The caravan was stopped. Large stone pillars blocked their way. Behind the pillars rested the entrance to a passageway they had not considered.

“Why are we stopping? What is up ahead?” Was asked by members of the caravan in murmurs and whispers. The surrounding area had been cleared of the undead leaving an open space and less for the fighters to do at the moment. Alex looked around searching for answers as well. He spotted the Archer up ahead discussing with other members of the caravan. Making a decision and planning something. He pushed forward to meet with them. Among the group of people chatting was the head crafter and David.

“There is a split. My bird is pretty clear about that,” said David.

“So, what does that mean? Do we have to back out of here and find another way?” asked the crafter.

“It is clear that some climbers have travelled through these tunnels while others have left in search of other routes.”

“What is the most recently travelled path?” asked the Archer.

“That would be the tunnels,” he answered.

“What is going on?” asked Alex.

“You are interrupting is what. This discussion does not concern you,” said the Archer. He turned to David. “In your opinion what is the better path to take?”

David paused at the question. “I’m not sure if I am best qualified to answer that question. We all have been following the most recently tread paths as we have presumed that the others have done before us. The Seekers found a city. It may have been through these tunnels or another path.”

“Then we should still travel this most recent path,” said the Archer. “The previous groups will have cleared out some if not all of the dangers. Whether there was undead or traps. We also can’t just assume that the tunnels will necessarily be more dangerous or less dangerous than any other path.”

“How far of a trek is the other path?” asked Alex. “If we know about when the Seekers left Thornhold then we can estimate how long until we reach the next city.”

“Another two days maybe three,” said David.

“I’m just wondering how much this shortcut could save us. If it is a shortcut at all that is,” said Alex. He felt the weight of his battery pack on his back. There hadn’t been any time to refill it properly leaving him with only one or two attacks at the ready by his estimation.

“We are wasting time and it is already clear what we should do,” said the head crafter. “I’ll send my men to the doors, and we will pop them open. Mages should be ready to provide light and attack if necessary. How should we deal with the tunnel at night? And if there are multiple paths?”

“I don’t expect the place to be already lit so we will work as if it is a night shift most of the time. Some fighters will need to carry torches and we will need to be wary of enemies who hide in the darkness,” said the Archer. “As for deviations in the path. We will follow our guiding principles. Follow the most recently tread paths. If we do that we will deal with the least number of undead and will either catch up to another climber group or find a city.”

“I’ll call for the doors to be opened. Get everyone back into their spots in the caravan. I don’t need anyone else loitering where they aren’t supposed to,” said the head crafter while eyeing Alex. He got the memo and took a few steps back.

The smell of age and damp dirt was thick in the air around the cave entrance, cut into the side of a large cliff. The tunnel, built by a forgotten civilization, was a complex network of winding paths held up by huge stone pillars. The pillars, carved from rock, had worn designs of symbols and pictures on them. Despite the erosion of time, they still told their own story. These massive rocks cast spooky shadows on the cave walls, hinting at the hidden knowledge they held.

Four men walked forward, dressed in tough exploration gear with dust masks and worn helmets, shared a look before moving to the large stone doors. Each door was a giant slab of rock, its surface covered in detailed carvings of mythical beings and creatures that hinted at a world now beyond understanding.

They positioned themselves at either end of the massive entryway, two on each side, their gloves gripping the cold, moss-covered stone. With a mutual nod, they heaved against the ancient weight. A primordial groan echoed from the doors, a weary sigh drawn from deep within the bowels of history, as they reluctantly yielded to the men's efforts.

A chilling gust of stale air rushed forth as the doors slid open, bringing with it a sense of primal dread and eerie stillness. Undeterred, they cautiously stepped into the abyss beyond. Mages brought forth lights casting fickle patches of illumination onto the veined stone floor.

Inside, the ruins were hauntingly beautiful. All that was left of a once-thriving civilization were the echoes in the silence. Broken buildings, crumbling statues of unknown gods, and altars with precious stones and old offerings were all that remained.

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Stalactites hung from the ceiling, silently watching the passage of time as water dripped from their tips, creating a steady rhythm in the quiet ruins. The air felt heavy with untold stories, every corner whispering the secrets of this ancient tomb.

The men stepped to the side just inside the empty entryway. The caravan marched forward as they ventured deeper into the maze of rooms and hallways, moving away from the world outside. Torches were lit and cast shaky light on the walls, showing ancient murals painted in shades of brown, red, and black. The images told a story of life and death, of creation and destruction, painted by hands that had long disappeared into the past.

The group slowed as everyone entered. The passageway tightened and the caravan was forced to adjust its formation. Alex slid back toward his spot in the caravan. They walked quietly down the empty hall. Only the sound of their boots carried with them. Alex sent out his echolocation pulses. With the tighter corners he was able to see the tunnel with a greater clarity.

A screech echoed through the halls. Alex and many others around him stiffened up and slowed. More sounds of yells followed behind the initial call. They were inhuman and high-pitched. The mages brought up aethereal shields inn preparation for whatever might be around the corner.

The undead came at them from above.

They crawled above their heads. The writhing mummies did not stay in one place for too long and caught a few off guard as they moved above the initial shields.

The mummies descended upon the caravan with a horrifying grace, their bandaged forms twisting and twirling in the gloom. Their bodies were shriveled and mummified; the mark of the ages clear on their flesh. Eyes that glowed a harrowing green magic peered out from the darkness under the bandages. Their hands were curled into claws, a spectral blue light swirling around their fingertips.

Alex flinched as one came clawing down at him from the ceiling, but the shimmering aethereal shield held, pushing the creature back into the darkness. It hissed in annoyance, its voice echoing off the stone walls. Alex brought his knives out and quickly stabbed at the creature as it tried to get its feet under it. The bandages tore revealing more of the creature’s unnatural body. He carefully dodged the mummy’s claws and scanned the area for more threats. The mummy was quick but weak. In a few more stabs he had the undead in pieces.

Around Alex fighters adjusted their shields and repositioned themselves to better deal with the mummies dropping from above. Next to Alex, a heavily armored knight, swung his broadsword with well-practiced precision, severing the hand of a mummy before it could reach him. He grunted as he turned, cleaving another in two, its form disintegrating into ashes before it could even reach the floor. His every movement was fluid, his strikes decisive and with power in every blow.

To his right, the mages were at work. A mage with an affinity for fire, summoned brilliant balls of flame that spun around her fingers. She released them in quick succession, the fireballs exploding against the mummies and reducing them to ashes. The smell of burning linen and aged flesh filled the air. Others followed with colorful attacks that swept through the undead. Some chaos was still in the air however as the caravan adjusted to the developing situation. There was worry for misfires and friendly fire. Until they could clear the enemies within the caravan. Their safety would be at risk.

The healers worked double time as mummies jumped from the darkness and attacked members of the caravan. They hurried to those who were injured and grabbed them away to safer corners to perform their magic. Spells were cast to invigorate the fighters as well as heal their wounds. During the initial ambush their help was critical. They carried healing potions with them to speed up the process and handed them out to those with the worst wounds. Alchemists among the crafters had busied themselves each night with the ingredients they had for situations such as this. Their potions were also spread amongst the mages to recover mana and fighters to enhance their strength and speed.

Alex kept himself busy protecting a few mages as they prepared new spells. His daggers cut through mummies and the creatures crumbled into dust. He played it safe but was fierce. Alex did not have his magic to rely on for attacks which limited his options. Even his disruption ability could no longer play a role in the fight.

Next to him, fighters finished shoring up their defenses and surrounding the center of the caravan with shields. They were starting to resolidify their position. A large warrior passed Alex by, a towering giant of a man, swung a massive hammer, crushing the undead with his raw power. His strikes echoed throughout the cavern, shaking the very stone beneath them. His raw, brute strength turned the once threatening mummies into nothing more than harmless dust on the tomb floor.

Alex watched the man rush forward paired with two others as they swept through the mummies. The ceiling had been cleared of the enemies who had chosen to crawl, and their focus turned to the ground forces in front of them. The tighter walls meant that the caravan was evenly spread from wall to wall and held up a strong defensive wall as the mummies ran into it.

Alex was able to take a step back. Let the mages he was meant to protect take the stage. They were strong warrior in their own right and knew how to fight. Around him different people shouted orders to their team members.

The mages built defensive walls with the tunnel using a mix of physical and more magical materials. It was clear that the mummies were weaker to some forms of damage more than others and the teams emphasized what worked. Poisons, for example from the rangers, was almost useless except for the pointed items they came from. Their inhuman bodies and strange physiology constrained the effects of poisons and some other materials.

The fighting continued and Alex stayed active in the battle. He felt the flow of experience and knew that he was approaching his next level. Alex sent out another set of scans down the tunnel trying to assess the numbers of enemies. It was chaotic and busy. The points bounced back and gave him little information. He knew at least that they were doing well and pushing the mummies back further into the tunnel and ruins.

However, their relative success did not last. With a sudden, dramatic shift in the air, an undead Lich appeared. Shrouded in dark robes that seemed to consume light itself, it floated a few feet above the ground. Its skin was ashen and its eyes, devoid of pupils, glowed a chilling blue. In its skeletal hand, it held a staff topped with a crystal skull, pulsating with an ominous energy. The mummies seemed to be enveloped by its power. They swayed and their attack patterns started to change.

With a flick of its wrist, the Lich sent a wave of dark magic towards the caravan. The air crackled with the sheer force of the arcane energy, and the shields of the mages began to buckle and crack under its weight.