Wyatt’s world spun as he fell into the darkness. He didn’t know how deep the hole was, but he knew he had little time. Thinking fast, Wyatt grabbed his cloak with his hand and tried sending his bindings into the spatial storage. It was a longshot, he knew, but he was rewarded for the attempt with freed limbs. He immediately cast Slowing Current on himself, slowing his descent with a painful jerk as a torrent of air blasted up from beneath him.

Wyatt quickly looked around, using the last vestiges of light from above to find his fellow prisoners. It took him several precious seconds, but he managed to spot the two of them as they fell past him, and he immediately cast the same ability on them. Startled at the abrupt change in speed, the dark elf and orc looked up at Wyatt, who nodded confirmation that he was the source of their salvation.

The drop turned out to be a long one, and Wyatt was certain even Gus, with his high toughness, would not have survived the fall at full speed. Wyatt’s spell lasted about two minutes and he had to recast it before they hit the ground, given their slow descent.

After they finally landed, Wyatt felt around for his companions. He followed Gus’ voice for several minutes until he finally found the orc. Wyatt cut his bindings with a knife he pulled from his spatial storage, then felt around for the dark elf. When his hand finally felt leather, the human gingerly felt for the bindings, trying as hard as he could not to touch anything he shouldn’t, a task made impossible by the sheer number of leather straps that held her arms and legs in place.

Wyatt finally gave up after several minutes, as the leather bindings were too similar to her leather armor. He looked up at the opening above them, but it seemed they were left for dead as he didn’t see anyone looking down at them.

Wyatt withdrew a torch, along with flint and steel, and soon they had enough light to free the dark elf. When she was finally released, she snatched the knife from the mage’s hand, obviously hesitant to trust her new allies. Wyatt held up his hands, and Gus backed away, disappearing into the shadows beyond the torch’s touch.

“Wait,” Wyatt said calmly, trying to keep anyone from attacking. “Work together.” He withdrew the dark elf’s sword from the folds of his cloak and held it up in both hands. Seeing her sword, the woman’s eyes lit up, and she grabbed it with speed beyond Wyatt’s ability to keep up.

Eyeing the human, the dark elf replaced her scabbard on her hip, then dropped the knife. She bowed to Wyatt, proving even further how much that sword meant to her.

As her hostility subsided, Gus reappeared in the light beside her, a rock dropping from his hand. Wyatt, ever full of tricks, pulled out an axe he had taken from the last elf camp, then handed it to the archer. He thought for a moment, before deciding to withdraw the bow he had found in the dungeon along with a quiver of arrows.

He handed both to the orc and waited as he identified the bow. His eyes went wide, and he looked back at the human in surprise.

“For me?” he asked.

“Yes,” answered Wyatt as he removed the orc’s helmet from his head, “You hid me with this.” Wyatt held up the leather headgear for Gus to take. Wyatt had been confused at first why the orc had put its helmet on his head, but he realized the reason as he sat in prison.

Clad fully in the gray and white furs and leather helmet of the nomads, the high elves mistook Wyatt for another orc. Obviously, Gus had known the elves might have been warned to be on the lookout for humans, but in her arrogance, the high elf commander had assumed him to be just another orc, even with his purple cloak, and she looked no further.

“How?” the dark elf asked, motioning with her hand at Wyatt’s cloak.

Wyatt couldn’t explain with his limited vocabulary, so he simply showed his companions by pulling out some bread, holding up the cloak so as to give them full view of the process.

The dark elf’s eyebrows went up in surprise, and she said something the others didn’t understand.

“Magic,” she said after a moment in perfect orcish. Her body seemed to relax as she regarded her new companions. “Alindra.” She put her hand on her chest.

“Wyatt,” said the human nodding his head in greeting.

“Gushnaakt,” said the orc.

“Wyatt. Gushnaakt,” Alindra said, bowing at each in turn, and her perfect pronunciation of his name caused Gus to grin at Wyatt.

“Gus,” said Wyatt, patting the orc on the back. He turned his attention back to the situation at hand. “We leave.”

“This way,” said Alindra, withdrawing her sword and using the light of its flame to indicate an opening in the rockface. Her sword was dimmer than Wyatt’s torch, having only a faint trace of fire along its edge, but with her increased eyesight, Alindra could still see better than the human.

The opening was narrow and Gus, his shoulders wider than his companions and adorned with thick leather pauldrons, had to walk sideways to traverse the passage. It wasn’t long before the passage widened, allowing the party to breathe. The cave system seemed to stretch for miles, the only light what the party themselves created. Conversation was scarce, as any noise they made seemed to echo the entire length of the cave, and the party, hampered as they were by the constant darkness, was wary of what may call the cave home.

After some time, Wyatt noticed the light of his torch had begun to dim, and he stopped the others.

“New torch,” he whispered, pulling a spare from his cloak and holding it against the other. Standing with a torch in each hand, Wyatt looked around the damp cave. The light seemed to shy away from the walls, and he realized the new torch wasn’t helping him see any better than before. He looked at Alindra who was holding her sword to the ground, seeing the same thing he himself had seen.

The shadows were growing as they continued farther. With no other way to move, Wyatt doused the torch he just lit and put it into his cloak. The party was more careful now as they moved, their nerves on edge as each shadow seemed to hold something dangerous.

The air around them seemed to grow warmer as they progressed, and yet Wyatt couldn’t help but shiver. He wrapped his cloak tighter around his shoulders and held the torch as close as he dared. Still, the supernatural feeling of cold pierced his bones. Alindra looked as stoic as she had the entire time they had been in the cave, but Wyatt could tell Gus felt the same as he did, and somehow that made the human feel a little better.

Alindra stopped moving, surprising both of her companions. Her head darted to the left; her sword held at the ready. Wyatt, unable to effectively wield his staff in one hand, held the torch before him, his free hand ready to use an ability should the need arise.

For several tense moments, the party stood transfixed, staring at the shadows in search of anything. The unnatural quiet around them compounding the fear that something wasn’t right. Wyatt was about to suggest continuing when he thought he saw something move.

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Apparently, Gus thought the same, as the twang of his bow echoed in the cave, followed by an arrow striking something soft. They waited, not knowing what it was the archer had hit.

Then, a sound. Scraping. It was soft at first, as if they were hearing it from across a vast distance. The sound grew, the faint echo making it difficult to discern which direction it came from. Wyatt’s eyes darted everywhere as the sound seemed to grow all around him.

Unable to take it any longer, Wyatt withdrew his magic quill and began to draw the rune for light on a rock the size of his fist.

“Close your eyes,” Wyatt said, the sound of his voice seemingly drowned out by the faint scraping. The others did as he said just in time for him to finish the rune, which activated the moment he did. He shut his eyes at the burst of light, then opened them to see what was around them.

For a moment, Wyatt thought he had fallen back into his nightmare, as faces of countless dead stared back at him. Unfortunately, this was reality, and the undead that surrounded them continued their shuffle towards the party.

Wyatt, trying to contain his rising dread, unleashed a burst of air mana ahead of them, pushing the walking corpses to the side and creating a path for them to move through.

“Run!” he shouted and led the others through the sea of corpses. Hands reached for him, cracked nails catching on his cloak, forcing the scared human to rip himself free on more than one occasion. The undead seemed limitless, and he was forced to use his air mana with reckless abandon. Wyatt continued running, not knowing if his companions were behind him. He had no time to check, as the bodies were filling the gap made by his magic.

Wyatt ran, not knowing how long he would have to travel, not knowing if there was an end to this new threat. On more than one occasion, Wyatt was forced to use his Wind Cutter, decapitating groups of undead as they tried converging on him. Wyatt’s mana began to run low, his stamina close behind, when he ran into a large wooden door. He tried to open it, but he may as well have tried pushing on the wall beside it.

Wyatt turned to see the faces of his two companions, both looking desperately at the door for anyway to open it. Gus was pulled backward, struggling with his assailant before shoving the corpse off of him. He backed up to join Alindra, the two beginning a counter attack against the undead horde.

“Open the door!” Alindra shouted over the melee, taking advantage of the slow lumbering enemy that lay before her. Her blade was quick, killing several with each strike, the fire making quick work of any that survived the initial blow. Gus fought beside her, his axe work less impressive than the swordsman, but no less effective against their decrepit bodies.

No matter how many the pair killed, more always took their place. Bodies began to stack up, but still more undead climbed atop the mounds to attack the party of living beings.

Wyatt turned his attention back to the door, his rock held high as he used the light it emitted to find any kind of opening he could exploit. The double doors were ancient, the thick wood beginning to rot on the surface. The doors seemed to open away from him but pushing on either side remained a useless endeavor. As he desperately looked for any way out of their situation, he was pushed from behind, and turned to see why.

The undead numbers were pushing his two defenders back, and Alindra, desperate to buy him any time she could, had used her shield magic to erect a wall of magic around them. The undead pounded and scratched at her magic, and the dark elf struggled to hold the spell in place.

“Open the door!” she grunted, her strength fading with each second, each assault on her shield.

Wyatt yelled in frustration, before closing his eyes. He had precious few seconds to solve this problem and spending them yelling wouldn’t help them now. He thought about the door, about how he could open a door that was too strong to open with brute strength. He needed a way to tear the thing down.

His eyes snapped open, and he turned his attention to the frame. The door was large, and the top was built into the shape of an arch. He looked to one side and saw where the hinges would be on the other side.

Deciding to shift his tactics from brute strength to precision, Wyatt targeted the rocks that held the hinges, and used Rock Spike to send them into the crowd of bodies. As he hurled the third stone from the door frame, the door began to shake. It tilted as it was attached to the other door by a latching mechanism between them. The door swung towards them, the latch buckling under the weight of the massive plank of wood.

When the door settled half open, Wyatt reached up and grabbed the top, pulling himself over. He turned to help the orc up, but once again the archer showed him just how useful a high agility score was.

“Alindra,” Wyatt shouted, reaching for the struggling dark elf. Her mana ran dry just as he did, and she grabbed his hand. The mage tried to pull her up, but his strength wasn’t enough to win against the pile of undead that began to grab her legs. His muscles strained against the weight as he pulled with everything he had. Finally, Gus joined him, grabbing Alindra’s arm and pulling with a strength far greater than his own.

The elf rolled over the door, landing on her knees on the other side. Wyatt and Gus joined her, dropping from the top of the door.

“They come,” panted Gus, his white furs now stained red from countless scratches.

Alindra rose to her feet and stood beside the archer, flaming sword held before her. Wyatt admired the boundless strength this woman seemed to have as the undead beyond the doors began trying to break in. They pounded on the wood and climbed the broken door, some even tried crawling through the opening created underneath the broken door. Gus shot arrows at any of the undead that showed its head, but even the heavy doors were not enough to hold the undead hordes at bay. Soon, even the unbroken door began to shake and topple, falling back towards the party.

Alindra turned to look at Gus, who met her steel gaze with a toothy grin. Alindra’s tough façade faded long enough for her to smile back, a smile lost as soon as she looked over the other shoulder at Wyatt.

Wyatt was sitting against the wall behind them. The dark elf said something he couldn’t hear over the sound of the shuffling bodies, but he understood her meaning. The mage looked up at his mana bar, seeing how low it was. He looked back at Alindra and held up his index finger.

Growling in frustration, the swordsman turned back at her enemy, intent on taking out her anger at the human on each and every body that stepped across the doorway.

Her anger would remain unsated, as Wyatt stepped up beside her. He stood still a moment longer, waiting. Finally, he began casting a spell with one hand, then punched his fist forward, followed by his other.

The stone in the center of the arch shot out into the crowd. For just a second, the three stared, waiting for something to happen. Alindra looked at the mage, deciding he would be the next to feel the heat of her blade.

She was met with his finger.

Suddenly, the ground began to shake. The feeling was subtle at first, but soon began to build in strength. Cracks began to form in the wall around the arched frame as the mortar that held the bricks in place began to fall apart. Soon, the rumbling around them forced the trio back against the wall for support, and even Wyatt began to worry he had done too much.

His plan was working, as the arch, and then the entire wall, began to crumble atop the approaching undead. Dust and smoke shot out everywhere, and Wyatt had to close his eyes. He pressed himself tightly against his own wall, hoping the destruction wouldn’t find its way to this one.

Soon, the shaking began to subside until finally the only sound remaining was the soft clatter of the last few pebbles.

Wyatt opened his eyes, trying to see through the smoke. Even with the help of his glowing rock, he couldn’t see anything past his hands, and he tried to call out to the others.

He coughed instead, as the dust began to fill his lungs. He heard others cough in response, and assumed it was his companions. Eventually, the smoke began to settle, and he surveyed his handywork.

The entire wall, decrepit as it was from years of neglect, had collapsed, sealing the undead on the other side of a wall of stone and debris far too thick for even their numbers to move.

Wyatt looked at the dusty form of Alindra, her once angry face now a mask of confusion.

“Keystone,” was all Wyatt said, shrugging at the others who had no idea what he just said.

Alindra just stared at him, unable to properly form an opinion of the unorthodox person in front of her. Behind her, Wyatt heard Gus begin to chuckle. Alindra turned to the orc, staring daggers at him. His chortle only grew into a deep laugh, the sound relieving the tension that had built up since they had fallen in the hole.

Wyatt joined in, patting the dark elf on her armored shoulder. She only shook her head and sheathed her sword.