Things happened all at once after that. One second the haughty priest-candidate was arguing with his master and the next, he was being dragged off into the shadows too quickly for anyone to understand what happened, let alone stop. His panicked screams echoed off the walls, and the light that he managed to hold onto got further and further away. The very first thing that Todd had noted when they were getting ready this morning was that the man had only bothered to bring what was obviously a ceremonial weapon with him, which had struck Todd as laughable when one considered where they were going. Even someone like him didn’t deserve this fate, though.

Before he could react, Brother Faerbar and Brother Lucius were charging down the hall after the wailing priest. Their chain mail rattled as they went, and Brother Faerbar’s sword glowed all the brighter as he prepared to engage the enemy, but they didn’t even get halfway to the priest before a sudden explosion of light rippled outward, and his motion ceased. That was when Todd started to charge, too, with his mace in hand. He didn’t know what that was, but he knew what would happen next and what his master would want him to do. Brother Faerbar would slay the vile pit spawn that had dared to attack a servant of the light, but while he was doing that, someone would need to save the priest.

As Todd ran to aid the fallen priest-candidate, he tried to puzzle out what that abomination might have been, but he could think of nothing that he’d been taught which could match that description. For a split second, he’d seen it. It had appeared as a viper larger than a horse made of almost pure shadow, which meant that it had to be what? A demon? A work of clever and malicious sorcery? He knew that it couldn’t be natural, but he wasn’t sure of anything beyond that, and he didn’t have the time to wish that he’d focused less on swordplay and more on learning his letters.

When Todd arrived, he’d thought for a split second that the red-robed acolyte was practically unharmed. It was only when he grabbed him to pull him into a sitting position that he realized that those robes were soaked with blood, almost completely hiding the extent of the man’s injuries. Todd quickly peeled them back from the priest-candidate’s obviously broken arm and pushed him back against the wall when he started to squirm.

“By the light, that hurts!” he yelled, but Todd ignored him, trying not to gasp audibly as he saw the ruin that the priest-candidate’s arm had become. The blast of holy light had annihilated the beast that was attacking him, at least in part, but it did nothing for the crushed bones or the portions of the jet-black teeth that were already buried in the man’s pale flesh.

Todd mumbled a prayer of healing, and he saw the flesh try to knit together, but his strength wasn’t nearly enough to override the trauma that the injured man had received. His efforts did little, if any, good, though. Even with the gift of sight, he had little talent for healing and none for summoning the holy light. So, rather than try again, he pulled off his belt and wrapped it tightly around the injured man’s bicep to stem the flow of blood. This took longer than it should with all his squirming, but once he stopped cursing and passed out from the pain, it became easy enough to finish the task.

It was only when the priest-candidate’s life no longer hung in the balance that he looked up to his master’s fight. Though the thing had only seemed to have a single giant head moments ago, it had three now. One was half the size the previous one had been and would have had trouble making the sorts of marks that the injured man bore, but the two smaller heads were only big enough to latch onto perhaps one of his hands rather than the entire forearm as it had done. For all their reduction in size, they were no less threatening, though. Instead of single strikes with the shocking sort of power that could drag a man to his death, they now struck in a series of dizzying patterned attacks that were almost hypnotic and no less dangerous than the single giant head had been.

The only thing that was faster were the swords of the Templars that fought it. In the dim light, Todd couldn’t really see Brother Lucius’s blade, but his master’s blurred like a living thing, leaving streaks of light that wove patterns that were almost arcane as he smoothly switched from attack to defense and back again, holding the monstrous threat at bay in a grudging stalemate.

Todd had no idea what was going on, but as Brother Faerbar parried a barrage of attacks, Brother Lucius charged in and cut off one of the two smaller heads. Almost immediately, it grew back into two more heads that were each half the size of the original. That was what finally made the pieces fit together for him. He hadn’t known that there was such a thing as a subterranean species, but this was very clearly a hydra of some sort. The reptiles were said to be creatures of flesh and blood that were almost as dangerous as the trolls that dwelled in the same swamps, but this one was practically incorporeal.

As he struggled to think about how he could help, his eyes fixed upon the torch that the priest-candidate had managed to hold onto. Instantly, he knew what to do. Fire was said to stop the creatures from regenerating, but even if he didn’t know how that would work for a creature made of shadows, he had to think that such a state would be even more vulnerable to the purging flame. So, without thinking of his own safety, he picked up the guttering torch and ran forward between the two Templars, plunging the flaming end of the torch deep into the spongy wall of shadows that was the thing’s body. The smallest heads burst into flame and then ashes. Its largest remaining head lasted a few seconds longer, giving it a chance to snap at Todd, but its teeth didn’t get through his leathers before his master had a chance to push him back and out of the way.

The thing smoldered on the ground for a few seconds after that before dissolving into smoke and ash. It left no trace to study, making him think of the nightmares that haunted him last night. This palace was cursed. Anyone could see that much, but in his dreams, the shadows tore at his flesh, trying to drag him down and drown him. He wasn’t the only one that had slept fitfully, he was sure, but he didn’t truly feel clean again until dawn’s light had cleansed him during morning prayers.

“Brace yourselves, men,” Brother Faerbar called out as the sounds of shuffling and moaning grew louder. “The light will protect you!”

As soon as the shadow finished dissolving, it revealed a wave of zombies coming down the hall behind it. No, he realized as he rushed towards his mace. The sounds of battle coming from behind him weren’t just echoes. There were zombies there, too, now. Coming from two, no three other corridors. For a long moment, Todd was conflicted about which group needed the most help, but then tightening his grip on his mace, he ran to his master’s side.

The bulk of the cadre was facing far more zombies, but they had 13 people, and right now, Brother Faerbar only had his glowing holy sword and a single Templar to support him, which was enough to face any single evil, but it might not be enough to face such a horde. The next few minutes would be both critical and terrifying. Todd had been lectured many times about fighting the undead, but after all the mundane opponents he’d faced to date, he wasn’t sure he’d ever see something so fantastical. In the last year, as they’d dealt with nothing but bad people, he’d grown increasingly sure that the more fantastical opponents he was trained to fight were just myths. He was wrong.

“Hold the line!” he heard someone yell behind him, but there was no time to turn around and see how the rest of the cadre was doing. Not when half a dozen dead men were clawing and biting at the three of them, with who knows how many more lurking in the darkness behind them.

These were old dead, and they fought with strength and brutality, but without the speed of the living, that would make them a truly fearsome opponent. The real danger was how many of them there were. If there were dozens, they would finish cutting through them in minutes, but if there were hundreds, then they might well drown beneath the waves of enemies no matter how many they slew in the process.

Todd held his master’s left flank, beating back every monster that came at him with his mace and shield until his arm began to feel like lead from the repeated, almost mechanical blows. They were so regular that they made him feel like he was practicing on the dummies back in Siddrimar rather than fighting a deadly evil, but the moment certainly put those rigorous drills into the proper perspective. These enemies were easy to hold off but hard to kill, and lacking Brother Faerbar’s height, he had to content himself with breaking arms and knees - maiming the undead into harmlessness rather than beheading them outright and granting them the peace of true death, which required almost more endurance than he had.

Fortunately, after only a few minutes of desperate combat, the tide of the dead began to wane until there were more dead bodies scattered on the floor than there were standing against them. Once the endless flow of the dead peaked and stopped, the battle was over in seconds. Without infinite reinforcements, the zombies were barely a threat at all to properly trained warriors. After that victory, the cadre quickly reformed in the intersection and counted only two squires, a paladin, and their priest candidate among the injured, but except for the red-robed acolyte, no one was seriously hurt.

“Brother Samael - take the others to the surface and tend to the priest. We will continue without you,” Brother Faerbar ordered. “Should the worst happen, then I trust you will put the torch to this palace so that none of this filth escapes.”

Samael nodded tersely, and a whole conversation was exchanged in that gaze. Of course, he could be healed and stay in the fight, but if he stayed, the priest would surely perish, so ultimately, no matter how badly he wanted to fight, someone had to go, and his bloody wound made the choice an obvious one. He was obviously not pleased with being ordered to withdraw but knew better than to argue, and the wounded squires quickly made a litter with a cloak to carry the unconscious priest candidate to safety.

While Todd was securing the acolyte to the makeshift stretcher, he bandaged the man’s shattered arm and noticed that the terrible broken teeth that had embedded themselves had vanished. Though the most likely answer was that they had simply ceased to exist when the monster they belonged to was slain, he couldn’t help but visualize those broken shards of shadow burying deeper and deeper into the dying man’s flesh until they disappeared from view.

With a shudder, he shook the image from his mind and stood, readying his mace and torch as they prepared to head even deeper toward the sound of running water.