audible only to one of the remaining yellowed skeletons, and it froze for a moment, its bones vibrating slightly with the intensity of the sound. The skeleton stiffened and tried to resist, but failed. The bones collapsed, clattering against stone. The unholy blue glow in its eye sockets flickered once, and then died.
With the burning skeletons and the champion gone, Kere squared up her grip on her magic-infused quarterstaff and advanced toward the remaining yellowed skeleton, using both hands to swing at it. She eyed the thing, determining where she wanted to hit, then swung at the skeleton’s pelvis. The blow was a strong one, if not quite the strongest she was capable of, and the light animating the skeleton’s eye sockets snuffed out as its bones clattered to the ground. Kere gave a grunt of satisfaction, thinking, By Tekiro of the oceans, landing a killing blow on that thing sure felt good!
