Tales of Ruuin - Homecoming

The Warren

The Deep Dark

Tal, Kingdom of Morgenheim

Fall, 8th Butchermoon, Year 1876

Following a wide crack in the crypt wall similar to the one which had breached the canalization, they left the mausoleum, venturing deep into what appeared to be a set of natural caves. Soon they came across the first ghoul tunnels branching off here and there, worming their way into the dark earth. Eventually, the caves lead them to what could only be the home proper of the corpse eaters.

Echser gawped and stared around in stunned amazement. "By Science..."

He was not sure what he had expected of a ghoul warren: perhaps rotting, half-eaten corpses everywhere, split bones littering the floor, or hordes of the undead sleeping together in disgusting piles...

Whatever it was, it wasn't a treasure chamber.

"Look at them riches," muttered Hornbach, his voice hoarse – no doubt from righteous outrage. Echser could relate. Who knew how long these ghouls had been plundering the graves of his charges? Months? Certainly. Years? Possibly. "Must be hundreds of coins," the old undertaker continued. "Nay, thousands! Gold. Silver. Copper – and all them pretty baubles, trapped inside this filth. It's a fortune, a darn fortune!"

Stefan gazed about in wonder. "Enough to feed a family for generations. Several families! The pearls alone are worth a king's ransom!"

Craven flashed an amused smile. "These are no pearls, my friends, but teeth. Indigestibles ones and all..."

Both Echser and Stefan swallowed hard at that brutal piece of information. Only Hornbach didn't react, walking towards a tiara trapped inside the concave wall. "G... G... Gold. The whole darn thing. An' this ruby ring 'ere. An' that... look at that blue stone, lads, look at it. Big as an egg!" His trembling fingers reached for it.

"Leave it, master Hornbach," said Craven, raising his lamp high and revealing more tunnels riddling the walls and ceiling. "They are traps of a fashion."

Hornbach jerked his hand away. "T... traps?"

"Aye. Ghouls are a cunning breed. You can be sure that they displayed these riches for a reason. You would not be the first adventurer distracted by some shiny trinket whilst being crept upon – and in this business, distraction surmounts to death."

The knobbly lump on Hornbach's wrinkled throat bobbed. "But... the sun's still up!" A pregnant pause. "Isn't it?"

Stefan nodded. "Yes, and you killed the guardian ghoul before he could wake the others, so they must be still asleep, right?" Another pause. "Right...?"

Craven's low laughter was an ugly thing. "Far from it, my stalwart companions, far from it. I am sure most are quite awake by now. Can you not feel their presence? Do you not see their eyes glimmer in the dark?"

Echser almost ran back the way they'd come at that casual announcement, his gaze darting left and right, up and down, like a startled beetle. He saw it then: the eyes... beady black eyes watching them hungrily from the depths of the smaller tunnels. First, he'd thought them to be the odd reflection of gem or gold but those would not move, nor would they blink.

"Science safe us..."

Terror was a strange thing. It could be seething hot like boiling water, or it could be cold. The kind of cold that lurks below a layer of treacherous ice, just waiting for the unwary wanderer to envelop him and pull him down, down into a different world: one without air, without warmth, without hope.