Randall Twede

Creeping slowly down the dark stairway, the vile stench of death permeating the air, you hear a faint mocking laughter in the distance; or has this gruesome business finally driven you mad? The stones of the catacombs are clammy and cold, as cold as the dead bodies of the townsfolk that litter its floors. Although your body quivers, it is not fear you feel. Instead, a sense of anticipation, almost eagerness, fills you. The Shield of Vim pulses with warm energy on your arm. Tightly grasped in your hand is the Sword of the Leech, stealer of life, its pale blue light throwing eerie shadows on the damp walls. You whisper a prayer: May the spirit of Arcane protect me. His magical armor continues to serve the cause of good as it guards you during your insane quest.

You reach the bottom of the stairway and see a wall ahead. From the center of the small room, by the faint light of two torches, you can just make out a chest on the other side of the stairs. Cautiously, you open it and spot the faint glimmer of gold. Half of one wall opens into darkness. You move slowly, silently, cat-like, across the opening to the far side. Peering into the darkness, you discern movement in the air. As they move closer, you see more bat-like creatures similar to the ones upstairs, but these are crimson in color: their bodies resembling flames as they move unnaturally through the air, as if in slow motion. One of them shrieks as it rushes towards you, bolts of electricity shooting from its feet strike your face forcing you cry out in pain. You attack the freakish monsters one after another. You grunt in pain at each shock, but the sword restores your injuries as it kills the flying demons.

With rapid breath and pounding pulse, you head towards the faint, flickering, light at the far side of the room. Once again the faint mocking laughter echoes in your head. The flapping of wings alerts you as another group of the crimson demons approaches. Attacking and retreating, you string them out so they can't all attack at once. One by one they fall to your blade, their eerie death shrieks ringing in your ears. To your left you see a chest in front of a dark doorway. As you cautiously open the chest, reflexes take over. Instinctively you jump out of the way, as a bolt of lightning streaks from the wall through the place you were just standing. Shaken but unharmed, you return to the chest and see the inviting glimmer of gold waiting to be taken. Upon exploring the rest of the room, you find another chest with a club in it, a potion of healing on the floor, and a door in one wall.

As you stand in front of the door, debating whether to open it, another bat shocks you. Your sword slashes out with expertise, and the pain from the shock subsides as the sword steals some of the creature's life force for you. Perhaps it would be best to explore where that last flying monstrosity came from first.

Two narrow doorways lead from the far end of this room. Choosing light over darkness, you approach the one on the right. Hearing the familiar clatter of hooves on stone, you raise your shield and swing your instrument of death. The goat-man groans as his mace rings against your shield. The blood gushing from his chest spatters on it as he falls in his footsteps. A quick search of his body turns up nothing of value.

Your attention is drawn back to the door, which opens into the end of a narrow, well-lit hallway going left. Ahead you see a wall and a corridor to the right. As you turn the corner, arrows fly from down the hall. With lightning reflexes, you leap from harms way. You try to lure the unseen archers into following you back to the door. Standing to one side outside the door, you wait in ambush for the first to follow.

Losing patience, you enter the small room and attack the nearest archer. The goat-men spread out around the walls. Arrows fly from all directions; you fight to maintain your focus as they pierce your body. The air is filled with the groans of dying goat-men, yet you feel yourself growing cold, closer to death. The sword is unable to steal life from the dying as fast as yours is slipping away. Don't drop your shield now or you will lose the extra life it is providing and might die. One by one the goat-men fall, the rain of arrows slows. Only the leader remains now, surrounded by the bleeding corpses of his companions. You can see the fear on his face as he fires his last arrow and hear his guttural groan as he finally falls lifeless.

You silently search his body and find a staff. The strange runes engraved on its surface suggest it is magical. Your backpack weighs heavy on your blood-soaked shoulders. This would be a good time to return to town; the sage should be able to determine what the staff does. You take out a scroll of town portal and read the words written on it. As the portal appears, you sigh. When will it ever end? You think of the healer's smiling face and step through.