The door to south east concealed another two more headless wardens. Their auras pulsed with orange green light. The little motes danced sickly around the circumference of their hosts, occasionally swiping at the heroes as they too swayed and spun with swords and a gun. Fire leapt again and again from Kalthanus’ hands, devastating the two skeletons. They fell after what should have been a quick battle crept and wearied on the parties minds. These undead were stronger than they should be. Even as mighty Grey Rage cracked against their ribs they stood firm. One even withstanding a giant spike of rock pummeling it from above, Caleb’s bullets knocking it loose in a flurry of black cloak and silver white smoke.
The battle drew to a close as the last skeleton weakly dragged itself forward across the rocky ground. Mug crushed its ribs with a boot, it’s movement ceased. Just a terrible slight rush of sick air marked its peace. The dust cleared and Koya pointed at Kalthanus’s hand. A black veined jutted out against the pale flesh, tributaries of grey branched again and again all the way up his sleeve. Mummies rot, it would kill him within a few days, a long sad agony.
The mystic and the healer recovered from their shock quickly, combining their wisdom to investigate the malady. Kalthanus drank a powerful drought of magical elixir while Koya prayed over him. The poetry of Desna’s grace reflected from the walls and the air seemed lighter as she spoke. Darkened flesh of the mystics hand receded back and oily black evil dripped from his fingernails onto the pale earth.
The spoils are great in this place. Caleb and Mug find a bounty of gems and gold pieces in the two guard rooms as the wizard heals. Yet while they clamber over the dead rooms, they can hear the mocking laughter that followed them across the plains on the top of the world. The laughter mocked them even here, under the very mountains themselves.
Kalthanus was rejuvenated through the healing ritual and seemed to recover both in body and in spirits. With a magical gesture and a few words of power the the magical barrier across the bridge evaporated into nothing. The party continued on deeper into the belly of the necropolis.
The next room was a bright oval, with a white column at it’s very center that spread it’s rocky connections up to the roof, resembling a great white tree. Around it was a pool of iridescent violet water and to the west a figure laying still just at it’s very edge. They entered the room, Kalthanus warned them that there was powerful necromantic energy coming from the pool and set his will against its effects, trying again to disrupt its magic.
As the wizard mummer-ed the syllables that felt so familiar and yet completely alien, Mug wandered over to the figure and poked at it unceremoniously. Suddenly it sprang to life and a great sorrowful moan echoed around the chamber.
Caleb watched it as its form rose to its full height, almost reaching the massive ork’s full frame in measure. As blow after blow from the Ork’s magical sword rained down, it just stood there and took it. Finally in an emotion not quite anger and not quite fear, but greater than the sum of both, the dead thing’s howl tore through the hearts of everyone who stood before it. Only Kalthanus withstood the attack, the other’s simply froze in abject horror. Caleb’s wavering voice proclaimed the undead thing a revanent. An immortal who could never be felled lest it’s original killer was destroyed first. Yet there was a weakness, it could be stunned by seeing it’s own image.
Taking the advice of the inquisitor to heart, Mug grabbed the undead soldier in a feat of strength the party had never seen before, even from the massive ork. His green arms crushed the dead thing, finding it again and again even through it struggled. Eventually the ork wrestled him to the edge of the water just as Kalthanus’ arms were weaving and conjuring the blue light from out of the pool and into a brilliant ball of white light. As the color drained away from the water and the magic was dispelled, the thing perceived its own face and it fell to the ground on its knees sobbing.
Keeping a weary eye on the thing, but still needing to push further into the dungeon, Mug and Caleb studied a demonic door that faced them from the south west. Kalthanus used his magic to scout the tunnel leading up to the north east, chasing some movement he had caught in the shadows earlier.
The door in the wall creaked open as Mug pushed against it. Directly behind it stood an evil white specter, whispering and fell. It’s attacks ravaged the ork as Caleb emptied round after round into it. The thing was quickly draining Mug of his strength. Suddenly the revenant stopped weeping and on seeing the specter charged into it, slamming it again and again with it’s powerful claws. Even though the white beast was mostly incorporeal it could not withstand the combined attacks of the revenant, Mug, Caleb and Kalthanus all sundering it with their combined powers.
As the spectre dissipated leaving behind a jeweled mask and pieces of valuable armor on the floor, the revenant collapsed, a satisfied sound marked its final welcome end.