It wasn’t unusual for things to be worse than they first appeared. Rot often runs deep to the roots of a system that you might not first realize from the surface. Everything has a small chance of happening, even if remote. That the graveyard may be a Villain’s lair or some foul ploy by the monks was pretty high on the list of things that could go wrong. For them.

I walked slowly across the chamber and peered down into the gloom hewn from the stone.

“Looks like a tunnel,” Jakob whispered, crouched nearby.

With a nod, I gestured for the both of them to follow my lead. The crimson along my blade cooled but remained illuminating the passageway ahead. Something had dug through the dirt - a winding tunnel that gradually descended downward.

The humans kept pace and remained silent. Not just for the bonus of subtlety, but there was a tension in the air. We didn’t quite know what we were up against - what may lay ahead. For all we knew, it could be something way outside our scope of power. Actually - the more I considered that thought, the more likely that became. There were Unranked Necromancers, of course, but the amount of zombies now above us would be far beyond that power level. Either it was an artifact, or trouble.

I shivered. With the adrenaline out of my system, the cold underground was a sharp contrast to the pulsing heat of battle. Not that I didn’t admire the place; a hidden chamber beneath a crypt sounded like the perfect place for a fledgling vampire to live. Thoughts on why that may be would have to wait - as we came upon the exit to this narrow corridor.

An opening that widened up to a large cavern, lit by candles, spread sporadically around the area. Several other similar mined doorways were set at different places around the near-circular room. The roof was domed, and the occasional damp drip fell from the top to spatter against the dirtied stone floor.

Altars, or stone tables, lined a semi-circle around one central pillar. They were cluttered with small tools, books, skulls, candles, and other bottles and knick-knacks. I was set on edge. It appeared empty, but my eyes scoured every shadowed recess for the hint of someone or something lurking. Atop the central pillar was an orb of pulsing purple light.

No doubt something to do with the undead issue above - however, the room was clearly used at some point by at least one humanoid. Both problems in one.

I stepped slowly from our alcove and into the chamber proper. The Mage and Ranger softly stepped behind me. Not a team designed for stealth, but we had performed a lot better than I had expected. In fact - enough to earn a round of applause, it seemed.

We turned to see a figure scrape themselves out from behind the pillar. A man of pale skin and haughty eyes, a long beard covered in trinkets and charms. His dirtied green robe billowed with each clap of his wrinkled hands. Something about him was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“Well done, adventurers. The last few groups barely made it into the graveyard.” He cackled and crossed his arms, his raucous praise seemingly now ended.

I shrugged. “Unlucky for you, I suppose.” My eyes tried to read him. Definitely a Villain, but I was rusty on picking out the difference between lower Ranks still.

“Overconfidence will be your undoing,” he drawled as he rolled his eyes. “Too many muscles and not enough grey matter, you’re basically a walking stereotype.”

Despite the danger, I turned my head to the pair behind me and shrugged. Overconfidence seemed more likely to be what was his undoing, although we were caught off-guard within his home ground. He may have the advantage, especially if I had underestimated his Rank.

Ferocity burned within Florence’s eyes. “You want to tell us your plan before we end you?”

I turned back to the necromancer, knowing I wouldn’t be able to hold back the Mage forever. The man cackled again.

“I’m raising a zombie army, is that not obvious? It’s a surprise you all managed to-“

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My boots scraped against the rocky floor as I lunged forth into a sprint. Villains weren’t so easily egged into running off a monologue as many fresh Heroes might assume. At the low Ranks, maybe - where ego and the feeling of being untouchable mixed with the loneliness of the path of evil. You were practically begging people to hear you out, and praise you for the plans you’d become obsessed with.

Those Villains often fell to Heroes with less patience than skills to throw around. Smart Villains - one that wanted to live, were ruthless, and didn’t care for the thoughts and feelings of those sent to erase them from existence.

My sword burst into crimson flame as I approached, [Enrage] filling me with an overheated desire to destroy. The necromancer raised one hand, crackling energy of a foul purple began forming.

A blaze of twin green arrows shot around me, one missing the target by an inch; the second was reflected as an oval shield of darkness flared into existence around the figure.

The necromancer sent out his bolt of energy, and I turned my sword to the flat side in an attempt to block it. I could feel the static and smell the dark energy used to cast it - some manner of [Wytch Bolt], I assumed. As it struck my blade, the energy burst, sending waves of pain down through my hands that continued to tingle after the instance of damage had petered out.

And then, with a quick two steps, I was upon him. The greatsword arced downward, and a flare of shadow radiated from his shield - my follow-up jab with the pommel hit the air, as with a pop of atmosphere, he vanished and appeared across the room.

He began casting another bolt as his shield deflected another arrow. Florence hadn’t acted yet, and a brief glance toward the Mage showed she was seething but observing the conflict for something.

I rolled to avoid the cast spell, a sizzle of crackling energy bouncing along the stone floor where it hit. As I reached him again, he vanished and appeared further back in the chamber, behind the stone tables.

If he could keep on doing that, then that was a recipe for frustration. His shield must have a damage limit, but without being able to pin him down, I was not able to start wearing it down. Jakob couldn’t seem to do much, and I could almost hear his teeth grinding in the background.

Silver lining - the necromancer seemed to content to target me. It was the obvious choice when in fear of your life. The overbearing bear of a man with a sharp weapon and angry words constantly in your face - it would be detrimental to ignore me. That often meant my group could act unhindered. Perhaps it was unfair it was three-on-one, but then, Villains never played fair.

A fireball shot across the space, illuminating the reach of the chamber that the candles weren’t able to hit, and struck the table between me and the necromancer. At first, I thought this was just an errant miscast - but the emotions suddenly flickering through the necromancer's wizened face proved my assumption incorrect.

“Not my work!” The old man hissed, his eyes widely darting between the books and arcane items now alight or charred. He turned his hand towards the woman and a crackle of magic began to form in his palm. It had been enough of a distraction.

I slid across the table, knocking instruments and bottles to the floor on the other side. My sword came down on him, and he flinched away, his spell failing before he could send it out. The shield once again flared dark light - but there was now a crack. As I leveled the follow-up - he vanished.

Straight into the immediate burst of [Fire Wall].

With a hissing screech, his shield burst. Fragments of dark energy spilled across the floor and evaporated in a second as he stumbled away from the surprisingly intense fire. Green blazed through the air as two arrows struck into his chest, no longer prevented by the protection spell.

In pain, he turned to them, both hands raised and crackling with energy even greater ferocity than before. I lumbered back across the tables but was not quick enough to intercept.

And then a [Fire Ball] struck him in the face. After casting the wall, she had immediately begun preparing a burst of flame to follow up, and this was also a direct hit to her intended target.

However, instead of bursting against the necromancer, it just… stayed put. Her hand gloved hand extended and twitching with focus, the ball of intense heat had stuck to the Villain - no, it had enveloped him. Covered his head and filled his mouth and eyes with powerful heat.

Eventually, after a few seconds of the crackle of fat and wave of warmth that filled the chamber, the Mage dropped to her knees and clutched at her forearm with a growl of agony. Jakob and I stood in shocked silence as the charred skull, rent from any living matter, clattered from the smoldering neck of the necromancer, and his body slumped to the floor.

“That was… impressive.” I winced as the smell of burnt flesh filled my nostrils. Something that nudged my brain into bringing back old memories I had hoped were long buried.

“That was fucking painful,” she seethed, “remind me not to do that again.”

I smiled and walked around to the corpse. “I didn’t even know you could do that… or half the things you do with fire.” My eyebrows raised, and she glanced between me and the Ranger.

“A story for a safer environment,” Jakob offered. “Have we saved the day?”

Often that was all that was needed to call the adventure a win. The bad guy was no longer living, and we persisted. Uninjured - if you didn’t count self-inflicted wounds. It all tasted… too easy.

“I’m not so sure.” I glanced around the room at the other rough dirt tunnels. There was a low murmuring - a deep noise that was slowly becoming more apparent.

“I feel we may have just kicked the hornet’s nest.”