After leaving the tunnel, Kaius descended into the strange glowing forest that he had found so deep beneath the surface. He crept across a dense carpet of lichens, the fungus squelching underfoot as he pushed yet another dense bush out of the way. It glowed with soft illumination to match the canopy of the trees above, spores shimmering almost imperceptibly as they were kicked up with every step. The flat light draped the underbrush, the lack of shadows playing hell with his depth perception.

    He moved from tree to tree, making sure to hide behind their bulk as much as physically possible. As he moved his gaze roved over his surroundings, Kaius made use of his Tracking skill to survey the surrounding area.

    A scratched root here, disturbed undergrowth there, even the odd far-off grunt revealed the presence of beasts living amongst the trees.

    Kaius was determined to make it to the ruined structure he had seen. He couldn''t risk attracting the attention of whatever denizens lived in the grove without having a defensible location to fight from.

    He was confident in his skills. Just last week he had managed to clear a nest of boggarts. Without his father stepping in. High-level depths-born were something else entirely. He''d seen a delver once, muttering into his cup at the Stout Oak about a run gone bad. How they pursued intruders with dogged single-mindedness, free of fear.

    The undead would hopefully be a different story. At lower levels, they could be among the most dangerous. Wights that inflicted fatal contagion with but a touch. Incorporeal spirits immune to all wounds, yet still able to tear out your throat. Higher up, where he was, they were little more than empowered corpses, hamstrung by the slowing touch of the grave.

    With a little care and dexterity, he should be safe from their clumsy strength.

    He should be getting close to the church he had spied from above. Though it had only looked like a half-hour walk, the terrain had slowed him. He was eager to see what else he could find, the opening in the trees had been far too big for the single building he had seen poking over the canopy.

    The forest opened up, revealing a battered church that stood proud in a sea of gravestones. A low stone wall guarding the perimeter.

    While it might have once been grandiose, age had not been kind to it. Shattered tiles covered the roof, barely protecting it from the elements. Thin stone openings dotted its cracked walls. Glass long since shattered, only the rotten remnants of shutters remained to sway in the strange breeze that flowed through the cavern.

    Buildings were common enough in the Depths. Apparently, as you got deeper it was possible to find entire ruined fortresses, even cities. Rich in artefacts, forgotten language, and lost culture, it was almost impossible to believe that they were all creations of the dungeon.

    Did the Depths create it all whole cloth, the creation of some dreaming intelligence? Or was it simply watching, creating twisted inversions of the world above? Perhaps in some long-forgotten time this church had stood in some rich glade of the Greenseed Dukedoms, only to find itself reflected in the endless Depths long after it had turned to dust?

    Kaius moved on quickly from his musings, His eyes moving to the expansive graveyard that circled the church. There was no order to the graves. Flat planes of stone rising abruptly from the earth in a haphazard manner. So different from the orderly rows that lay on the outskirts of frontier villages.

    Wait. Was that? It was.

    A figure shambled out from behind a headstone, plodding its way through the graves. It paused. Waiting. It turned in place, seemingly scanning the field in front of it. It found nothing, moving off in what seemed to be a random direction.

    Kaius narrowed his eyes, scanning the graveyard. More jumped out to him, though to his relief they were few in number.

    Five in total and gaunt of frame, the figures shambled around in meaningless circles as they stumbled over hidden debris. They were scattered across the graveyard, each moving as if they were completely unaware of their compatriots. Their patrol was lilting, seemingly without any true vigilance. Like old, half-remembered, orders - a bodily habit followed blindly.

    Despite the distance, Kaius could still make out the presence of mouldering leather cuirasses and rusted iron helms, as well as a motley collection of pitted weapons held loosely in unresponsive fists. One stood out above the rest, draped in chainmail and a solid helm, holding a massive club in both hands. That one would be a tough nut to crack.

    The way they were spread out amongst the graves, and their seeming total lack of cooperation, could work in his favour. He liked his chances much better if he could force them to face him one at a time. Being undead, they lacked the regenerative vigour of Health. Even if they kept coming until he destroyed the core of their reanimating magics - usually the head- he could whittle them down with crippling blows.

    As long as he could stop them from swarming him, that is.

    Kaius bent down, rooting around for a stone. "If it worked once.."

    He found one, working it loose.

    "This should do nicely."

    He needed to get closer.

    "Now.. where do I want to do this."

    He got his feet under him, bracing his rear foot against the wall so he could bolt and reposition at the slightest sign he had been discovered.

    But... nothing.

    With a soft sigh of relief, he set down his sword, before unbuckling his pack and resting it gently down against the hard stone barrier.

    Picking up his sword with his off-hand he snatched the rock with his dominant. It would let him start the confrontation on his own terms. He rose. Eyes barely peeking over the chest-high wall. Taking in the undead.

    The closest one commanded his attention, his first target. Just close enough to be in range of his throwing arm.

    Gaunt and withered, it looked like a two-week-old corpse had been left out on a smoking rack. Decrepit, but dry. No leaking sludge or flesh-melting sores. No decay. Mouldering boiled leather clad its figure, while it clenched a pitted shortsword between almost skeletal fingers.

    Sense Weakness nudged him. Made his vision drift higher

    There, next to a shrivelled ear, was a spot where something had ravaged the creature deep before whatever animating magic had stalled off its effects. The bone of its temple was exposed, sunbleached and almost splintering.

    Kaius''s eyes narrowed. Locked on that point. In a single fluid motion, Kaius rose to his feet, drawing his arm back before hurling his fist-sized rock with practised accuracy.

    Breath caught in his throat. Kaius watched the stone hurtle through the air as he palmed his longsword back to his dominant hand.

    The stone connected.

    Splintered bone caved in. A crack rang out across the graves. The stone embedded deep in its watery grey matter.

    Its body crumpled.

    **Ding! level 12 Wretched Militiaman slain**

    **Ding! Sense Weakness has reached level 16!**

    Sense Weakness:

    Level 16

    Rare

    Hearts, lungs, brains, arteries, eyes, mana cores, light, water, acid, or poison. Everything has a weakness. Everything.

    Increases awareness of exploitable vulnerabilities in foes.

    Each level slightly increases efficacy. Esoteric and magical vulnerabilities, and foes, are more resistant to this insight.

    The rhythmic shuffle of the undead stopped. The remaining four, spread out across the graves, turned towards the sound. As one they locked their gazes on him. Blackened orbs burning a hole in his own.

    His stomach dropped.

    Kaius had to fight to keep his grip suitably relaxed for swordplay. Steeling himself he took a few confident side steps. Holding his place in the opening of the wall, ready to make his stand.

    As soon as he moved, whatever spell held the undead enthralled broke. With a jerky lilting gait, they set off towards him. Ready and willing to rend the flesh from his bones