The Forest of Souls rested on the Southern tip of the continent of Aethera. For centuries, the obscure woodland had been recognized as a no man's land by the people of the continent.

While the Forest of Souls had once thrived as a peaceful realm for tribes of wood elves, fairies, and various fae creatures, a great death had fallen upon the inhabitants of the forest. A curse, that none knew the source of, had plagued the serenity of the land and filled it with undeath.

Mog'Kellum, a young orc of the Razorrock tribe travels the woodland of the Forest of Souls with apprehension.

As his initiation into the role of ranger pathfinder for his tribe, Mog'Kellum has been tasked with entering the forest and finding the ancestral campground of his Razorrock clan. His purpose is the reclamation of an artifact that might bring his people into contact with their ancestors.

The forest has an eerie silence to it as the young orc treads carefully through it. No birds sing and no insects buzz in this deathly space. Only the wind passing through the branches of beautiful trees meets Mog'Kellum's ears.

The orc travels the wild forest, avoiding the long-neglected trails leading from fae encampment to fae encampment. The tribe's long history of sending initiates into the ancestral forest has taught the pathfinders of the harrowing danger to be found where signs of long-dead civilization reside.

And yet, for all his efforts to avoid conflict within the Forest of Souls, Mog'Kellum has found that which he had hoped to avoid.

A gathering of skeletons moves mechanically back and forth in the way of Mog'Kellum's path.

The bones look human to Mog's eyes. Sturdier than those of elves. Perhaps these were once traders intent on dealing with the people of the forest who were trapped here forever by the curse.

Mog'Kellum swallows the lump in his throat. Orcs are known for their valor all across Aethera. But, they are also superstitious creatures. The Walking Dead are unnatural by every right. And the trial of initiation is a true test of courage for the young orcs of the Razorrock tribe.

A warrior of his clan would rush the skeletons and break their bones before moving on. But as a pathfinder, Mog'Kellum does not excel in combat.

Perhaps he could destroy a few of the undead. But, should the battle draw further attention, his chances of survival would not be good. The last thing Mog wanted was to add himself to the undead of the forest.

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The young orc ranger minds his feet as he circles the pack and after some time and more than a little cold sweat, Mog'Kellum has circumvented the obstacle.

With the skeleton's behind him, Mog breathes easier and persists in his journey into the heart of the Forest of Souls.

Other monsters appear before him. But, with stealth and cunning, the ranger cuts his way through the wilds undeterred.

Eventually, Mog comes upon a long-decayed tribal standard. The cloth has all but dissolved. But, the carved totems signify the identity of the encampment's prior owners.

Mog feels a strong sense of reverence for the history of the place he enters. His forefathers and great-mothers once lived in this land. And the huts and dwelling places that they once shared as a community remain as monuments to a lost time.

Mog clutches the pendant on a string around his neck. His own family's crest. He must find the residence of his kin to complete his mission.

Walking through the barren commons of the once proud orcish stronghold, Mog prays to his ancestors that he does not find them walking in his midst.

His prayers go unheeded as a zombie walks out from one of the buildings.

Mog'Kellum's heart seizes as he stares at the pale ancestor. While the orcish zombie's armor is faded, it still looks sturdy upon the creature.

Mog pulls the bow from his back and knocks an arrow.

Just as the arrow is loosed, the zombie roars maliciously and charges into the oncoming projectile.

The arrow passes into the zombie's mouth, lodging there. And yet, the monster is undeterred.

Mog frantically knocks another arrow and jumps back to avoid the oncoming undead orc.

Another arrow is sent flying but misses the mark entirely.

Mog's fingers shake as he once more knocks an arrow.

The young ranger realizes the pattern of the zombie's attacks. It can act in wild bursts and linear movements. But, if Mog keeps a calm mind, he's able to easily skirt around the creature.

One arrow after another is sent into the zombie's skull and soon the ancestor has fallen.

Mog'Kellum breathes heavily as he stands over one of his progenitors.

"I'm sorry, Ancestor," he says mournfully. "I hope you can rest now."

After saying a prayer for his fallen forefather, Mog moves along until he finds a building marked with his family's crest.

Upon entering the dwelling place, the scent of mold and mildew reaches his nose. The structure has stood untended for a long time.

The family treasury lies at the back of the building, its gate unsealed.

Many baubles and trinkets that the clan gathered lay scattered in the room. Other initiates before him have searched for the right trophy to return to the tribe beyond the forest.

Mog'Kellum finds a brush made of fine bone among the many trophies. It will make a fine tribute for a mate after he's passed the initiation.

Smiling at the acquisition, Mog says a final prayer for his ancestors and exits the encampment.

The journey beyond the Forest of Souls is no less harrowing than the trespass into it. But, the end of Mog'Kellum's trial of initiation is soon realized.