When the sun rose the next morning, Ihra and Jasper were already waiting at the northern gate. Despite his lack of sleep, Jasper was wide awake. A spirit of adventure filled the air, and he felt as if the very colors of the world were more vibrant. Ihra shared his excitement, practically bouncing in her saddle as they waited on Lady Aphora.

The guild expedition was there as well, a group of a little more than twenty. Seasoned veterans, the group failed to reciprocate Jasper's excitement. This was a recurring mission for the guild and one that many avoided. The undead in the city could not be permanently killed, only temporarily banished to the dimension where their souls were trapped, so the guild had to return to the ruins year after year to cull their numbers. Because the system didn't consider them to be truly dead, the wraiths provided poor amounts of experience, despite being deadly opponents. Unfortunately, the guild couldn't just ignore the ruins; whenever the number of monsters got too high, they would start to wander out of the city, attacking nearby farms and villages. Thus, the guild was forced each year to harass and harangue a group of veterans to make the trip, paying them well above the going rate to recompense them for the poor experience.

But the guilders' lack of enthusiasm did not dampen Jasper's spirits. Still, the minutes stretched on as they waited for the elves, and he grew increasingly uncomfortable sitting in his saddle. Checking the road again, only to see it still empty, Jasper hopped off his pony. He rubbed her head gently, as he fed Dapplegrim a few sugar cubes. The little horse eagerly devoured them, bumping her head into his shoulder as she nudged at his bag. He laughed and tousled her mane. "That's enough, Dapple. If you eat all my sugar now, there will be no more for you later."

He couldn't tell if the horse actually understood him, but she did draw back from the bag, resting her head against his shoulder with a little neigh.

His patience was beginning to wear thin, when the elves, or more accurately, the elf finally arrived. To his surprise, only Lady Aphora emerged through the gates. She rode a giant black stag, whose great silver horns swept out farther than Jasper's outstretched arms, and was dressed in the same provocative - and impractical - sheer gown that she had worn in the elven compound. As her stag cantered up to the group, she ignored the guild party entirely, simply addressing Jasper and Ihra.

“I’m ready to depart.”

Despite the muttered grumbles Jasper heard amongst many of the guild members - no doubt annoyed by the elf’s late arrival and dismissive attitude - the group departed without incident. The trip to Als̆arratu proved to be even longer than the expedition to Yar-Khennor, but fortunately the journey was easier. The city lay on the far side of the mountain range, in territory that technically belonged to the province of West Corsythia. But, in its heyday, the city had established a flourishing trading route with Gis̆-Izum. A paved road had been constructed between them, and the queen had even paid a wandering mage to excavate a tunnel beneath the mountains, providing a quick and easy route from Gis̆-Izum.

The days passed quickly, as the group traveled fast and light through the highland forests. Each morning, the ground was covered in a thick layer of glistening hoarfrost that gradually melted beneath the sun’s warm rays to reveal the still green grasses below. The air was crisp and cool as early autumn encroached on the high plateau. The forest was filled with life; from every corner the warble and trill of birds rang through the air, while all manner of creatures slowly slunk away at their group's approach, cautiously watching them from afar. One evening Jasper even spied a pine marten - a creature he’d never gotten to see in the woods at home - curiously peeking at him through the foliage, and he wondered if this was how the forests at home had once been, before pollution and environmental destruction had ravaged them.

As the road ascended higher into the mountains, the air grew quickly colder. The trees slowly fell away, until at last the group broke into the open vistas above the tree line. There, the cold winds buffeted them relentlessly, and he found himself praying they would soon find shelter. It was a relief, then, when one afternoon, the expedition leader called for them to stop.

“The passage is just a little way further up the slope. I know many of you have already been there, but for those who haven't, the tunnel through the mountains is relatively short. It should only take a few hours to travel through, so we're going to stop for the night.”

Groans erupted from some of the group, Jasper among them, and the leader raised his hands to mollify them. "I know we all want to get out of the cold, but it's late afternoon already. If we go through the tunnel now, we’ll arrive at the city in the middle of the night. That's when all the wraiths and wights come out to play, so unless you all want to die - except perhaps for Lady Aphora here - we're going to stop. We'll get there tomorrow.”

The group quieted down, although a few grumbles could still be heard among the crowd. Lady Aphora watched from the side, and despite the amused look in her eyes raised no objections. The expedition began setting up their tents in a circle around a large fire. Jasper grabbed the tent they had purchased for the trip from Dapplegrim’s pack and hastened to find a spot by the fire before all the space had been claimed, but Aphora called him back. “We’re not staying here. Other accommodations await us.”

Curious, Jasper stuffed the tent back in its bag and hurried to catch up to the Lady and Ihra. They rode the short distance to the entrance into the mountain and vanished inside. The passage was dark, but blue lines along the floor and the ceiling cast a dim glow, lighting up the passage just enough to see. They rode less than a hundred feet into the passage, though now out of sight of the guild expedition, before Lady Aphora stilled her horse, dismounting in a graceful movement. The passage was smaller than the road outside, just wide enough to allow two small wagons to barely pass, and the walls and ceiling arched up in an almost circular shape that was eerily reminiscent of a subway. The Lady approached the wall, and after a moment’s searching, placed her hand on a section. After a moment, the rock beneath her hand began to glow. With the screech of rusty gears, a small opening in the walls appeared.

“Follow me.”

They led their horses through the narrow door. As they entered, torches along the walls flared into life, revealing a spacious cavern beyond. A small pond covered much of the cavern’s area, a gentle bubbling indicating the presence of a spring. Along one side of the walls, a stable had been hewn out from the rock face, and on the other, a two-story building rose.

“What is this place?” Jasper asked, unsure if the elf would respond.

“When Als̆arratu was thriving, the path under the mountain would see hundreds passing through every week. This was one of the guard stations, and unlike most of them, it still remains in good working order. My people always stay here when we venture into the city.”

Like the cave outside, the dwelling was lit by the same magical torches. Jasper examined them with curiosity. All the enchanted fire he had seen thus far was blue, or in a few rare cases, green, but these torches blazed with the same cheery red as a normal fire. If he had not seen the torches light themselves, he would not have believed that they were anything other than a normal fire, rather than an arcane facsimile. He carefully sketched out the runes that lined the rims of the torch - runes that also lacked the typical blue glow, and yet somehow were clearly working - and placed the notebook back in his bag. One of these days, he hoped he’d have time to learn how to read the runes, and, if possible, even use them.

There were plenty of rooms in the station, each still equipped with furniture in pristine condition, and Lady Aphora surprised them yet again by producing a virtual cornucopia of delicacies from her bag.

As he chowed down on succulent roast rib, he couldn't help himself. "Why haven't we been eating like this before? This is amazing!"

Aphora laughed, the merry sound washing over him like a charm. "Today's a special day. After all, we're finally within reach of the city."

When Jasper finally crawled into bed, stuffed to the gills, he began to understand why Ihra had said that private quests were the way to go. This is the life.

He was feeling less serendipitous a few hours later when Ihra shook him awake. “Get up. Lady Aphora said we need to get out of here before the expedition arrives.” With a groggy groan, he rolled to the floor, sprawling in a cozy heap of blankets and pillows.

She nudged him with her foot. “Get up!”

He pushed himself off the floor. “Alright, alright," he groused. "I’m coming.” Shaking the weariness from his eyes, Jasper quickly stuffed his belongings in his bag and joined them in the stables.

“Quickly now.” Lady Aphora hustled them out into the passageway, the walls closing behind them with a shudder. As they waited in the dimly lit darkness, the sounds of the expedition packing up echoed through the stone corridor. She turned to them, a serious look on her face. “You are not to mention this place to the guild, understood? This place belongs to my people, no one else.”

Jasper didn’t bother to respond but just tilted his head to the left in a sign of assent. When the expedition finally reached entered the passage, the guild leader looked around with a skeptical expression. “You just stayed here in the passage?”

Aphora ignored him, as her horse fell in line beside him. The passageway cut through the mountain in a straight, unwavering line, and if they were ascending, it was at an angle so slight that Jasper could not perceive it. They rode for an hour, the guild crew breaking the silence with one round after another of boisterous tavern songs.

The damsel fair, with bosom bare

Seduced many a man

She brought them home, fed them with care

And took them to her bed

And as they slept, the damsel fair

Removed her porcelain face

A song on her lips, a glow in her hair

She took them to their fate-

The song broke off as a scream pierced the air. Turning in his saddle, Jasper saw the screaming man smash into the wall with a sickening crunch. A dark shadow hovered over the man, as it viciously dug its face into his chest. The group exploded in chaos, as spells and weapons were flung at the creature by the panicked party members. Jasper watched in disbelief as his Sacred Star simply passed through the creature doing no harm.

BATLŪ.

Lady Aphora spoke in the tongue, forcefully stilling the group in an instant as the air around them chilled.

At her speech, the creature feeding on the man finally looked up. Its eyes glowed red, blood dripping from spectral fangs to the floor like a gruesome waterfall, with no other features discernible, aside from an endless black nothingness. A shiver ran down his spine when the creature locked eyes with him for a second.

And then the creature vanished.

Well, it tried to. As it started to fade from sight, Lady Aphora flung a gleaming silver chain toward the beast. The strand wrapped the creature’s ankle, and with a yank, she pulled the creature back into being.

QALÛ.

A spark of flame raced down the small chain, and when it reached the beast, it burst into flames. Screaming and thrashing, it tried to flee from the blaze, desperately pulling at the chain. Its hands burned as it touched out, and with a final anguished shriek, the creature fell to the ground as the inferno consumed it.

The group watched in stunned silence as Lady Aphora dismounted her horse and knelt beside the injured man. His neck had been torn open by the creature’s ravenous feeding, and far too much blood pooled around him. She removed a vial of powder from her bag and scattered it in a circle around the wounded man. She carefully traced runes into the powder, filling them with a whisper of her essence as they begin to glow. When the circle was complete, she twisted her hand as she spoke the spell.

In an instant, the pool of blood flowed off the ground, back into his veins as the torn flaps of skin knit themselves back together. Her hand blazing with silver fire, Aphora plunged it onto his neck. His screams echoed down the dark corridor as his flesh was seared with her cleansing fire. The pain too much to bear, the man passed out, and, after a few long moments, she finally removed her hand. She motioned for the guild members to help their wounded comrade, and stood up, looking to the guild leader.

“He should live. I tried to quench the darkness that infected him, but it is possible that some trace escaped my grasp, so be watchful. That was a qebru, the ravenous ghost of one not buried.” She frowned. "I'm surprised to see one here; they're usually quite rare."

Aphora paused, then grabbed the guild leader's hand, an intense light flaring in her eyes. “Let me be clear, though. If any of your members are bitten by one of those when I am not around, kill them. Immediately. They will turn and destroy you all.”

Two of the party members draped the wounded man, still unconscious, over one of their horses, and the group begin their march again. An air of paranoia hung over the group, and the boisterous songs were replaced by ever-watchful eyes and constant glances over the shoulder. Every shadow-draped corner was viewed as a potential threat, and Jasper did not breathe easy again until they finally emerged from the passage unharmed.

The passage opened out into a large valley, surrounded on all sides by the frozen mountain peaks. But the air in the valley was pleasant, not quite warm but far from the bitter cold outside, and the soft breeze that blew against his face felt as if it carried the first promise of an early spring. Scattered throughout the sparsely forested meadows, Jasper could see colorful hot springs gently bubbling, a canopy of steam rising above their surface.

But the natural beauty of the valley was nothing compared to the city that stood before them. Als̆arratu was, by Corsythian standards, a relatively short-lived city, only lasting for a few hundred years before its destruction. Plus, it had been founded, as he understood it, by a small faction of elves, so he hadn't expected much of the ruined city.

Instead, as they emerged from the passage at the base of the mountain, Jasper had to crane his neck back to even catch a glimpse of the city’s towering heights. Als̆arratu had been built into the side of the largest mountain, sprawling across its face to a truly dizzying height. The whole city was built of the same ivory-toned material that he saw in the elvish section of Gis̆-Izum. Three massive concentric walls wrapped around the town, dividing it into three roughly equal portions. Despite the city’s ruinous condition, the walls were still in such good condition that Jasper had no doubt that the city, if it had defenders, would still be an almost impregnable fortress. How did this city ever fall?

Perhaps the most striking feature of the city, however, was the sheer number of towers soaring into the sky. As he gaped in wonder at the city, the feeling in the air changed. An oppressive silence fell over the valley, and as he watched, ominous clouds gathered around the mountain peak. A cold rain drizzled began to drizzle down upon them, while a thick blanket of fog crept over the city. Slowly, the ruins of Als̆arratu were obscured from view, except for the towers, whose silhouettes loomed through the fog like a forest of bones. With a shudder, he looked away.

This is a place of death.