Steps echoed through a passage that had not seen a living soul in centuries. A solid, broken clank echoed off the old, dusty stones. Rusted hinges creaked in a warning while the door swung inward. Light of the quartet’s lanterns reached into the room, chasing away shadows empathized by a thick mist. The cause for this mist was quickly spotted. The half-rotten stairs lead down into the chamber. Dark pools Dúnedain faintly recognized by their colors, a deep purple and red mixed with faint swirls of rotting green.

“The Mire’s waters are capable of reaching this far? Even this place?” He muttered, and tilted his head. “I didn’t know it could go this far up.”

As the party stepped into the room the scent of rot and dust reached their noses. The chamber positively stank of it, and Dúnedain barely repressed his sneeze. He turned to the other three Coursers instead. “Watch your step.”

“No need to tell us that.” Grenwyx gagged. “Ugh, I’m glad I’m alright. Wouldn’t want to have any open wounds on my legs right now.”

“Can it, Grenwyx.” Mercuras snapped at the mare. He winced when the bandage on his left front leg quickly absorbed the odd muck. “This is going to be hell to heal from. Ew.”

“Don’t be a child, brother.” Ganymede was the last to enter the chamber, taking the rear. They drew their sword and glared around the room. “You’re tougher than you look.”

“You’re right about that. I’d only worry about his hide if he stopped talking.” Grenwyx laughed. She turned back to the one leading their party. “Dúnedain, where’s the exit?”

“Down here.”  The buckskin said. He led the four of them through the room until they were stopped by a lot of metal. A long, out-of-place metal grate blocked the passage before them. It reached the ceiling itself.

“Hmm. How do we open it?” Ganymede asked. They were the first to inspect the grate. And the first to step back when a figure rushed past it. “What was that?”

“I don’t know.” Dúnedain frowned. He raised the lantern higher. “It could be my nerves talking, but I swear it feels like there is something else there.”

“Could it be one of my episodes striking again?” Mercuras mused behind him. “It’d be easier to think if that bloody headache would just disappear.”

“Take your medicine, and let’s go.” Grenwyx snapped. She turned around to buck at the grate. As she did, something moved again. This time Dúnedain knew she had seen it too because the bay went a few shades paler and stepped back. He would scold her, but he was feeling quite the same way. Something was behind the grate blocking their way forward. And whatever it was, it was setting all of his instincts on high alert. It was wrong.

The quartet froze when there was a sudden noise. Tilting their ears forward they pointed their lights at the darkness beyond the gate. Then, it came again, a cracking sound. The horrendous sound of cracking bone that grew louder and louder. Too stunned to react they all saw the figure slam itself against the gate. A far too pale no- a bone white skull-like something drew back and rammed itself against the gate again. It opened their muzzle and a new voice echoed throughout the room.

“Help me! Please!” The skeleton Courser clattered. Its voice was nothing but grinding bone and dust. “Get me out of this place!”

“I can’t-“ Dúnedain began. Bone clicked on stone. The being lunged for his leg. He almost managed to leap back with a scared whinny. But the snarling skull seizes his leg with two large jaws. And then it pulled.

Pain ran through Dúnedain’s head as he was slammed against the bars. Darkness danced at the edges of his vision. Hot, rotting air washes over his face as something cold and wet snuffles on his right ear. Another snarl rose, right next to his aching skull. “Let. Me. Out.”

“No!” Ganymede shouted as the skull bit down. “Let him go!”

And then Dúnedain was let go. Silence. An awful, deafening silence rang through his skull as he tried to breathe. It took a while for him to calm down. When he popped back into focus his throat was sore from restraining his frantic gasps. And he was shivering something fierce with Mercuras pressed to his side.

“Back with us?” Mercuras asked. His voice was kept low. Dúnedain nodded, for once being absolutely chilled to the bone. “C-cold. But alive.”

“That was an undead, right?” Ganymede asked. None said no. She rose to her feet with something held in her mouth. Dúnedain shivered when he saw it was a giant ax. At her hooves laid the skeletal being, head separated by the body. “What do we do with it?”

“Burn in.” Grenwyx said. “Burn it and move on. Before we stay too long and that is what’s going to happen to us.”

“Good to stand?” Mercuras muttered in Dúnedain’s ear. He flinched but nodded. He moved back to give the other stallion some room. They all stood back a few paces while Grenwyx focused on the door. Her buck, straight against the metal, dislodged the gate. It fell  to the floor with a bang that echoed too. But at least it was not the echo of breaking bone.

“I really fucking hope we don’t find anything else like that, any time soon.”