Chapter 15.2. Hordes of undead.

Lilith unsheathed her blade and faced draugr.

– Holy Aura, – she chanted and light enveloped her blade. Draugr jumped on his feet and moved towards her, but was again sent flying back, by Lilith’s spell.

– Holy Word!

While monster got back on his feed, Lilith casted Haste on herself. Silvery light surrounded her, increasing her movement speed. Draugr jumped into air, and this time Lilith faced him with her blade. Her sword met his arm and sent half of it flying. Draugr stepped back and hissed. As an undead he felt neither pain or fear, but this warrior with mad eyes behind skull mask unsettled him.

– Holy Word! – repeated Lilith and her magic send him flying back again. Smoky wound was visible on his chest. Draugr realized that any hesitation on his part will be punished and run towards his opponent. Lilith stepped aside and cut off his leg, when he stumbled past her. As undead monster fell on the ground, she mercilessly cut off his remaining arm and leg. Monster looked back at her and hissed in anger.

– Sharr! – ordered Lilith with cold voice: – Finish him off.

She extended her arm and used Cure spell, healing wounded snakeman. Surprised, he remove his hands from previously disfigured face and stared at Lilith.

– Hurry up, – she ordered and extended her arm to heal others. One by one she healed them, while Sharr hesitantly approached fallen draugr. Monster was still alive, but defenseless. Strengthening his resolve, Sharr raised his sword and lowered it, cutting of draugr’s head. Lilith nodded and used her dagger to cut open draugr’s chest. With practiced moves she removed magic gem from his body and placed it inside her magic purse.

– Rest fort now! – she ordered and while her exhausted party recuperated, ventured into the draugr’s former abode – a crumbling ruin of a house. Cobwebs hung thick from low beams and shadows pooled in dark corners, but Lilith pressed onward, undaunted by gloom.

At the chamber’s heart rested an ancient chest – its gnarled surface carved intricate runes that glimmered with faint eldritch light. Aura of power emanated from wood grain – protective magic woven into very fiber, warding against curses and corrupting influences.

Lilith casted Exorcism and opened the lid. Hinges creaked open reluctant, revealing glittering hoard within! Crystalline faceted rubies throbbed inner fire, sapphires deep ocean blue held secrets of lost ages. Each gem radiated subtle aura, promising untapped potential.

Lilith marveled treasures unearthed. Finding them was pure luck. Chest itself proved boon: Enchanted to shrink contents and allow storage in pocket dimension! With a thought, Lilith summoned Female Purse – the gilded pouch expanding accommodate new additions. Gems slipped within with whisper, silk rustling against velvet lining. The treasure would serve as tangible proof of Master’s wisdom and leadership bearing fruit. It spurred party onward – kindled hope, hearts fueling with determination to face remaining trials ahead. But first, rest and recuperation were needed.

Lilith closed chest with reverent care, letting fingers linger over wood one final moment. She took it and went outside. This was job well done.

Almost six month passed, while they searched the floor. Lilith decided not to go deeper, even after finding a way down. Instead they searched the floor, mapping every inch. There was only one building left. Ruins of a castle. They discovered it two month prior, but Lilith left the castle for the end. First she decided to get rid of all other monsters, but now there was only castle left.

The looming castle ruins, a brooding edifice that seemed to leer at intruders with dark, sightless windows. Vision of once-great stronghold now crumbled into ruin – its towering walls pockmarked with age and neglect, ivy tendrils clawing up weathered stone like grasping fingers.

A sense of dread hung heavy in the air as they approached, the very stones themselves seeming to radiate ancient malice. Lilith could feel the weight of history bearing down upon them – whispered secrets of conquest and betrayal, blood feuds long since forgotten by all, but ghosts that still haunted these halls.

As they passed through the gaping maw of the main gates, the floor beneath their feet shifted and groaned underfoot. Debris crunched with each step as they made their way across a courtyard, choked with weeds and brambles – skeletal remnants of statues peering out from overgrown thickets, like accusing phantoms.

Up ahead rose the main keep, its once-imposing facade now little more than a husk. Crumbled battlements jutted towards gray sky, jagged as broken teeth in gaping maw. A single tower yet stood sentinel watch – its dark stone gleaming faintly, almost alive with shadowy intent.

Lilith paused at the base of the keep, stepping over rubble scattered like bones across threshold. She could sense something lurking within depths, beyond reach of sight or hearing.

The mercenaries exchanged tense glances – wondering what fresh horrors might await them inside these cursed walls. Lilith’s gaze remained fixed upon black void beckoning from shattered entryway. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead.

They searched the castle, but encounter only few, goat sized spiders, which they easily dispatched. Until they reached throne room.

With a creak of ancient hinges, the throne room doors slammed shut behind them! The party whirled around in surprise – only to see heavy timbers groaning, as they slid into place with resounding finality. Trapped!

A tense silence settled over the chamber, broken only by furtive scraping, echoing from far corner. Eyes snapped towards sound source, to behold throne itself shifting on creaky joints! Slowly, inexorably, the seat of power turned to face intruders – revealing skeletal figure slouched upon tattered cushions. Yellowed bones rattled like macabre wind chimes, as decayed sinew twitched to life.

The Undead King’s skull grinned, leering welcome, sockets gleaming malevolent crimson flame. Tattered robes hung from desiccated frame in moldy tatters – hinting at once-royal splendor, now reduced to putrid mockery. A crown of rotting iron rested askew upon hollow brow – spikes tipped rust stains, that might’ve been dried blood. Twisted talons gripped skeletal arms, where jewels had fallen away like tears from laughing eyes. This was no mere draugr – but something ancient beyond telling! A being whose wicked will had warped very air around him into stinking miasma of despair and dread.