9 -- Darkened Hallways [Story]

"Down the stairs -- there are some tunnels and then another set of stairs," Balgron explained. Madeleine, her warblade pressed against Balgron's back, looked over the fat goblin's fleshy mottled shoulder. He had brought them back to a door in the first room they had entered. Upon opening it an overpowering odor of damp rot greeted their nostrils and in front of them discolored stairs led down into cold darkness.

"Wing, quit playing with that wand and give us some light," Madeleine snapped, irritable from her unease.

With a start, Wing put the wand they had found in Balgrom's chest into his belt. Waving his hand and invoking one of the earliest learnt of his incantations, he conjured into existence a bright light at the foot of the stairs, illuminating a plain stone hallway stretching into the darkness beyond. They descended.

Moving in the dim illumination provided by Wing's magic light and a torch held by Farad, Madeleine almost missed the strange designs inscribed into the floor. "Stop!" she said roughly, pulling on the rope leash that led to the bindings on Balgrom's wrists. Balgrom stumbled to a stop. "What are those?" she demanded.

"Just decoration, see ..." Balgrom stepped forward. He stepped on the symbol. Nothing happened.

"Don't move!" Madeleine warned him. He stopped.

Wing stepped forward and knelt down to take a closer look, but after a moment he stood up and shook his head. "The fat little goblin might be right or he might not. I don't recognize them. Are they clerical?"

Farad looked hard at the runes gave an indeterminate sound. "I do not know." Bailyn rolled his eyes at Madeleine at the response.

"They are nothing. Look ..." Balgrom jumped up and down on the symbol. Madeleine cursed. "Stop moving!"

With surprising speed for his girth, Balgrom grabbed the rope and yanked, Madeleine stumbled and stepped forward.

A throat tearing scream exploded from the floor, answere by low, hungry moans coming from the dark. Madeleine was gripped by an icy chill and overcome by a compulsion to flee. Unable to control herself she ran, her comrades following suit. Behind her she could hear Balgrom's laugh, but it was drowned out by a high pitched keening that it took her a second to realize was her own voice, screaming. She fled.

* * * *

The compulsion to flee left Madeleine and the others at the same time, leaving them at the foot of the stairs they had initially descended. But they were no longer alone. Humans, clearly long dead, shambled into their midst, the dim radiance of Farad's torchlight illuminating grimacing corpse-like visages and clawed bony hands.

In the dark amidst the walking dead Madeleine felt a pang of fear. But it did not prevent her instincts from coming into play and she found solace in the familiar comfort of her leather hilted warblade. The creatures were disgusting, but slow, and one fell in a few short slashes and thrusts. Naruel and Wing made short work of several smaller ones.

"Back to the pit, abomination!" roared Farad, and his warhammer shone with holy light. Pieces of rotted flesh sprayed everywhere and a corpses' skull went flying into the dark; despite its larger girth its headless body crashed to the floor from the massive blow. Inspired, the rest of the group brought weapons to bear against their opponents.

* * * *

While his eyes could see in the dimmest of light, Balgrom could not see in the dark. But Balgrom knew these hallways well; he hid in a room he knew to be empty of the undead guardians that Kalarel had set up within. His initial glee at seeing the adventurers' run had faded after the sounds of battle had quickly ended and were replaced by the stomp of feet that he knew to be of his recent captors instead of the shuffling gait of the unliving.

There was suddenly light outside the room, its magical luminescence illuminating a portion of the chamber. Balgrom cursed silently. They must have heard him. He knew there was no way back upstairs without going through them. The only chance was to run and try to get to the lower level. Most likely the disdainful hobgoblins would torture or even kill him, but there was still a chance of mercy, whereas he could expect very little from the adventurers.

Balgrom dashed into the hall. He was chilled to the bone by an icy cold as a bluish bolt of ice slammed into him and he found it hard to move. If it provided any comfort, it dulled the pain as the naked fat goblin shuddered from the impact of arrows into his flesh. A crossbow bolt crashed harmlessly above him. He kept running as best he could, his legs moving slowly from the ice and cold. As he rounded the corner, the dragonborn and the dwarf were waiting.

"Wait," the goblin gasped, spitting blood and saliva from bluish lips. "I can help you. Have mercy ..."

There was none given.

* * * *

Lord Padraig waved off Valthrun's offer of a goblet of wine and rested his hand on the mantle above the fireplace in Salvana's private meeting room, bent over with worry. Outside the door he could hear the commotion of the villagers demanding to see him, combined with the shouting of his guards to stay calm and be quiet.

"Can we not dispell this? Or exorcise them away?" Padraig demanded, turning around to look pointedly first at Valthrun and then at Sister Linora.

"I am a scholar, not a wizard," Valthrun protested, "and Sister Linora can only call forth simple healing spells, not the type of divine judgment necessary to purge us of this evil."

"Besides, how can you send us into the graveyard when your own armed men have been torn limb from limb ..." Sister Linora said in a quavering voice.

"Ah, I wish Madeleine and her friends were here," muttered Padraig.

"How do you know they did not cause this problem?" responded Thair, the town's blacsmith "After all, they disappeared last night, which is when the grounds keeper went missing, and now we are beset with undead. Perhaps they caused this ..."

"Nonsense," hissed Ninaran, leaning forward from her chair, causing Thair to fall into silence. No longer in the deep shadows, the silver eyed gaze of the elf bore into those at those of her fellows, "While I had my doubts about them, by killing the kobolds they have clearly shown themselves to be valuable allies. I believe I saw them last night leave for the keep -- to investigate the disappearance of Lord Keegan perhaps."

"All the more reason to believe they have caused this problem, even if unintentionally. Whatever foul evil corrupted our former lord may have been waken, and caused these abominations to haunt our graveyard," Thair pointed out. There were murmurs of assent from around the table.

"Even so," Ninaran continued, "don't you think Lord Padraig, that if we sent some men to the keep to seek their aid, that they would not assist us? They are able fighters and have powers both arcane and divine, as well as martial. I will go to keep watch over the graveyard with your remaining troops and ensure that no creatures leave the area."

Lord Padraig was silent as he considered the counsel of the town's most prominent citizens. He put down his goblet.

"Very well, my lead scout is stealthy enough to avoid the creatures who are rumored to live there -- I will send him with some scouts to find our friends. Ninaran, you take a squad of my best men and go watch the graveyard."