The adrenaline is still coursing through me as I stare down at the lair mother's grotesque corpse. The twin heads hang limp, the patchy fur matted with ichor. Around me, the chamber—a mess of shattered bones, foul nests, and shredded roots—is eerily quiet now. I take a shaky breath, wiping my blade clean on the nearest skep guard's carcass.

  Elara’s voice breaks the silence. “We did it.”

  Her tone carries more relief than triumph. She slumps against the wall, her bow resting across her knees. Misty, her ginger fur splattered with blood and grime, sits grooming herself with the pointed indignation only a cat can muster.

  “Speak for yourself,” I mutter, sheathing my dagger and sword. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a herd of… whatever the hell these things are.” My ribs protest as I stretch. “Cracked a few, probably.”

  Misty’s voice cuts in, sharp and unimpressed. ‘You’ll live. Probably. If you don’t keel over first.’

  I roll my eyes at her but don’t argue. “Elara, you good?”

  She nods, her face pale but determined. “Drained, but I’ll manage.” She eyes the carnage around us. “We can’t stay here. If more come, we’ll be in trouble.”

  “No argument there,” I reply. I glance down at the lair mother’s corpse. “But we should check this chamber first. There might be something useful buried in this mess.”

  Elara raises a brow. “Useful? Among this filth?”

  Misty’s tail flicks as she leaps gracefully onto a nearby pile of debris. ‘You’d be surprised what these scavengers drag home. Besides,’ she adds with a pointed look at me, ‘it’s better than wandering back out empty-handed.’

  “Misty seems to think it may be worth looking around. She’s got a point,” I admit. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

  We fan out cautiously, picking through the scattered remains. The stench is overwhelming—a pungent mix of rotting food and the sickly-sweet metallic tang of blood and guts that clings to everything. I cover my nose with the edge of my sleeve, trying not to gag as I sift through a pile of shredded cloth and bone fragments.

  “Nothing over here but broken bones,” I report, kicking aside a cracked skull. “Most animal but some, humanoid.”

  Elara’s light casts an eerie blue glow over the chamber as she crouches near one of the nests. “This one’s packed with oddments,” she says, holding up what looks like a tarnished belt buckle. “Metalwork’s old. Maybe valuable?”

  Misty sniffs the air, her nose wrinkling.

  ‘There’s something buried under this heap.’ She starts digging with swift, efficient movements, scattering debris.

  Curious, I join her, crouching down as the tangle of roots and detritus gives way to something solid. “What’s that?” I mutter, brushing away the last of the dirt. My fingers close around a small, carved figurine. The wood is dark and weathered, but the craftsmanship is exquisite—a tiny figure, armoured and looking powerful, holding a spear at his side.

  Elara peers over my shoulder. “That’s the God Thaldris,” she says softly. “He is a representation of both war and honour. It looks old.”

  “How did it end up here?” I wonder aloud, turning the figurine over in my hands. Its presence feels out of place amid the filth, as though it’s waiting for someone to claim it.

  Misty’s voice is sardonic.

  ‘If it starts glowing, I’m leaving.’

  I chuckle, tucking the figurine into my pack.

  “Fair enough. Let’s keep moving.”

  The rest of the chamber offers little else of value. A few rusted tools, fragments of broken pottery, and one oddly intact boot that Misty proclaims unworthy of her attention. With nothing else to find, we regroup by the tunnel entrance.

  “This way leads back to the fork,” Elara says, pointing toward the passage Misty had identified earlier. “The other path…”

  “Decay,” I finish grimly. “And if the smell back there was any indication, it’s not going to be pleasant.”

  Misty’s tail flicks impatiently.

  ‘Stop stalling. If there’s something else dangerous down here, we need to know.’

  “Right,” I sigh, adjusting my pack. “Let’s get this over with.”

  The tunnel narrows as we descend, forcing us into single file. The air grows colder, the damp earth pressing in around us. Roots dangle from the ceiling, brushing against my head like skeletal fingers. Every step feels heavier, the oppressive silence broken only by the soft crunch of our boots.

  “Stay alert,” I murmur, gripping my dagger tightly. “If anything so much as breathes wrong, I want to know.”

  Misty’s response is dry. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll let you know before it eats you.’

  '‘Gee thanks, oh cat of mine, so noble.’ I reply at my most sarcastic.

  “Misty says she will warn us if something tries to eat us,” I tell Elara.

  She suppresses a chuckle, her light spell flickering faintly as she glances over her shoulder. “Comforting.”

  The smell of decay becomes more apparent with every step. It’s a cloying, nauseating stench that makes my stomach churn. I press forward, the weight of the tunnels pressing down on me. The further we go, the more the walls seem to close in, the air thick with the scent of earth and death.

  “We’re close,” Elara whispers, her voice barely audible. Her magic flares briefly, illuminating the tunnel ahead.

  Misty freezes, her ears swivelling forward.

  ‘The fork,’ she announces. ‘The decay’s smell is this way.’ She nods toward the left-hand path, her fur bristling. ‘And something else.’

  “Something worse?” I ask, my grip tightening on my weapons.

  Misty doesn’t answer immediately. When she does, her tone is flat. ‘Different.’

  Elara’s eyes meet mine, her expression unreadable.

  “We should proceed carefully.”

  I nod, my heart pounding as we step forward. The tunnel yawns before us, its darkness seeming to pulse with a life of its own. Whatever lies ahead, it’s waiting for us.

  The tunnel opens into a cavernous chamber, its ceiling lost in shadows. Elara's light spell illuminates only a small portion, casting eerie blue shadows across the uneven ground. The air is thick with the stench of decay, but there's something else—a faint metallic tang that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  “By the gods,” Elara breathes, her eyes wide as she takes in the scene before us.

  Scattered across the chamber floor are the remains of what must have been hundreds, if not thousands, of skeps. Their bones, bleached white with age, form macabre piles. But it's not just skeps—I spot humanoid skulls, some small enough to be children, others with elongated features that speak of non-human origins.

  Misty pads forward cautiously, her nose twitching. ‘This is old,’ she says, her voice tinged with unease. ‘Very old.’

  I step further into the chamber, my boots crunching softly on bone fragments. “What happened here?” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.

  As if in answer, my foot catches on something half-buried in the earth. I crouch down, brushing away layers of dirt and decayed matter to reveal a rusted piece of metal. It takes me a moment to recognize it for what it is—a sword, its blade snapped in half, the hilt still bearing traces of intricate engravings.

  “Elara,” I call softly, “take a look at this.”

  She kneels beside me, her fingers tracing the faded patterns on the hilt. “This is elven work,” she says, her voice hushed. “Ancient. It shouldn't be here.”

  A chill runs down my spine. “You think your people fought here? Against the skeps?”

  Elara shakes her head slowly. “Not just against skeps. Look.”

  She points to a far corner of the chamber where a hulking skeleton rests, its bones far larger than any skep we've encountered. Its skull, misshapen and grotesque, sports a set of wicked tusks.

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  “An orc,” Elara whispers. “Or something like it. This wasn't just a skep nest. It was a battlefield.”

  Misty's tail lashes uneasily. ‘There's more,’ she says, padding toward a section of the wall partially hidden by fallen debris. ‘Look here.’

  I follow, and as my light falls on the wall, I suck in a sharp breath. Crude paintings cover the stone surface—stick figures wielding spears and swords, facing off against monstrous shapes. Some of the figures are clearly elven, their pointed ears unmistakable. Others are stockier, perhaps human or dwarf. And looming over them all, a massive shape unlike anything any of us have seen before. Beneath it, fresher skep corpses slowly rot, throats torn out as if in some ritual.

  Had the skep been sacrificing their own for some reason?

  “Is it a record?” I whisper, my fingers tracing the faded lines. “A record of what happened here.” I indicate the bodies below. “And whatever that was, the skep seem to still mark it.”

  Elara nods, her face pale in the blue light. “A battle, long ago. Elves, humans, dwarves... they all fought here. From the bones, were they fighting skeps, or were the skeps fighting with them against whatever that thing is?”

  I study the painting more closely, trying to make sense of the chaotic scene. The massive figure looms over the smaller shapes, its form a twisted amalgamation of sharp teeth and multiple limbs.

  Misty's voice cuts through my thoughts. 'They were fighting together,' she says, her tone certain. 'Elves, humans, dwarves, even the skeps. Against that.'

  She flicks her tail toward the monstrous shape painted on the wall, its form towering over the other figures. I feel a chill run down my spine as I study the crude lines, trying to make sense of the creature depicted there. It's unlike anything I've ever seen - a mass of twisted limbs and gaping maws, with eyes that seem to stare out from the stone itself.

  "What is it?" I whisper, my voice sounding small in the cavernous chamber.

  Elara shakes her head, her brow furrowed. "I don't know. It's not like any creature I've heard of, even in the old stories."

  But there's something else, a strange symbol etched into the stone beneath it.

  “What is that?” I mutter, leaning in for a better look. The symbol is jagged and angular, like a twisted rune. It pulses with a faint, sickly light.

  Elara inhales sharply. “I know that symbol. It's... it's the mark of the Blight.”

  “The what?” I ask, glancing back at her. Her face is ashen, her eyes wide with a fear I've never seen before.

  “The Blight,” she repeats, her voice trembling. “An ancient evil, a corruption that twists and destroys all it touches. It was said to have been banished aeons ago, but...” She gestures to the painting, her hand shaking. “If this is true, if the Blight was here...”

  Misty's fur stands on end. ‘This place reeks of wrong,’ she hisses, backing away from the wall. ‘We need to leave. Now.’

  I nod, a cold knot of dread settling in my stomach. “Elara, can you copy this symbol? We may need to research it later.”

  She nods jerkily, already sketching the jagged rune onto a scrap of parchment with shaking hands.

  As she works, I scan the chamber again, my mind racing. The pieces are starting to fall into place—the ancient battle, the strange alliances, the twisted creatures born of corruption. But what role did this "Blight" play? And could it still be a threat?

  Misty cuts through my thoughts, sharp with urgency. ‘Del, we’ve lingered too long. The stench of decay is growing stronger. We need to move.’

  I take a deep breath, tearing my gaze away from the unsettling painting. “Right. Let’s get out of here.”

  We hurry back through the tunnels, our footsteps echoing in the oppressive silence. The air feels heavier now, the darkness more suffocating. It's as if the very stones are pressing in around us, whispering of ancient horrors better left buried.

  When we finally emerge into the daylight, blinking against the sudden brightness, it's like surfacing from a nightmare. It’s as if I can breathe again. I feel the sweat turning colder as the breeze plays over me.

  '‘Damn, it’s good to be back outside.’

  “Let's get back and check on Naomi and the others,” I say, relief at being outside clear in my voice.

  The farm stretches out in the distance before us, deceptively peaceful. But the weight of what we've seen lingers, a shadow that refuses to dissipate.

  Elara clutches the parchment to her chest, her knuckles white. “We need to warn the others. If the Blight is stirring again...”

  I nod grimly. “We will. But first, we need to make sure Joel and his family are safe.”

  Now clear of the overwhelming oppression, I glance at my notices. Immediately selecting yes to levelling up.

  If I have learned one thing so far in my journey, one can never have too many levels, and I am pleased, but all things considered not too shocked to find I have gained another two after this trip into the skep tunnels. I split my 4 points between Strength, Dexterity and Intelligence, with a slight grumble I notice Misty maintains her small lead over my level.

  '‘Damn cat doesn’t need any more reasons to feel all superior,’ I grumble.

  Name: Del Axholm

  Level: 11

  Path: Archer

  Health: 78

  Strength: 24

  Dexterity: 21

  Stamina: 22

  Intelligence: 16

  Wisdom: 13

  Mana: 88

  Spirit: 71

  Agility: 32

  Presence: 10

  Animal Companion: Misty; feline

  Skills:

  Archery lvl 3 – Able to use all manner of handheld bows and crossbows

  Woodcraft lvl 3 – Basic survival skills in wooded areas. Can safely make fires and create crude shelters.

  Tracking lvl 2 – Can find and follow obvious tracks or blood trails.

  Traps lvl 1 – Can make basic snares and pit traps.

  Sneak lvl 4 – Able to hide in available cover. Movement increases the risk of being seen or heard.

  Herbalism lvl 2 – Can identify and gather basic herbs.

  Skinning lvl 3 – Can manage to roughly skin a carcass.

  Leadership lvl 2 - Able to command small groups of up to 20.

  Attacks:

  Bow lvl 3 – Simple Shot.

  Sword lvl 9 – Cut, thrust.

  Dagger lvl 5 – Stab, Slash.

  Special Attacks:

  Bow:

  Sneak attack lvl 1 – Doubles damage

  Master Archer lvl 1 – Cost 1 Stamina: Increased damage and chance of critical hit.

  Dagger:

  Backstab lvl 2 – Double damage.

  Two Handed Melee lvl 5 – Two weapon fighting, twice the fun.

  Name: Misty

  Level: 12

  Path: Feline Companion

  Health: 70

  Strength: 17

  Dexterity: 23

  Stamina: 20

  Intelligence: 14

  Wisdom: 6

  Mana: 84

  Spirit: 36

  Agility: 35

  Presence: 20

  Skills:

  Charm lvl 4 – Can influence the attitude of someone in eye contact with her.

  Transform lvl 3 – Can assume Hellcat form, Strength, Dexterity and Health Double for 22 minutes, These values halved for 26 minutes after effect ends.

  Attacks:

  Claw lvl 10 – Attack with front claws.

  Rake lvl 7 – Double rear leg attack.

  Bite lvl 7 – It’s teeth all the way

  Special Attacks:

  Pounce lvl 10 – Can be used with any or all of the standard attacks. Double damage, with a small chance to cause the target to stumble.

  Sneak Pounce lvl 5 – As above; Triple damage.