(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

passage. What say you?"
I nodded. "I'll do it."
"So be it." The spirit slowly began to fade, until only the echoing of its
disembodied voice remained. "But take heed... tread lightly in these halls,
lest you join the others in eternal rest."
The floors and walls of the mausoleum were plated with metal, laid out as if
they replaced wooden boards. Subconsciously I stepped firmly on each
broad slab, avoiding the cracks that separated one plate from the other.
Now and again I felt them shift. They clattered hollowly beneath our boots,
when it came to me.
These plates were the covers of metal lockers that held the bodies of the
dead. We were walking on their graves.
There was a click, and the panel I stepped on sank half an inch into the floor.
Oh hells.
I looked up to see a bright flash of light darting out from the shadows, a
scintillating orb of color that spiraled towards me with a whine. It gave off
flecks of light as it flew. Bolts of pain lanced through my body when it struck
me, electric sparks that set nerves through my belly afire as the chromatic
orb's arcane energies were released into my flesh.
I cried out in shock, as Morte and Dak'kon paused. When I started breathing
again, the halls were eerily silent.
And then the rattling ahead resumed, steadier than before as if those bones
now creaked with purpose.
The wandering dead were clumsy, but possessed with a ferocity and stamina
that no living creature could match. They creaked and rattled as they fought,
my dagger nearly useless against their meatless bones. Morte cracked
against their bones with his own skull, while Dak'kon's zerth blade clashed
against the dry, skeletons. I grappled when I could, twisted and broke
spines. A twist of my wrist snapped the leg bone from a fallen skeleton, and
swinging it as a club I helped bring a second death to another.
185