The dragon swings at us with a skeletal claw, and Korv rushes up to meet it. He’s barely pushed back due to his heavy armor and innate strength. Grimvl takes the opening to run up its arm, his blue blade slashing out as he runs. Bones being cut cleanly.

As I rush up, I spot Mace in the distance. Waving frantically from the entrance to a cave. How I even picked the skeleton out from the rest of the throng… I’ll just attribute that to our long travel together.

It wasn’t just my attention Mace gathered though, as I spot Alevia ready her mechanical bow, aiming it towards Mace. I can’t let that happen.

I toss the iron club in my hands, and she leaps to the side.

“Altaire?!” Grimvl shouts, a look of confusion crossing his face, but he’s forced to pay attention to the dragon as it makes to bite at him.

“I fucking knew it! I’ll kill him!” Alevia screams, but I’m already halfway to my skeletal companion. A few arrows whizz past me as I run in a serpentine manner.

As I get closer, I spot another undead that was hidden in the shadow of the cave, but pay it no more attention as it takes all my effort to dodge Alevia’s arrows. Soon, the undead in front of me begin parting, making a path as I run.

“That treacherous! He’s been in league with them this whole time!” Alevia’s screams fade as I shoot past Mace and into the safety of the cave.

I find myself face to face with a spectral horse. An armored skeleton riding atop it. He’s wearing an exquisite feathered helm, Red eyes glaring at me. His regal armor shows signs of battle, and a dark crimson blade hangs at his side. Secured there by black chains and without a sheathe.

“Karalis awaits.” He simply says. Tugging the reins so his horse turns. I look back at Mace, and the skeleton nods. Telling me it’s fine. All of this seems a little sketchy, but I doubt Mace would ever do anything that would bring me harm. I have little evidence of that being true, but it’s something I can feel.

We pass a multitude of gleaming eyes. Their owners’ bones glowing ever so slightly due to the light cast by the spectral horse our guide rides. The sounds of battle having long since faded, we walk on. An occasional tremor reaching us even this far.

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After what seems like hours in this timeless darkness, a faint light comes into view. Later revealing themselves to be torches held inside sconces. Casting a faint blue light, shadows dancing in tune with the flames.

The uneven rock makes way for chiseled stone, and we find ourselves in front of a dead end.

“Through Nox we find purpose.” The mounted skeleton rasps out, and after a brief shimmer, the wall disappears. Revealing a long hallway with a worn rug running straight down the middle.

As we walk down this new path, forks appear periodically. We never stray, moving in a straight line. Soon, a robed figure appears in our path. The robe is made of silk, dyed black. The hems are an emerald green. I spot a dark wooden staff clasped in a bony hand, the staff itself formed in the shape of a dragon’s claw, a captivating emerald eye with a slit pupil in its grasp.

“Karalis?” I wonder out loud.

“What an honor, but that is not I.” A thin voice, oddly feminine, that scratches at my ears responds. A pair of gleaming emerald orbs fixing on me. “Though why our master wishes to meet with one of the living I wonder.”

“Ultear, it’s rude to keep the master waiting.” The mounted skeleton speaks.

“No skin off my back. Ufufu. It’s you who’ll be in trouble Piros.” Ultear responds.

Piros draws his red blade, it grates against the chains as he does. “I will fulfill my duty even if I must cut you down, elder lich.” He says.

“Oh my, how rude of me to bar the great warrior king’s path.” Ultear says as she performs a sweeping bow in mocking fashion.

As we walk past, an odd image begins to form over the elder lich’s bones as perfect white skin covers them. Looking under her hood, I spot a beautiful face. Silky black hair frames her face as her beautiful emerald eyes observe me. Her soft lips a pale pink, drawn into a smile, almost seductive. An illusion?

I shake my head, and hurry to catch up to Piros. Apparently having stared at her long enough to create some distance between us. Mace is glaring at me. Trembling, but not in fear. Anger?

I hear a peal of laughter from behind as Piros leads us further away. We pass into what seems to be a hall for guest receptions. Old tables that would have been masterpieces of a renowned carpenter laden with empty bowls, plates, and faded utensils.

Piros dismounts as we head up the grand staircase, and pushes open the large doors. As we step through them, I notice a change in the atmosphere. A sense of dread and foreboding that only grows with each step we take.

I glance over at Mace to find the skeleton in a daze. Walking towards the source of this ominous aura. I’m a bit concerned at this point. It wouldn’t be hard to move a skeleton to your will when you command legions of them, but I continue following regardless.

Even I couldn’t survive against their overwhelming numbers. I came here to find some answers, to reclaim my past. Should I fail and have my life taken from me, it shouldn’t matter. I’ve already lost it once.

We stop in front of a pair of oversized doors. They’re gilded with silver turned black. No doubt responding to the poisonous aura that leaks out of the room. Piros simply stands there. Nobody makes a sound as the minutes pass, painfully slow.

Then with the creaking of rusted hinges, the doors swing open of their own accord to reveal the throne room. A once resplendent red carpet, now faded with time, marking a path all the way to the throne.

A figure sits atop it. Purple miasma seems to pour out of his entire being from under the black robe. Gold inscriptions of runes are sewn all along the hems of this robe. A collection of equally impressive staffs floating around him. His presence is overwhelming as my body moves to bow before him.

The heavy doors slam shut behind us as he rises.

“Bow, for you are in the presence of a god.” His words hang tangibly in the air.