Runeblade: You shall not pass, Wanderer!

Kaius planted his feet. There were only three undead remaining from the small mob that he had stumbled upon at the hunters lodge and led on a merry chase. More than a low enough number for him to stop running. Of the three, the one front and centre held a pitted machete, same as the one on its left. Its companion to its right holding a hatchet.

All three tried to swing as soon as Kaius stopped moving. He thrust, lancing the middle undead in the shoulder. Or at least, he tried to. The leftmost undead whacked his spear with its machete, shunting him off target. He swung his spear sideways, pivoting to a new target and carving a line through the rightmost undead's face as he smacked away the hatchet it had raised.

A spray of thick black blood coated the soft grass between them.

Kaius took another steady breath, the smell rotting blood mixing with the earthy tones of disturbed loam. Any disgust at the scent washed away in his Bloodsong. A step back prevented his rabid foes from closing the distance, he feinted another strike at the centremost undead, before whipping his spear back into the hatchet-wielder. One of the boor-spears lugs impacted the undead's skull with a savage crack, splintering the bone.

The other undead tried to capitalise on his committed attack, lunging towards him with a swing and a stab. Kaius leapt back out of range, his heart keeping a steady rhythm even as his tunic clung uncomfortably to his chest due to the sweat of his extended exertion.

In its fervour, one of the machete-wielders lunged after him, swinging its blade in an attempt to gut him where he stood. Kaius pulled his haft in tight and the undead’s machete swang past, leaving it flat footed. Experience and Sense Weakness drove him to action, a thrust puncturing deep into the underside of the undead’s jaw, and erupting from the crown of its head with a crunch of shattered bone.

**Ding! level 15 Undead Huntsman slain**

Kaius maintained his momentum, ripping his spear free to flow into a tight cut at the next closest undead. It brought its machete up in a block, catching the haft of his spear before it could cleave through its skull.

Breaking the bind he pulled back, then thrust with a rapid flurry of stabs, alternating between targets. The undead did their best to ward him off, but decrepit nervous systems hampered their attempts.

One, looking almost frustrated, tried to physically chop through his haft. Kaius grinned, stepping back to let the axe swing past and pull the undead off balance. The opening did not go unmissed.

It fell with a weeping hole where its nose used to be.

**Ding! level 16 Undead Huntsman slain**

Sweat stung as it streamed down Kaius’s face and into his eyes. Not for a moment did he consider taking a hand from his weapon to wipe his face, nor scrunching his eyes to clear the salty irritant. He was too honed in. There was only one left.

One.

Left.

Kaius let out a war cry, breaking the silence he had held since springing his ambush. The savage reverberations stabbed at his throat, heightening his aggression. He swept his spear up before slamming it down into the undead's guard. It stumbled at the sudden force, before rallying itself to jump toward him in mindless fury.

Switching his grip, he momentarily held his spear like a quarterstaff, before slamming its butt into the undead's machete. Knocking the weapon away. A reverse strike drove his spear point through the creature's neck, a torrent of black soaking its ratty leathers in moments.

He carried through the strike with a push kick to the undead's chest, sending it sprawling prone. Kaius planted his foot and smiled at the scrambling thing.

“Fifteen doesn’t seem so bad anymore.” He said, eyes cold despite his grin.

He slammed his spear home, planting its leaf bladed point in the monster's skull, and leaned his full body weight into the spear. Pulling it free, he walked away from the messy pile of blood and viscera before slouching over as he gasped.

That had been rough. But so, so much fun. As the unnatural wind cooled the sweat on his brow, Kaius looked at the destruction he had left in his wake. A line of black, evidence of the dozens of wounds he had inflicted on the mob. A grisly trail leading to the hunters lodge far in the distance, interposed every so often by the limp corpse of a downed foe.

“Gods damn them, that was tough” He panted, using his free hand to massage one of his calves. They still burned something fierce, strained from his hapdash retreat over uneven ground.

He squinted, seeing an undead slowly shamble its way closer to him, shaded in the half light of the cavern. One of the crippled ones, hampered by its injured leg. It promptly stumbled, falling over face first.

The absurdity of it jolted, a soft bark of a laugh escaping his lips.

“Well, best not leave a job unfinished.” He said with a shake of his head.

Standing up straight, he planted his spear point first into soft soil below, allowing it to stand freely. He bounced lightly on the balls of his feet, shaking loose the accumulated tension in his arms, before bending over to stretch out his legs. A groan slipped out as the burning ache in his legs intensified behind his knees and the back of his thighs.

“That’s a bit better.” Kaius mumbled as he stood back up.

He took a look at his spear, its mangled haft, and blood drenched tip. He frowned.

“Probably best to just grab a new one.”

He looked back to the distant undead, now risen again and limping in his direction, patting the hilt of his longsword for reassurance.

Keeping a comfortable pace, he set off the way back the way he had come, one eye trained on the tree line for any sign of beasts that may have come to investigate the noises of his battle. Thankfully, there were none..

He kept in line with the trail of his battle, walking around the leaking corpses of his slaughtered foes. Though unfortunately he was not entirely able to ignore their foetid stench now that the heat of battle had left him.

“Gods that smells rank.” He said, his face paling. It could have been worse, he thought. He’d mostly avoided blows to their centre mass. He shuddered to think what unholy abomination he would have to deal with if he had perforated their bowels.

About halfway to the hunters lodge and the stumbling figure in the distance Kaius stopped by the corpse of an undead who had been using a boar-spear of its own. He eyed it, checking it for any major damage. It was splintered and poorly maintained, but in a damned sight better state than his own.

He tossed his spear to the side, replacing it with the new one.

With a new walking stick in hand, he locked his eyes on the slowly approaching undead and picked up his pace.

Once he got close enough to the creature he stopped. Hefting his spear over his shoulder, he took aim and threw it at the undead with a grunt. With unerring finality it soared through the air. It tried to smack the missile out of the air. Unfortunately, it was hampered by the deep wounds Kaius had left over its limbs.

The spear slammed home into its face, the blade sinking down to the lugs as the weapon's weight sent its corpse sprawling.

**Ding! level 15 Undead Huntsman slain**

Kaius let out a hoot of success, pumping the air. “Bullseye!” he said with a grin.

Reaching the corpse, he yanked his spear free. Only a short walk from the lodge that had been set into the cave, Kaius could see the final undead struggling as it clawed its way across the ground, a shattered knee preventing it from rising.

“Pathetic things, aren’t they?” Kaius said to himself as he watched it haul itself across the dirt on one good arm..

Finishing it off took even less effort than the walk over to it.

**Ding! level 14 Undead Huntsman slain**

Pulling his spear free from its skull, Kaius cleaned its point in the soft earth before looking over to the lodge's compound. It was entirely empty, draped in shadow by the stone hollow it had been built in. It was an eerie sight, one that heightened Kaius’s senses. Some primal insight that baulked at the unmoving silence of the buildings.

A flicker of intent brought up his resources.

Resources:

Health - 200/200 (2/min)

Stamina - 64/200 (2/min)

Mana - 120/120 (2/min)

His eyes flicked back to the ominous buildings.

“Not a chance in the Pit that I'm going in there without all my Stamina. There’s more of them inside, sure as a merchant’s a swindler.”

Oh sure, the temptation was there. To kick the door in with a wild yell, engaging whatever he found in a brawl. Relying on his strength of arm and his skill with the blade to see him through the day - but he would have to be a massive idiot to do that. There could be anything inside those buildings. Another handful of undead? Sure, he could manage that. It could also just as easily be some witch, or undead necromancer, and he had no intention of risking his life for a Song.

So he slunk back into the tree line, taking a few minutes to find his pack. After digging through it to secure a water skin and a handful of too-smoky jerky, he returned to the tree he had first inspected the lodge from. He rested his back against the trunk, yanking at his tough strip of dried meat with clenched teeth. It really needed some salt, the muted ashy taste pulling all the moisture from his mouth. He kept his eyes on the lodge, ears tuned in to catch anything that might be approaching from within the forest.

With a stout tree at his back he wasn't too worried, but it always paid to be careful.

Kaius exited the trees, his stamina back to full after waiting for just over an hour. Spear in hand and sword on his hip he made his way towards the lodge compound.

His first target was the smoke house. His reasoning was simple, it was a hell of a lot smaller than the lodge itself. Which meant if it was full of undead, it would most likely have less of them. The squat stone building seemed to loom over him, its tall chimney rising up just higher than the lip of the shallow cave that the compound was built into.

He tried to peer through its thin slitted windows, but they were too high up for him to get a good look. Plus, it looked pretty dark in there.

Circling the building, he found a door facing towards the centre of the compound. It was as stout and imposing as the building itself, built of rough hewn planks reinforced with iron, a simple wooden gravity latch holding it shut.

He reached out, tense and ready to react as he gripped the wooden bar that held the door shut. He lifted the mechanism in a quick jerk, shoving the door open as he leapt backwards and levelled his spear at the now open entryway.

It swung inwards, hitting the wall behind it with a clatter of wood and stone. Kaius furrowed his brow, peering into the dark interior of the building. Judging by the lack of sound, it was empty. He still didn't trust it. Holding his spear at the ready, he stepped through the shadowy threshold.

His mouth flattened into a tight line as he drank in the interior. Whatever strange intelligence formulated the biomes of the Depths certainly did have grim sensibilities. In the centre of the smoke house there was a burnt out fire pit, metal butchery hooks attached to the rafters above. Humanoid limbs hung suspended, desiccation unable to hide the grizzly evidence of consumption.

He certainly didn't miss that some were noticeably smaller than the others.

Kaius spat on the floor, a hot rush of anger suffocating his disgust. He turned on his heel, marching out of the smoke house as he pulled shut the door behind him.

He knew it was a set piece. It was common knowledge that while the Depths often contained some shattered mirror reflections of things that existed - or once did - it twisted them to fit whatever strange logic was behind its biomes. There were a dozen campfire stories of delvers coming across some truly twisted regions.

It still didn't sit right with him. He was no stranger to blood and guts, but it just wasn’t right.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He still had another building to clear. If the smoke house was free of undead, the lodge sure as hell would have some.

He approached the wide stone veranda, picking his way through the fur tanning racks that dotted its expanse. Not that the things stretched across the frame could ever be considered so valuable a good, what with the blatant strips of dried flesh and massive holes. A few of them he moved, clearing them away from the path to the door.

He winced as their brittle frames clattered against the floor, waiting for some clamouring horde to fall on his head at the noise. Thankfully the cave and buildings within stayed blessedly silent.

He approached the entrance, made of the same rough hewn and reinforced wood as the previous one. Though no less ready than the first building, his heart stayed steady as he grabbed the latch. A final steady breath centred his mind. He flung the door open.

The interior was shadowy and dark. To his surprise the building was completely open on the inside. He entered cautiously, spear held at the ready.

The moment his foot crossed the threshold ensconced torches flared to life, throwing the interior of the building into stark relief. Kaius’s eyes widened, momentarily blinded. Blood pulsed, throbbing in his neck as his heart rate accelerated.

A soft grunt grabbed his attention. Whipping his head around, he focused on the source of the sound.

There, at the head of the hall, sat a great monstrosity. Enthroned on a seat of rotting fur and splintered bone, its black eyes drilled into him. The grotesque sneer that split its face conveying a level of contempt that chilled his blood.

Its muscle bound body had more draught than a draught horse, a complete lack of body fat revealing every single striation in its musculature, to the point it looked almost flayed. At least, the definition that wasn't marred by its diseased and pockmarked skin.

Its black unblinking eyes never left his own as it slowly reached down, grabbing a blood stained cleaver that must have been the size of his thigh.

A slow and purposeful rise brought it to its full height, the overly thick leather apron that covered its front rustling with the movement. It towered over Kaius, easily a stride and a half taller than him - and he towered over the villagers he had met at a strapping six and a half strides tall.

This was no mere mindless undead.

It smiled, rotten teeth poking out from behind scarred lips.

**Ding! You have challenged a Champion: The Hungry Butcher **

“Shit.”