“Command elements ready to evacuate. Northern safehouse in Barrowlake prepared. Meltonian contact assures security and safety procedures followed. Army group sized undead elements sighted around Eichafen and easterly directions. Advise caution and request additional reconnoiter of nearby locales before proceeding. All non-essential operations recalled. Situation Starfall.“

- Reconnaissance Report: 254-A4 - Emergency Advisory - Field Sergeant Archibald Wilde

Sophie opened her eyes to a puddle of blood and flung backwards in a start. A searing pain wracked her skull once more and she staggered around limply as she got her bearings. The mist had descended in force after the blue flash and hung heavily around her, the dampness pressing her toward the earth. Wha…what was I trying…to do? She clutched at her head as a sudden tingling sensation spread throughout her chest. Why…does it hurt? Droplets of rain splattered gently on her skin as a strange heat overtook her body. A fever? Her chest tightened as she looked around, her mind scrambling to piece together what had happened.

Around her lay scores of discarded bones, flesh and husks of what were once fearsome undead creatures strewn haphazardly throughout the ruin. Tents, supply crates and other equipment from the expedition remained mostly intact, though the ones by the barricade were trampled into the ground. That’s right! The barricade!

The charred monster had pushed past and sighted her, alerting the horde to her position and sending the entire crowd smashing into the watchtower. Though it had survived the initial assault, with the way it wobbled she knew she had to climb out. But then…I…ugh! She dropped to the floor on one knee as pain flared up from her chest, her breath growing raspy before she could steady herself. Focus forward, I can do this! With a burst of resolve she pushed herself back up and followed the wall.

As her brain slowly clicked, she shuddered from the next memory, and then I…I found the horse. She had leapt from the tower onto a small segment of Myndiri wall before a brick gave out and sent her careening over the wall and into the ground. Of the horses that the expedition had most had broken away and escaped during the initial onslaught, but her poor mount was so laden with gear packs that it remained tied to its post, neighing in fright and constantly tugging at the rope. Though she cursed horses till the end of time for the suffering they put her through, she remembered pulling out Wilfred’s sabre and slashing the rope in two, freeing the mount and jumping out of the way as it galloped away.

Thunder boomed nearby and Sophie squeaked out in fright, throwing nervous glances all around anticipating the dead to rise once again. She remembered the mad dash away only to be stopped by the appearance of more undead from the woods surrounding the ruins, forcing her to retreat towards the charred abomination. Ugh! A sudden pain flashed once more from her chest and she clutched at the soft jacket that enveloped her, embracing the smoothness in an effort to distract from the pain. Argh…it…smooth…but when?

As she panted wordlessly, she clutched the jacket in her palm and stared down at it. This isn’t…agh…it isn’t mine… But her thoughts were washed away by another thunderous crack that left a charred in between the tents nearby. Indoors…need to…get indoors. She heaved and hawed as she made her way past the bodies, decaying flesh and fresh corpses alike all slowly being covered by a muddy slurry as they poised to become another part of history. So…little…air…must…breathe.

Stepping over the threshold and intro the ruined entryway down into the tunnels below, she spied more signs of combat. Scattered bones, scratches on the walls, and the faint smell of iron filled the stairs in front of her and for a brief moment she debated if it was best to just turn. Where the damned saints did everyone go? Stellesia guide me. She swallowed back the alternative option, and focus on the fact that this ruin looked extensive, large enough perhaps for many to hide behind nooks and crannies and survive an undead onslaught. That’s right, everyone’s just holding up somewhere, waiting for the signal to show up again, that’s right.

Though the stairway down was nerve wrackingly claustrophobic, the walls barely wide enough for two side by side and a deep sense of unease crawled its way into her spine. Her hairs standing on end as the unrelenting desire to turn back clawed desperately back up to the entrance. One small step after another and soon the dusty sound of a faint breeze drowned out the downpour just beyond. It was as if she had stepped into another world entirely as she reached the end of the stairway and stepped out onto the T-junction that began almost a foot past the last step. Dusty damp yellow stone bricks were draped over with an eerie pale shade of blue magefire from the haphazardly placed sconces throughout the corridors and she couldn’t help but feel as if it was more an invitation to a slow silent death than anything else.

“Hello? Umm a-adventuer err assistant of Silver ranked team Runebound…reporting for duty!” She shouted down the corridor, her voice echoing surprisingly far downwards in spite of the poor stonework around her. Though poor might’ve been an exaggeration considering how even in this era, they still had her properly frightened of what lay beyond her vision.

She prayed for a reply, but with only silence and the occasional dripping of moisture as a response she took in a brave breath and advanced down the left hallway. Here, the sobering realities of warfare reared its ugly head, whilst she could avoid the remnants above ground, inside the ruin they were far closer than she was comfortable with. A smashed wooden barricade feebly guarded the path ahead as the contingent of mercenaries and expeditionaries lay in slaughtered heaps, their corpses mauled into pieces as bits of bone, flesh and sinew remained attached at odd angles.

Regretting her life choices she stifled a gag and hurried past the barricade, and kept following the corridor turning right as she rounded a corner. More bodies lay strewn about the place, but with a much larger proportion of them being composed of the necrotic skinwalkers instead, a hopeful sign at least. Unfortunately, though the dead were mangled, the undead were rotted to begin with, and in her carelessness she strode bravely through the choke point only for the sickening stench of the dead to invade her nostrils. Fuck! Pushing her tired body along she dashed past the area and just followed the long hallway, ignoring the little doors and rooms that began springing up to her left and right.

Faint glimmer of torchlight burned a small orange beacon for her to follow at the end of the hallway and for once she had never been so relieved to see a torch. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway and despite the relief at seeing normal torches the fear of something else being inside the ruins slowed her movement to a crawl. Placing one foot carefully in front of the other, she slowed to a crawl as the orange glow grew closer.

A faint groaning noise snuck its way over and Sophie froze mid step, trying to triangulate the source of the sound. Pulling out her sabre, she winced from the schling that seemed to bounce off of every wall in the ruin. Holding her position, she squinted ahead and tried to make out what lay ahead. Judging by the shadows, the torches seemed to illuminate what used to be a large set of double doors, now just smashed rubble blocking the way.

Drawing on her experience in the estate, she had a startling realisation that this wasn’t just some ruin. It was likely an ancient Myndiri manor or castle, the strangeness of the stair making more sense as the long featureless corridors weren’t meant for visitors, they were the servants quarters and passageways. Astralis protect me, Stellesia guide me, she dipped her head reverentially, I haven't even seen what’s down the other corridor yet. Looking over her shoulder to make sure nothing was behind her, she took a deep breath and continued her advance.

So the rooms behind me were likely the servants quarters, warehouse and probably a small storage for cleaning supplies judging by the lack of mechanical pipes, connectors or anything like that. Which means the kitchen, pantry and food supplies would likely be in the hallway I didn’t explore, so that would lead to the dining room and so this…would be an entrance zone or ballroom? She frowned at the thought and tried to visualize how everything would have worked before breaking out into a small giggle. Then again the Myndiri fell thousands of years ago so no telling how they cooked their food or supplied themselves, although if the sconces on the walls are any sign and history is to be believed, lots and lots of magic. I wonder if Eva would like to try a magefire cooked steak?

Another distant groan focused her back on reality and she gripped the hilt of her sabre tightly, now or never. She tried carefully climbing up the pile of rubble, wincing at every rock or plank that got dislodged and clattered loudly down to the ground. Easy now, don’t want to wake anything. With another huff she heaved herself up to the top and slowly poked her head over the lip and gazed into the room.

It was almost like she had entered a different world completely, a massive hall stretched for dozens of meters, its stone and marble pillars though damaged from the passage of time, stood resilient and proud as it boggled her mind for someone to build such a structure underground. So this is Myndiri architecture, she tried whistling to herself, massive pillars, what looks likely to be a court or great hall, with a few annexes to the side. Why is all this underground? A small raised platform of stone stood empty nearby, whatever throne or function long since decayed but the message was clear, whoever sat there definitely could look down at the people alright.

To her disappointment the orange flames were also magefire, as evidenced by the almost repetitive and formulaic way in which the flames flickered. Though having a fire which burned without wax, wick, or wood besides the iron holders probably had a little to do with her conclusion. For a brief moment she was lost in the wondrous grandeur of this underground throne room, a room fit to fit three bears on top of each other on their hind legs, the tapestries, jewels and treasures which would have decorated the hall. The supplicants that would come to plead their cases to their Myndiri liege, though many suffered greatly at the hands of the Myndir, perhaps this one built this fortress underground to hide their difference from their peers. Perhaps this Myndiri lord was a kind one, and sat in his raised throne he would sneer publicly at the people whilst treating their servants kindly when the dignitaries left.

Beyond her entry point she could see another destroyed doorway across the hall from her, and what appeared to be another doorway further down, just outside her view range. As her gaze finally traveled upwards, she found a curved ceiling that likely held murals once upon a time, but now only vines and weathered stone remained on the dimly lit ceiling.

Seeing no immediate threat she threw herself over the rubble and hopped to the ground with a loud thump as she landed. Pausing to try and hear any reaction to the noise she made, waiting for a minute before continuing. Trying to ignore the gnawing feeling that something was watching her.

Within the great hall, signs of a campsite became more apparent to her as the ashes blended in with the decrepit stone flooring blended in with the colours of the stones until she got close enough to tell them apart. Just how long was I blacked out for?

She furrowed her brows as she tried to force her memories to restart. Fall from tower, run, find horse, ahh! And then I kept running until I bumped into the scholar. In her panic to flee from the undead as they closed in she had circled around the ruin, hoping to dislodge her immediate pursuers and lure the guardians away from the entrance to the ruins. It was more due to misfortune than luck that she had stumbled onto him after crashing through a few tents and practically fell into his tent as she dodged a strike nearby.

She remembered his vicious and hate filled gaze when she stumbled inside, how he shifted into a defensive posture and got ready to spear her with his blade. Taking the hint, they wordlessly circled one another for what felt like a minute before she wordlessly crawled back out from his hiding place and tried making a mad dash toward the entryway. But before she could, she remembered a sharp pain in the back of her head and collapsing to the ground, the last image that etched itself onto her mind was the sly grin of the scholar. Fucking knave, she growled and realised with anger that because of him, she had no idea what had happened. No clue why everything was already over or where anyone was.

She pulled herself out of her stupor once again and pushed on through, scurrying across the great hall into the doorway opposite. This should lead to the royal quarters or at least somewhere important, the first entrance was the servants quarters, that means the one next to it would be the dining hall, and the one opposite that where the guest rooms would be.

Just a little more, she reassured herself. It was clear she had chosen the right path. Despite the lack of bodies, the amount of viscera and gore left behind alongside the haphazardly scattered nature of weapons lying on the floor told her all she needed to know. Yet despite not hearing a sound, she advanced at a snail's pace. Whereas the servant’s tunnels were just shy of being claustrophobic, here it was the opposite. With ceilings as high as only two bears standing on top of each other with their hind legs and as wide as four goats side by side, she felt uncomfortably exposed as she traveled through here.

To her it looked like this area would once have had countless fineries lying in wait to ambush unsuspecting guests. Perhaps a carpeted floor, soft and fuzzy, flanked by pedestals filled with an assortment of trophies and artifacts as well as dozens of paintings lining the walls. She could imagine that the magefire would be far brighter, servants skilled in magic re empowering the lights as dignitaries or nobles walked on by. But when her eyes zoned back into the dim hallway, the eerie sense of loneliness quickly returned and wrapped its invasive claws around her.

Mossy, gray stones and dank corridors were all that greeted her. Whatever fancy doors that once existed had long since rotted away and more than a few rooms had already collapsed under the weight of the ground above. The empty hallways however, soon gave way to shattered barricades and judging by the various pieces of modern armour lying on the ground, she knew she was headed in the right direction.

It didn’t take long before the metallic scent of iron and rot invaded her senses once more and she struggled not to gag in revulsion. Holding her breath she carefully skulked through the ruins until small groans echoed from just beyond the doorway. Undead! She stifled a gasp and found herself looking at what seemed to be a trail of bodies. Misshapen skinwalkers and scattered bone piles were what greeted her at first.

Praying that nothing would suddenly spring up she swallowed her fear and skirted past the detritus and crossed the threshold into the room.

She held back a horrified gasp as she took in the sight in front of her. A large room, possibly a war room, sat wrapped in a blanket of carnage as her eyes passed by the shattered and smashed pillars, walls and bricks scattered across the war room. Barricades criss crossed the room in a million pieces, victims of blunt force trauma as more than a few were split right down the middle. Bodies lay desecrated in uneven piles, some torn asunder with missing limbs and organs as others remained impaled where they stood. Surrounding them, a field's worth of undead corpses lay crushed under the weight of their comrades as little mounds of the dead occupied strategic positions in front of the barricades. It’s like someone fought a war here.

Signs of life were almost non-existent as she spied a broken part of the wall, almost like a bull had smashed it into little pieces and barrelled through the room. The warpath was clear as she followed the trail of corpses, metallic armour once shiny or slightly muddied now splattered in a red tint. Revulsion churned through her and she felt sick to her stomach, these were all…people… but as if working in tandem with her suffering another lance of pain pierced through her and she let out a cry of pain, the motion opening her up to the full bevy of disgusting smells. Gagging and grunting out in pain, a slight squelching noise drew a glance upwards and the origin of the groans presented itself.

A large skinwalker, draped over with the fresh skin of its victims, the blood still flowing freely from the extracted organs attached to it. In its arms a still sentient mercenary groaned as the creature greedily snacked on the poor soul, biting chunks out of him every time it got hungry. With an annoyed gurgle, perhaps out of curiosity or disappointed at its meal the skinwalker's beady eyes met Sophie’s gaze and froze in its step.

Stellesia save me! She cried out and quickly scrambled backwards only to trip over her own feet and land in the loving arms of a mercenary with their throat ripped apart. But her movement was not taken alone, the monster had seen her scrambling and dashed its snack’s head against the wall, sending blood and bone fragments flying as the man’s groaning was instantly silenced. The sickening crunch and viscera splattered onto her and she jumped back onto her feet, her stomach and chest still crying out, slowing her down.

With a guttural roar the skinwalker charged forward and swiped its meaty arms, scattering the remains in front of it in a mad frenzy. Sophie ducked under its swipe and pivoted around it, landing a quick slice that only seemed to anger the creature. Swinging back around the creature grabbed a mercenary’s corpse and swung it at her wildly, missing her by an inch only for her to slip in a panic.

“Shit!” She swore out loud and quickly rolled away as the monster slammed the corpse down like a club, another sickening crunch of bone and metal as it met the ground. Taking advantage of the opening she scrambled past a few more bodies and kicked a stray helmet at the creature. Perhaps irritated at prey that resisted, it gave a bone chilling roar and charged forward.

Looking for an opening Sophie could only dodge the attack as she passed by another set of corpses, the mercenaries now surrounded by more of the dead. A last stand. She tried ignoring the small knot that twisted inside her, the thought that her friends might be here scared her and in a moment of weakness she failed to avoid the next attack.

Though she dodged the initial blow, a mistimed back step saw her foot getting tripped by the corpse’s flailing arms and she fell down in a heap. Her horror only grew as the skinwalker followed up and smashed a meaty fist down on her, pieces of flesh and blood spraying all across as it slammed downward.

She felt her ribs break from the impact and all the air within her was sucked out. Her whole body jolted in pain and with a whimper she barely managed to claw herself away from the next blow as the skinwalker seemed surprised it had managed to get a blow in. Wheezing from the impact she looked up to find the creature’s monstrous maw of a mouth twisted in an upturned grin.

Bringing the corpse around it swung it at her once more and Sophie found herself increasingly pressed into a retreat as she dodged backwards once again. Walking over another pile of corpses she spared but a small prayer for how she disrespected their rest and saw the creature’s corpse club finally disintegrate into a jellified mess after the viscous blow. Gripping her sabre tightly she dashed forward and finally counterattacked. With two cuts she slashed into the skinwalker and dislodged a fresh fleshy patch to reveal the rotted necrotic skin below.

Pustules and bulbous bits of rot burst at the exposure and this time the creature roared in pain. Glaring at Sophie with hateful beady eyes she watched in horror as it picked up two stray spears and twirled them maliciously in its hands. WIth what she could only assume was a smirk it launched itself forward in a whirlwind. Sophie deftly deflected the first blow with her sabre and sidestepped the second, throwing herself at the creature and getting a good cut in at the skinwalker's underside. A small torrent of rotten bile and bone poured out from the wound and in a rage the creature smashed a spear and chucked its remains at her.

It flew past her by a wide margin and she once again faced off with the skinwalker. Its almost cocksure and hungry gaze replaced by a look that radiated nothing but malice. Hatred poured out from its mouth as another roar signaled the creature’s charge. Spitting forth some blackened bile mixed in with necrotic flesh Sophie again sidestepped, only to immediately raise her blade in a desperate attempt to block the remaining spear. But her surprise and hesitancy was all it needed.

As she lifted her arms the creature’s second arm swung past the pile and held her in a vice grip, lifting her in the air. As it squeezed she let out a gasp of pain, compounding with the lingering hurt she already felt, her hands let go of the sabre and it clattered to the floor. Struggling to pry herself from its grasp she widened her eyes in horror as it moved to pound her into the ground.

Without a warning she felt a sickening crack as it slammed her to the floor below. Jagged pieces of floor and armour tearing into her skin as the impact threatened to shatter all her bones. Weakly grabbing at the fallen sabre she felt another jolt run through her body as the skinwalker smashed its fists into her once more. Wracked with pain she screamed and managed to push her strength into her arms and swung the sabre upwards.

The blade swung true and embedded itself into the side of the creature’s head, but not far enough. As muscle and sinew bled black blood, a viscous grin overtook the creature's face. Terrified, Sophie could only watch as time slowed down and the maw opened up to reveal sets of jagged, ghastly teeth meant only to rend flesh from bone. Missing skin and bone tore themselves open as it only seemed to get larger and larger, the mouth now open enough to swallow her head whole. Rot and bile dripped onto her and in her final moments she could feel a small trickle of liquid run down her leg as the end drew closer. But before the maw closed around her she watched in surprise as something smashed into its head and the skinwalker reared backwards in pain, parts of its skull shattered, fragments of bone and pus dusting over her.

Sensing her moment she lifted her battered body and summoned every last drop of energy to pull the sabre out and slash at its head once again. Success came at a cost though, and as she grinned maniacally at the blade cutting past the stump of the creature’s neck she felt another jolt run through her body. With one last angry howl that faded into a whimper as it died, an arrow sticking out of its face.

Yet as she tried to face her benefactor she found herself rooted in place and found the spear having planted itself firmly through her chest. A small dampness welled up between her breasts and she limply ran her hands up and down the spear shaft as the shock slowly wore off. I…I’m going to die…I’m going to die? Staring at her newly acquired wound her nerves finally caught up as the pain of the spear thrusted through her finally processed and she wailed in pain.

“...Soph…ie…Sophie…?” Touch

A quiet voice droned on from somewhere but she couldn’t pay attention, she tried in vain to dislodge the spear only to seize up as it jiggled and more blood poured out of the opening. No…no…please…I still need to urrk...do so much.

‘Sophie…ngh…Sophi…” The

The pained voice echoed once again and again, she could not respond, her body still in shock. Staggering forward a few steps she found herself bumping into a broad, short set of armour, the body within nothing but an unrecognisable pulpy mess. Huh? Why…does it…seem so familiar?

“So…phie!...Sophie!” Dawn

The echo in her head drew her forward another step as she took her last steps, one eye turned towards a raised platform, one at the gaping wound in her chest. Fragments of something shattered lay scattered amidst the bodies, a trail of blood weaving through in between as the body of an older man, beard covered in blood and shattered spectacles as he clutched desperately onto something with a death grip.

“Sophie!” Embrace, thine awakening!

A monstrous roar buffeted her mind and she did as told and reached down to pry the man’s possession, only mildly aware of the bolt that likey brought him to an untimely end. Red splotches filled her vision as the aching pain pulsed rapidly, her strength fading as she opened his palm to find a small blue piece of crystal, now covered in blood, glowing radiantly blue.

Thy dawn, has come!

I can’t feel anything anymore, I feel…nothing but cold…so cold. She rasped out a few more pained breaths and took the crystal fragment in her hand and watched in awe as it came to life, filling the room with a very slight blue as it pulsed outwards. Like a chain reaction, all the smaller fragments joined the choir and as her eyes threatened to close, she watched as they danced around a darkness that materialised within the blue. And all grew dark.

Well done.

“Sophie!” A familiar voice cried out, then, all was finally quiet.