The
Grave Robber dug next to the
Grave Digger. One buried Zeffy, clothing him in fabrics, while the other exhumed the corpse of Arsonist. The
Grave Robber inspected the body.
She pulled herself from the grave and began shoveling dirt back into it, having learned plenty from the body.
The
Grave Digger said a silent prayer for Zeffy as he scooped dirt upon the body, but neither of the two was bothered by the other. They worked in semi-unison by now, each piling dirt into the graves, but a chill greeted them. A chill the
Grave Robber knew too well by now. She wheeled around, swinging her shovel at the
Necromancer, but the shovel didn't even phase the foul Evil. The
Grave Digger screamed in terror, running from the scene. The
Necromancer swept down and pressed its hooded face over the now-decomposing mouth of Zeffy. An inhaling sound echoed through the silence, but the
Grave Robber stood resolute. She wanted to see what the Darkness was truly capable of.
When the
Necromancer rose, it glowed with a new power. It swept away into the Dungeon. It had business elsewhere and it was quite ready to feast.
In the cathedral, the
Heroes were sound asleep. A few remained awake, doing their duties. The
Jester played his mandolin over two sleeping bodies, quietly soothing their minds, as the
Man-at-Arms stood above some others.
At the altar, a man prayed deeply. Despite his plans, this journey into the Dungeon had been a nightmare come true. There was no hope for safety or security in this foul place. He had to escape.
When it was most quiet, he slid the barricades from the door and slowly pushed it open. He was greeted by a sickening silence. The Darkness was deeper than ever, but he grabbed hold of a torch and inched out. He began walking, but turned back. Contemplating for a time, he decided the
Heroes were beyond saving and letting them be ambushed would save them from the inevitable.
He stepped past a pile of bones and a strange ooze into a wider hall before considering the directions they had ran earlier. A chill made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and he gasped out loud at the soulless creature before him. The
Necromancer and its
Acolyte stood before the man, who fell backwards to the cobbles.
"Aaaand nowwwww you dieeeee," hissed the
Necromancer, as it slashed its claws upon the man's throat. The
Acolyte held his mouth as blood gushed forth from the wound.
An echoing slither came from the Darkness further back. The
Acolyte let go of the dying man and ran in the opposite direction.
"It ssssseeemssss you belongggg to anotherrrrrr." The
Necromancer disappeared into the Darkness after its follower.
A sliding noise crept closer to the man clutching his throat. Coughing blood, he came face-to-face with the
Shambler. It was a lumbering and terrible creature, whose sharp fangs oozed with blood and a purple puss. The dying man shut his eyes, prepared for death, as the long fangs sunk deep into his body.
The
Shambler feasted on the corpse, paying no heed to the clattering hooves behind it. A stab of pain shot through its back as it fled from its meal, cursing the ones who had struck it. A faint oinking could be heard as it fled deeper into the Dungeon.
Back in the cathedral, all of the
Heroes were fast asleep as a creeping creature crept in through the door left ajar. The
Hag tiptoed past the sleeping bodies as it laid a kiss upon the face of one among them. She lifted the body upon her shoulder and pushed the door open again.
"My pretty morsel, you will make for an excellent stew," she cackled at the now-comatose
Hero. She stuck her blade into her victim, slicing some flesh from their leg. She licked her lips and dropped the body unceremoniously, cackling once more.
Only she ran into something and fell over.
The
Bloodletter and his gang stood before her, grinning broadly.
"What have we here, boys?" asked the
Bloodletter. "Seems this pretty lady's gotten herself lost."
The two other chuckled and drew their knives, smiling.
"Now, now, boys... we have other arrangements this night. This one can enjoy my whip."
The
Bloodletter drew forth his bloodied and spiked whip, lashing the
Hag across the face. She shrieked in pain, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Curse you, foul ones!" she yelled as they walked past her, towards the cathedral. She threw her sack of flesh at them, but it was too late. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she expired.
The
Bloodletter and his minions, the
Thug and the
Cutthroat, had found the cathedral entrance. The
Cutthroat went in, as the smallest and quietest, and returned with their victim, bound and gagged.
The victim was awake, struggling at the binds that held him, looking in terror at the three masochists.
"Boys...have some fun," said the
Bloodletter, unleashing his second whipping of the night upon the man. The other two then began to kick and punch him as his muffled screams tried to pierce the deafening silence.
THE DAMAGE
Bounty Hunter
Grave Robber
Arbalist
Crusader -13
Leper -3
Jester
Highwayman
Hellion
Hound Master
Caretaker
Man-at-Arms
Occulist -0
Plague Doctor
Vestal -0
Necromancer
Acolyte
Brawler
Bloodletter
Cutthroat
Thug
Swine Prince -4
Swinetaur
Wilbur
Swine Drummer
Hag -1
Crane
Prophet
Shambler -10
Giant
Blacksmith
Barkeep
Priest -12
Gypsy
Guildman
Guildlady
Wanderer
Nurse
Grave Digger
THE GAMEPLAY