It took a while for them to reach their destination, but it was one that Sonja and Blackthorne knew well. The graveyard had proven to be a small treasure trove of trash items before, but they had not properly entered the tomb. It was known that it held multiple levels and that the monsters grew stronger and numerous the further down one went. While their total levels of power would not be too high, their sheer numbers would overwhelm an unprepared party.

Blackthorne finished up the last of his enchantments then passed out the blades. They had collected numerous weapons from the surface-dwelling zombies, but their equipment was cracked and rusted. He had not performed synergy to improve any of them as they were to be used as disposable trash weapons.

“It will be dark here soon. More zombies will come then, but from what I’ve heard they appear like it is always night,” said Sonja.

Blackthorne nodded to her then looked over to Branwen. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I’m happy to have you come along, but I don’t want you to think that you have to help us.”

She offered him a tentative smile. Her thoughts revolved around a desire to help him in any way possible, so he merely nodded to her then stepped into the entrance of the tomb.

The trio headed to the center of the burial ground without further molestation. There were no other zombies milling around on the surface after their quick one-sided sweep. When they reached a large dilapidated building, Sonja winked at Blackthorne then jogged ahead.

He blinked at her then tried to ignore the awesome image of Sonja running in that manner. She certainly looked comfortable in chainmail and leather.

“Should I?” asked Branwen in her thoughts.

“Nah. Let her have her fun. We will see plenty of fighting inside,” he replied mentally.

Out of the building poured six zombies, each wearing similar gear to their other recently deceased brethren. Sonja mowed through them like they were nothing since they foolishly stepped out into the sun.

Blackthorne and Branwen helped her loot the corpses then the little party entered the first burial chamber beyond. The entire area was nothing more than one large room with a few alcoves and a set of stairs at the back. The walls were lined with coffins and funeral urns. At the center, on a raised dais, was a single coffin surrounded by twenty zombies in formation. They wore ancient equipment as well, but even from the entrance it was easy to see that it was higher quality than the equipment worn by the zombies on the outside.

The undead raised their heads as a single unit when the trio reached the base of the entrance stairs. The five zombies in the front raised their shields and drew their swords. The vibe given off by the encounter was far different than that granted by fighting zombies on the surface. Clearly, these warriors meant business.

“Hey, let’s try something.” said Blackthorne.

“Hmm?” asked Sonja.

The dark mage stepped back up to the entrance and waved the girls over. They walked up to where he was then turned to look when he pointed at the small army of the dead. The zombies lowered their shields and sheathed their swords. They continued to look up at them, however.

He grinned then told them to wait there. He walked back down to the floor below, and the front rank raised shields once more. He stepped back a few steps and they lowered them again. He kept moving back and forth until he found the exact spot that the zombies reacted to his presence by raising their shields.

He stepped forward and they raised shields. He stepped back and they lowered them. Blackthorne began to giggle like a moron then stepped back and forth quickly while the zombies tried to keep time with his motions. The zombies started to moan a little, and it suspiciously sounded like a series of complaints.

Branwen drew her head back a little then politely covered her mouth. She tried her best, but she could not hide her snicker.

Sonja started to laugh. “Oh, that’s terrible...”

“Sorry, I just had to try that.” said Blackthorne.

The Valkyrie grinned at him then shook her head. “So playful...”

“Ready to do this? These guys seem a little better equipped than the others,” said Blackthorne.

“Yeah, they would be.” She gestured toward the undead soldiers then inclined her head. “They are an honor guard for that coffin, or so I have heard.”

“How often do people come through here?” he asked.

“Not often. People hate dealing with the undead, and most of what you can get here is garbage since it’s still a low-level area,” she said.

He nodded to her then decided that they had engaged in enough random commentary while they stood in full sight of twenty armed zombies. It was rude to them, and they were still waiting patiently after all.

“How do we do this though?” asked Sonja. She had not had enough of the commentary portion of their adventure, it seemed.

“I don’t know? We could just run in while screaming a battle cry or something,” said Blackthorne.

“Good... but what battle cry?” she asked him.

Branwen also looked toward him curiously. She could not do much in the way of producing war cries at the moment that did not sound unintentionally ridiculous, but she did want to know what he might deem to be normal.

“Whatever pops into your head, I guess,” said Blackthorne.

“Right, let’s do this!” exclaimed Sonja with excitement.

Blackthorne and his temporary slave-tank stepped forward. They raised up their weapons and then shouted the first thing that came to mind.

He cried out, “Sparta!”

She cried out, “Pancakes!”

They glanced at each other for a moment then shrugged before they started running forward. Neither knew why the other would cry out such a name. Branwen looked at them for a moment then shook her head and gave chase.

The zombies sprang into action. They moved with slightly more speed and grace than their surface wandering brethren.

Blackthorne and Sonja drew the zombies away from the coffin and began the assault. They skirmished with the monstrosities for a moment and took down several of them, but their numbers were a bit higher than they could handle at once when grouped en masse. A few of their attacks leaked through, though the damage was negligible.

He called out, “Fall back to the stairs!”

Sonja cleaved a zombie soldier in half then shield-bashed another back so that it was knocked into the closest of its compatriots. She hopped back then ran off to join her master. The zombie soldiers followed them slowly but stopped when the fleeing duo left the building. Branwen caught up with them a moment later, a new shield in her hands.

She looked askance toward him and he grinned at her. “Just seeing how strong these things really are. It’s only the top floor, after all.”

Blackthorne poked his head back in and noticed that the zombies were slowly returning to formation. Sonja peaked in as well then pointed to the wall on the left. Several coffins opened and zombies began to crawl out. The adventurer’s watched for a moment then looked at each other. They had both slain four of the zombies apiece. Twelve new zombie soldiers made their way over to take their place.

“Hey, I have an idea,” said Blackthorne.

“Oh?” said Sonja.

He nodded at her then pointed at the walls. There had to be at least fifty or even sixty coffins. They would no doubt win such a battle despite the numbers, but even when faced with twenty of the zombie soldiers at once there was a tiny sliver of danger.

Blackthorne said, “We can try to kill off their reinforcements before we take on the main task force. If they don’t have replacements, we can just skirmish with them until they all die.”

It was not the plan of a foolish, but epic, hero. Branwen did not seem to care either way. However, it made great sense to Sonja. “Sounds good, want to clear the left side first since they already used some zombies from there?”

He nodded to her then the trio went back inside and headed off toward the left. It might have gone faster to split their forces, but it was safer if they did not. There was no reason to be sloppy just because their enemy was not up to the task individually. If desperate, a large pack of wolves could take down a grown bear.

They pulled the lid off the first stone casket then looked inside. There was nothing but moldering bones and skittering insects.

“They mean to rob the great lord! Death to the desecrators!” screamed out a voice from within the coffin. A ghostly image that was vaguely human rose up from the bones within.

Dozens of gravelly voices roared out, “Death to the desecrators!”

Instinctively, Blackthorne lashed out with his short sword. The weapon did no damage, but the enchantment flared out anyway. The ghostly warrior screamed in agony then faded away.

They had no time to celebrate their surprising victory. Physical damage was completely useless as a means of holding back the spectral warriors. Only magic would suffice. They would quickly run out of enchantments in this tomb. Given the number of specters rising to join the battle even the two dragons might not have enough life force to put them all down.

Blackthorne turned to Sonja and said, “Run.”

They made an effort to reach the entrance to the tomb. Before they could reach safety, ghostly warriors rose up all around them.

The background music had previously been a soft, but creepy tune that was easily ignored due to the ambiance. It bespoke low moans and a forlorn wind. That unnerving melody shifted into a far more dangerous and forbidding tune just before it flared into a wild and raucous heavy metal soundtrack via the screech of a guitar. Drums pounded in the background with furious energy as an epic battle began.