The night had come and had brought with it the pale radiance of the moon. What remained of the fort walls and inner buildings recalled, from a distance, the lower maw of some necrophagous creature.

An hour passed. Nireh stood on the cobblestones that led to the gates. Night cloaked much of Nomolos' remains.

She drew closer to its entrance but stopped suddenly. Dry, creaking sounds came from the nebulous black in front of her. Felicia broke her silence with a horrified gasp.

Bones, picked clean of flesh, emerged from the liquid shadows. The horde were six in number and armed. They advanced towards Nireh at a frightening pace.

The raven-haired woman dove sword-first into the charnel mob.

Steel met skeletons. Within moments, two had received their premature, second death.

Unfazed, rust-worn blades swung back.

Mostly by luck, she evaded the bone-men.

Repositioning herself, she scanned for opportunity.

Less recklessly, she dashed to their collective flank and swept low. Following a downward strike and the hard heel of her boot, two more fell.

Unperturbed still, the remaining skeletons persisted, and as before, missed their mark.

This time she strafed around the remaining pair, her shield: a dividing wall.

To her mind, seconds felt like minutes as her chambered sword sought an opening.

And then it came. A skull shattered to her precise thrust. And the pile grew again.

The final blow came quickly after, and the bones moved no more.

She found that many of the structures had fallen into disrepair. Of the buildings that still stood, she searched them for signs of life. One, which seemed to lead underground, was locked by a heavy, oak door. Felicia knew not what lurked beyond it, but suggested that they search the buildings for its key.

Whilst standing inside one of the many hovels, and still without the key, Nireh's nose detected the stench of death. The sudden buzzing of flies, an accompaniment.

Her body moved reflexively. A chipped battle-axe whistled over her head. A longsword missed its savage thrust at her midsection.

Alerted, she vaulted over the collapsed wall and, with blade drawn, faced her aggressors.

In attire, the rotting pair resembled the hooded figure she had slain the previous day.

Her sword arm felt heavier, but fortune willed her steel to cut deep.

A head fell and rolled off. Its body, a discarded marionette, crumpled into a decomposing heap.

The still-standing of the pair struck at the woman but missed by a fraction.

Nireh felt the creep of fatigue and a rush of nausea. She gripped her hilt tighter and pushed on.

A low, sweeping kick followed her spiteful shield-bash. The creature stumbled.

Wasting no time, her sword clove its head.

Exploration of the fort eventually brought Nireh to the most intact building. Was the necromancer in here?

Felicia's warning came too late. Nireh grasped the iron handle of the door. At the speed of darkness, death-like cold punished her body.

A painful scream left her mouth as she struggled to free her hand.

Crying, she stumbled backwards, clumsily. Her vision was blurry. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

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Felicia's panicked voice rang in her head.

Nireh cursed her momentary stupidity and the sudden feeling of vulnerability that it had brought.

Then the door swung open, and the fires of hatred roared within her.

"It was unwise of you to come here, girl! Your actions have interrupted my studies and lessened my resources. But no matter, that pathetic village and its resident fools have served their purpose."

The robed man produced a strange dagger. It pulsated with an unholy energy. "Now, your death is near and your enslavement shall follow!"

Weakened by the mage's trap, Nireh's attacks missed.

The sorcerous dagger, a serpent's fangs, penetrated twice. Deep cackling followed.

The first strike brought about a supernatural sluggishness.

Now she was in danger.

The necromancer's following attacks failed to hit. He snarled in frustration.

Desperation had given Nireh a second wind but her blade had yet to connect. How would she avert her doom?

The clink of metal on cracked stone broke the tactical silence. Her mind felt oddly lighter.

The moonlight revealed something small and bronze bouncing towards the mage.

And he picked it up.

Sudden and violent was the change in his countenance. Agony and terror contorted the calculating, sallow face.

Seizing her chance, Nireh willed her body to critical action.

She struck twice, slicing his throat and then his midsection.

Gurgling, the man collapsed in a deluge of red. The profane knife became dust. The conjurer was no more.

After tending to her wounds, Nireh searched the building. Within the deceased's abode, she had found a weighty, iron key. She had also found a small chest containing some gold coins and a random assortment of jewellery. All of these she placed in her pack.

Stepping back outside, the bronze ring caught her eye. She bent down and picked up the blood-stained thing. No second voice came to her weary mind.

"So, it is done then," she murmured to herself.

With her cloak, she rubbed dry the ring. Then it encircled the index finger of her left hand.

Nireh returned to the locked door.

She inserted the key of the dead necromancer and turned it anticlockwise. A dull click issued and the door opened.

Far descending stairs met her eyes but she felt no logical fear.

The downward path was sconce-lit, albeit dimly. She entered its depths.

How was this possible? The decayed bodies of Offquar's missing arose in a mock imitation of life. Gruesome shrieking soon filled the gloomy necropolis, voices maddened by the icy torments of the underworld. Starved of warm flesh, their numbers rushed at the intruder.

Alarmed and confused, Nireh swung wildly at the mob. One fell to the incidental cut of her blade. But there were still too many.

Her fortune was fading, as she struggled to dodge all of their attacks.

Two of the ghouls overpowered her to the ground.

She could feel teeth digging hungrily into her left leg.

Panicking, she managed to free herself and hastened to a stand. Her body was nearing its limit.

Another fell to the swing of her sword. But she had not the strength to hold off the horde.

And again, she was brought to the ground and the feast began.

Her vision grew dark.

Was this the end for her?

Then two things occurred simultaneously.

The ring on her left hand throbbed with an alien heat. The sensation flooded her body. Her wounds closed. She felt renewed with stolen strength and vigour.

And a loud voice, familiar to Nireh, filled the underground chamber. Hearing this, the undead halted their feasting.

"Nireh, I have not much time. You must flee! You cannot win this fight. Leave now and forever seal this place!"

Heeding those words, she rushed to her feet, but her exit was obstructed.

Refocused, the horde began to close in on her again.

Nireh was backed into a corner. Her arm brushed against a taut length of rusty chain. Her eyes followed it up to a wrought iron chandelier.

She would not be a victim of gruesome fate, she would defy death.

With urgent haste, she freed the chain from its large fastening hook. The chandelier came crashing down on the mob.

Rogue chandelier fragments struck her hard, but she still had enough strength to flee.

Nireh bounded up the stone steps in adrenaline-fueled desperation.

Felicia's voice echoed one last time. "Farewell, my lady, and thank you."

The light of dawn stung the weary woman's eyes. Her pace lacked the vigour that it had when first she began her accursed quest, but the more distance she put between herself and the horror of those ruins, the better.

Her heart languished in subterranean depressions. The prospect of receiving the partial reward for her partial success had not yet exorcised her pall.

Presently, she knew not the words of her expected testimony. Instead, she focused on her returning march, the rising sun warming her face.