The castle’s interior was a darkened haze, the air thick with corruption. An oppressive miasmic energy weighing down on my very soul. Cobwebs hung from the vaulted ceilings and clung to our uniforms, each step kicking up dust layered over broken furniture and long-forgotten armor.

If I hadn’t watched it appear just yesterday, I would be convinced this place had been here for a century.

This appeared to be one of the castle's main halls, with side passages leading to the other wings of the structure lined with tattered red carpets. Narrow window slits dotted the walls, yet no light filtered in from them. Any views to the outside world were blocked, replaced with a wispy gray void.

A sudden *clang!* drew my attention away, turning to see groups of soldiers locked in combat, pushing back wave after wave of skeletal warriors. Another ambush.

In front of me, a squadron of men carefully picked apart a wave of skeletons, Their swords rising and falling in methodical swings, dismembering the bones with practiced ease.

To my left, another squad burst through a wooden door into a side room, only for a blade to suddenly pierce one of the soldiers in the side. A surprisingly nimble skeleton had taken position beside the door hiding in wait to strike, before being dashed to pieces by the other men.

"Kerich!" A voice broke through the din of the clash. I turned to see Inspector Thorne pushing through the entryway toward me, blade in hand. "Glad to see you're in one piece."

"I'd have to say the same. I wasn't expecting an inspector to scale a castle wall and fight through the undead on his own," I chuckled.

"Neither was I! But, thankfully, those archers are noticeably more brittle than their melee-bound counterparts," he laughed with a wide grin, his eyes sparkling with a manic sort of energy.

As he spoke, my eyes were drawn to his erratic movements, all the fast motions and strange, bombastic mannerisms left me feeling… off. It was too fast, somehow. Too strange.

“Well, that makes the two of us, defying expectations.” I replied, trying to keep myself steady despite the unease.

Thorne stepped closer, reaching out to pat my shoulder. Suddenly, his hand tightened around my shoulder and I was pulled towards him, his face looming mere inches from mine.

“These are dark times, Kerich. This Empire needs bold men. he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Ones who are willing to take true action. The type who aren't content to simply… follow orders, like sheep."

His eyes hardened as they stared deeply into me, and alarm bells began to ring in by head. What the hell's is he talking about? What is he trying to do?

“Indeed,” I answered carefully, measuring my words as my hand instinctively grasped at the hilt of my blade. "Though sometimes I find that following orders to the letter is what’s most important. Especially if the alternative… endangers the Empire."

The inspector opened his mouth to reply, but paused as his gaze suddenly flicked to the side. I turned as well, spotting a flash of movement af tbf edge of my vision, to see Sergeant Gorvic cutting through the crowd towards us. His gaze was locked on Thorne, his expression stern and unreadable.

“Inspector Thorne- a word.” he demanded, his voice harsh and authoritarian. Thorne recoiled slightly at the directive, his hand falling away from my shoulder. His overly cheerful demeanor returned as he faced the sergeant, though it was clear his smile was strained.

“Sergeant Gorvic.” He nodded with exaggerated politeness, nearly resembling a theatrical bow. “What can I do for you?”

“Enough of the pleasantries.” He spat. His voice was cold, edged with a subtle accusation that left me wondering how much he had witnessed of Thorne’s behavior from a few moments ago.

Thorne seemed to have suspected as much himself, yet he merely shrugged. “Well, you know us Inspectors.” He looked around the main hall mockingly. “Always sticking our noses in other people’s business. But I see your men have the situation well in hand.”

Gorvic scowled, stepping between me and the inspector. “This is not some inspection report, Thorne, this is a dungeon raid. I suggest you concern yourself more with the undead, instead of harassing my operation."

The two were silent for a breath, with nary a twitch from either side. Before long though, Thorne let out a peal of dry laughter, his feisty energy returning with a smirk.

"Feisty!" he mused, prodding the sergeant’s chestplate with a finger. He stepped to one side, his focus redirected back to me. "If the Sergeant will excuse us, I believe I still have business to discuss with Guardsman Kerich."

"Inspector Thorne, with respect-" I began, but Gorvic cut me off with a raised hand.

“There’s no time for that, Inspector. I understand that you have your duties, but I believe you can find time to ‘discuss business’ when we're finished.”

Thorne raised his hands up in feigned surrender. "Fine, fine. No accounting for taste. We'll continue this discussion later, Kerich. Perhaps… privately."

And with that clearly pointed declaration, he simply strode away deeper into the castle.

Gorvic sighed, pinching his brow. "Don't let him distract you. We have a job to do. That maniac Inspector can wait." The corner of his mouth curled in a smirk that held the faintest hint of sympathy. "Even if his kind don't understand the concept of patience."

I chuckled nervously at his jab, and watched as he joined one of the groups pushing further into the castle before quickly stepping out of the way as another squadron of soldiers filed in from the courtyard. Apparently they had finished cleaning up outside already. Thankfully, being able to assault the castle so close to it’s blooming has drastically improved the common soldier's chances of survival.

As the river of men flowed into the hall, I grabbed a heavy plate clad soldier by the arm, and pulled him to the side away from the others. “Soldier.” I addressed him as we entered a more shaded corner, doing my best to keep my voice both authoritative and hushed.

He grunted a bit in surprise, though his expression remained mostly hidden beyond his visor.. "Guardsman? What is it?"

"We have a new task," I said quickly. "Inspector Thorne... something's off about him. I need you to follow him discreetly, and report everything you see."

Aethelred's brow furrowed beneath his helm. "I… we have our orders. The sergeant—"

"Gorvic understands," I lied, keeping the Sergeant’s imposing figure at the edge of my periphery. "This is important. Follow him, and report only to me. In the meantime, just act natural, and fulfill your original duties."

He was quiet for a time, looking me up and down incredulously, but eventually gave a slow nod and moved back towards his squad as they began barricading one of the halls entrances... Soon, other groups of soldiers had begun to do the same, and rather quickly the rest of the company that was assigned to assault the inside of the castle had assembled inside the hall.

The air in the main hall crackled with a grim energy, as despite the men’s quite swift charge to seize the castle’s interiors and fortify our position, there seemed to be just as many that lined the walls being tended to for all manner of injuries.

A sudden hush fell over the packed hall, as Gorvic swiftly vaulted on top of a makeshift platform built up from scavenged furniture.

“Soldiers!” He boomed triumphantly, his voice echoing off the walls. “We’ve cleared the courtyard and pushed the undead back from the first line of defense!”

A cheer erupted from the assembled troops, a wave reverberating through the air. Gorvic held up a hand, once more silencing them with a commanding presence.

"But make no mistake." His voice dropped to a low growl. "This victory is but a breath in a storm. The castle teems with these abominations, and we can be certain their master, the source of their corruption, lurks deeper within these walls."

“Our next move —” Gorvic continued, sweeping a hand across the room. "—requires discipline and coordinated action. Corporal White will lead his squad to secure the western wing of the castle,”

The Corporal threw up a salute to Sergeant Gorvic, before returning to attention.

“Our inspector has noted it is the smallest wing and, with careful precision, should be cleared quickly.”

"The rest, will follow me deeper into the castle.” Gorvic declared, his gaze sweeping across the remaining soldiers. “We must stem this dungeon’s growth, lest it threaten Sirocco.”

A roar of approval surged through the hall before he loudly cleared his throat. “We will also leave a contingent of soldiers behind in the main hall, in case either group needs to retreat, as well as to prevent any undead fiends from sneaking up behind us and cutting us off from the outside.”

"Remember!" Gorvic's voice rose. "We fight not just for the Empire, but for every living soul this blight threatens! We fight for honor! We fight for survival!"

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Gorvic's voice boomed through the hall one last time, "For Sirocco! For The Emperor!"

The crowd of soldiers swelled and roared, a unified bellow that echoed through the dusty halls. It was a sound that vibrated with courage and determination, a battle cry that held the weight of their cause.

With a final shout, the soldiers split into their groups and flowed back through the halls. Corporal White’s squad marched purposefully towards the western wing and through the barricade, their armor clinking rhythmically against the stone floor. The remaining soldiers meanwhile formed up behind Gorvic. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the soldier I had pulled aside earlier falling in line with his squad, and shifting uncomfortably.

I fell in beside Gorvic, and with a nod he barked another order, the soldiers surged forward and pushed through a large set of double doors at the end of the large hall. They let out a long groan as they slowly opened, revealing a long, dark corridor beyond. A rush of air heaved out a breath of decay over us, and several of the soldiers winced in suprise.

The hall was silent except for the clatter of boots against stone, and the low crackle of the torches flickering against the walls casting long shadows as we pressed forwards. Each soldier moved with caution and bated breath, testing the path forward for any traps or tricks the dungeon could throw at them. At the head of the line, a young soldier ran a gloved hand lightly across the uneven flagstones.

Suddenly, he halted, his hand shooting up behind him in an instant. The entire line lurched to a stop, eyes darting around nervously. Soon, the man at the front pointed out the disturbance to the other: Just below knee level, taut and nearly invisible against the shadows, a thin wire stretched across the passage floor, from one end to another

Sergeant Gorvic pushed his way to the front, and I followed. Squinting at the wire, he muttered a curse under his breath. “Get me an engineer! we can’t leave any traps armed as we push forward.”

A chain of shouts spread back down the line, and soon a soldier with a large pack on his back stepped forward and knelt down. On his head was what seemed to be an old miner’s helmet, with an intricate oil lamp mounted to the front that cast a beam of pale yellow light forward from a small circular mirror.

“Tripwire. Standard fare.” He muttered, before pulling out a small pair of pliers and carefully snipping the wire. He paused for a moment, glancing around the room for any sudden changes before nodding. “Alright, we’re clear.”

Gorvic nodded in approval. “Good work. Let’s move!”

We continued down the corridor, cautiously eyeing for any further traps . The air grew colder as we delved deeper, the shadows of the torchlight growing ever longer along the cracked brick walls. Not a word was spoken between the men, and only the sounds of metal boots against stone and the ominous groans of the dungeon filled the air.

Finally, the terribly long corridor came to an end, closed off by a large wooden door, its surface scarred and worn. Gorvic again signaled for the engineer to check for traps, the man stepping forwards and quietly setting to work, his tools clinking softly along the walls and doorway.

“Nothing here, Sergeant.” He announced, stepping back into position.

Gorvic nodded, moving to push the door open himself.. It swung inward with a groan, revealing yet another large, dimly lit chamber. The stench of decay that permeated the halls before grew nearly overpowering, and hollow rattling echoed as a number of bones fell through the doorway. Gorvic held his torch out to reveal the interior to be absolutely filled with a thick layer of crushed bone piled into a mound.

At the far end, barely lit by the torchlight, a massive stone door stood. It towered over the mound of ancient debris, nearly taking up the entire wall. There were a number of strange markings along its surface that couldn't quite be made out at this distance.

Carefully we stepped inside, soldiers steadied themselves with the shafts of their spears or holding their hands out to balance themselves. Uneven footing was a major disadvantage for any combatant, merely tripping on a loose cobblestone in the heat of combat could prove a lethal mistake, and balancing on a pile of bone shards was the last place I’d want to be in an encounter.

Unfortunately, the dungeon knew that.

The moment the rest of soldiers had entered the room, dozens of skeletal arms rose from the bones and pulled the doors closed before disappearing back into the pile. All of the men pulled their weapons and readied themselves. The engineer unclasped a heavy sledgehammer from his pack and gripped it tightly, while Sergeant Gorvic held his shield out in front of him, a steely expression on his face.

There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence, before the entire floor shivered underneath us.. A wave of bone crossed the room quickly, knocking the soldiers who didn’t have time to brace themselves off their feet. One of them, still trying to move away from near the entrance, let out a yelp as the bones surrounding them began to flow over him like water; pulling him down into the deep.

Another scream ripped through the air, cut short with a sickening crunch. The wave collapsed back to the ground, leaving behind a horrifying sight. Where the unfortunate soldier had fallen, now only a mangled heap of armor remained, half-submerged in the shifting bone pile.

It was at that instant that the attack truly began. Long skeletal forms lept from the ground, flowing through the loose ground like water as they crawled up above the piles. Their serpentine figures made of mismatched vertebrae and cracked skulls, held together by rotting flesh and bloodless sinew. Their bodies twitched unnaturally like marionettes, their mangled heads darting from side to side hissing and shrieking at our hasty formation, but kept their distance.

"Ah, hell. Seems like this dungeon is a crafty one, eh Kerich?" Gorvic chided, then pulled his blade from its scabbard and held it high.. "Form up, men! Hold your positions!"

As his shout rang through the room, one of the serpents lunged forwards at Sergeant Govic. Its strange segmented body coiled and uncoiled with speed, attempting to bypass his raised shield. However, he pivoted just in time, deflecting the serpent’s snapping jaws with a resounding clang. He grit his teeth from the impact, but held firm.

As I attempted to move over to help, another serpent lept from the ground towards me, ribs extended out into razor-sharp blades that bit against my sword. I managed to parry the attack, swinging outwards and sending a shower of bone fragments flying. However, the creature hadn’t been completely severed, and still clung to my blade.

Enraged, the wounded serpent whipped its tail around to strike my shield with a heavy thud, sending tremors of pain up my arm. I reared my sword back again to retaliate-“Gh-rrgh!”

Another serpent had seized the opening, latching onto my leg. Its gaping maw of jagged, shattered teeth tore through my leather armor with ease, and I nearly collapsed. Enraged by pain, I threw my sword into the ground and kicked at the snake wildly, which was enough for it to release its grasp. I let out a guttural roar as I slammed the edge of my shield down through its spine, splitting it in twain.

As I ripped my sword free from where it had stabbed the boney ground, I heard a near-deafening crack echoing from behind me. Turning to look, I saw the engineer had brought down his sledgehammer down through the skull of another monster, his face grit with exertion. The bone shattered with a spray of black ichor, sending the undead beast’s remains twitching and spasming.

“Good work soldier!” Gorvic bellowed, momentarily distracted. The weathered man’s voice laced with a fierce joy that contrasted the grim scene before him. His distraction proved dangerous, however, as another serpent flung itself at him, wrapping around his shield and pinning him against the nearby throat.

In a panic, I ran forwards with my blade held high to try and free him, but was quickly halted. From the corner of my eye, I watched as another beast took its chance and lept at me again, faster than I could hope to dodge. Time seemed to slow as it came ever closer to my face, and I winced, preparing for the pain that was sure to come.

And yet, none came. When my eyes had readjusted, I saw that the beast was cut short from its attack by a blade stabbed deep in its throat. One of the younger recruits had thrown themselves between me and the creature, landing a lucky blow and saving my life.

Letting out a thankful breath, I turned back to the Sergeant. He had spun around quickly and was now pinning the monster against the wall with great effort, holding his head low to avoid the serpent's jaws snapping at his face. I dashed across the loose floor and made a precise thrust which forced my sword directly through its glowing eye sockets. In a swift motion, I yanked my blade upwards, severing its skull from its spine before smashing it against the wall.

As soon as the creature was dead once again, I looked back to see the soldiers finally eliminating the last of the serpent hoards, the endless din of combat finally waning. Relief washed over me, as heavy and sluggish as the blood seeping from my leg wound. The adrenaline that had fueled my strength to fight was fading quickly, replaced only by a dull ache that pulsed with every beat of my heart.

I limped over to a group of soldiers that had gathered near the center, one of them was knelt down over another that was clutching their leg, their face contorted in pain.

“Davies! You alright?”

The man on the ground winced as he tried to sit up, but he let out a yelp as he put weight on his ankle, laying back on the ground. His whole foot was twisted in a terrible way, likely broken in more than one place.

“Ankle’s knackered, Sir.” he gasped, sweat beading on his forehead. "Thought for sure one of those bone snakes was gonna become my new boot."

The kneeling soldier stood up and turned to Sergeant Gorvic, who stood stoically staring at the large stone door. “Sergeant Gorvic, Sir, permission to return to base camp and retrieve a stretcher for Private Davies?”

The Sergeant sighed, muttering under his breath. “Godsdamnit, we already lost one man here.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes, go retrieve a stretcher, and Inspector Thorne’s party. You-” He pointed at another man. “Stay with Davies until they get back. Then help them back to camp.”

The soldiers threw quick salutes and set themselves to work, stumbling occasionally over the still loose bones. I sat down against one of the nearby walls, wrapping my leg with a bandage while my eyes glazed over the room.

The battle had left the chamber a grisly scene. Several of the tired soldiers sank to the floor, seeking a moment's respite amidst the carnage. Two others, their faces etched with sorrow, slowly moved towards the entrance where the remains of a fallen comrade laid. As they approached, the two bowed their heads in silent grief over the crumpled armor that was once their fellow soldier.

Wiping their eyes with their gauntlet, one stood back straight and turned his gaze towards the walls above. He scanned the dusty tapestries and faded banners, stepping towards a particularly large one at the center. It was in quite the sorry state, the cloth frayed and riddled with holes, it's faded colors worn from what appeared to be years of neglect. And yes, even in its decay, it still held an air of dignity.

The soldier marched towards the banner, his stiff posture doing little to hide the tremors that ran through his clenched fists. Reaching out and grasping the fabric tightly, he tore the banner free from the wall with a single, brutal tug, leaving only the bare stone underneath.

He knelt beside his fallen comrade and his grieving companion, and together they lifted the broken body and reverently placed it onto the banner. A third soldier, his face grim and forlorn, retrieved a handful of small gold coins and began laying them gently in a line upon the corpse. A final act of respect, as well as a cautionary measure.

The coins gleamed brilliantly in the torchlight, a stark contrast to the dull metal of the soldier's armor. The sight was a somber one, a reminder of the cost of our mission. I only pray that they are the last of the fallen.

Just then, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the chamber, and the doors swung open. A group of soldiers emerged from the corridor, led by two medics carrying a stretcher. Behind them, Inspector Thorne sauntered in, his eyes scanning the room with a detached curiosity.

The medics quickly set to work, their practiced hands moving with efficient grace as they tended to the wounded. The soldier with the broken ankle was lifted onto the stretcher, his face pale and tight with pain. As they were lifted and taken out of the room, I spotted the man I had earlier tasked with following the inspector silently enter the room, glancing around idly.

His gaze met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I was struck by the intensity of his eyes. Even from a distance, a fiery golden hue gleamed through his visor, more brilliantly than I had seen before. He was clearly a man who delved too deep once before, and paid the price for it. A price I knew all too well.

And yet, I swore I had seen him just this morning with all the fresh-faced recruits, trembling in the rain and racked with fear… yet now he had the gaze of a seasoned veteran.

We stared at one another for a time, my mind swarming with questions before he finally turned away, silently watching as Inspector Thorn slowly approached the great stone door ahead.