The grey creatures were far from shambling corpses.

As soon as the wall nearest the western doors had parted enough for one of the ghouls to push through the creature was out, looking to and fro with darkened sockets. It seemed to focus on the nearest living thing, the human beyond the wall of blades and darted in with unnerving speed, its long limbs thrashing at the face of Tradden with sharp, yellow claws.

It caught the blades against the flat of its arms and struck at the young fighter’s face.

The blades did their work, however, pushing the ghoul back far enough so that its claws could not reach his face.

The dwarf’s hammer slammed into the ghoul’s chest knocking it back against the wall of the tiny alcove.

The ghoul furthest away slowly ducked under the chain before scanning the chamber. It seemed to sense Khalin as the closest victim it moved in for the kill quickly.

As it moved close it drew back one of its arms and slashed at the dwarf’s flank with razor sharp claws.

Khalin managed to swing his shield around just in time and the ghoul met blank steel instead of flesh.

The creatures were weak-willed things, pitiful in Kireth’s eyes. The simple spell he threw at them seemed to hold fast and make them spasm and squirm. The one on Khalin’s right bore the brunt of the spell, its claws reaching up to its head to hold them there fast whilst it shrieked with pain.

The other joined its comrade soon after, raising its head to cry out.

It was only then that Kireth, and Khalin behind his shield, noticed the ghoul had no eyes, only empty sockets where eyes would once have been.

It took a moment for the pitiful creature to recover from the mage’s spell. It could sense the dwarf before it, though, his life burning bright. With untold hate the ghoul struck out with its limbs, its tattered and bedraggled clothes flailing as it struck.

The claws cut past Khalin’s shield and raked across his cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. The touch was icy cold and the warlord could feel his limbs stiffen and his own eyes darken at the edges.

The rogue’s aim was hasty, however, and the bolt sang past the ghoul’s shoulder and skittered against the stonework in the recess.

From the hidden chamber nearest Tradden another ghoul ducked under the chain. This one staggered across the passage, intent on something that its eyeless face appeared to see, grasping the chain with both hands until it got close to Beltak, ducking under Tradden’s blades.

It took one long-fingered hand from the chain and struck out at the scribe, trying to reach past his shield and tear at his murmuring lips.

The claws were unnervingly accurate, cutting across Beltak’s face with a swift rake.

‘They don’t seem to be moving slowly to me,’ called Beltak to Tradden over the melee as he ducked another blow from the ghoul in front of him. ‘But we keep them here, right?’ he asked as he swung his mace around in an arc.

The mace landed a hefty blow in the ghoul’s chest with a flash of yellow light. The creature let go of the chain for a moment to cover what would have once been it eyes.

‘Not sure my legs can carry me anywhere, in any case!’ the scribe continued shouting at Tradden.

The thrill of the blow, however, brought vigour to the scribe, and he could feel the chill of the ghoul’s touch leaving him.

The ghoul furthest away had not even seemed to have noticed Zero’s hasty shot, ignoring the rogue and following the chain along the wall straight towards Kireth.

It kept its head down, fingering the top of the chain as it skipped over the stone floor with a limping stride. It closed in quickly, though, and grasped out with both its claws.

The claws bit through Kireth’s robes easily, raking across his arm, and bringing a numbing cold.

The last of the ghouls clambered out of its recess, hissing and spitting. It turned towards the group and ran down the passageway.

Its path was blocked by the other ghouls, though, both Tradden and Beltak out of reach of even its long arms. It had to be content with hissing and spluttering behind the other two.

Tradden had caught the light well and it distracted all of the ghouls. The two closest him lowered their guard and the young fighter struck with his slash, just as one of the others lumbered towards him almost hypnotised into the follow-through.

The others, although distracted, could not get close to him, blocked by either Khalin, Kireth, or the other ghouls in the corridor.

Tradden’s blades did not stop moving even when the ghouls re-asserted themselves. The first of the creatures almost stumbled into the young fighter’s slashes.

It took a glancing blow before grabbing hold of the chain for support. With its other arm it swung wildly in the general direction of the young fighter’s face.

Despite Tradden’s whirling stance the ghoul managed to find an opening, drawing a thin line of blood down the young fighter’s cheek. The touch took the breath out of him.

The hammer pummelled the creature with a sickening crunch, shattering the arm that held onto the chain causing the eyeballs to jangle against wall where they could, the tautness of the chain now gone.

The ghoul hissed in pain as its arm dangled loosely at its side. Trapped between the dwarf and the young fighter it was pressed further into Tradden’s slicing blades.

The young fighter’s shortsword sliced it across its midriff, but the thing did not fall. Instead it threw out its other arm, trying to rake any flesh it could find.

It staggered as it struck but the claws still managed to sweep across Tradden’s thigh, spreading their chilling touch to match the marks upon his face.

Free of the ghoul’s presence and the warmth of satisfaction of action, the mage’s brief torpor passed quickly.

Backed into the alcove the ghoul before Khalin hissed. Its empty eye sockets still seemed to burn with malevolence to the dwarf, but the head appeared focused on Tradden, rather than the warlord. The dwarf was merely an obstacle in the way to the young fighter.

With a screech it lunged at Khalin, trying to bowl past him with a flailing arm.

The warlord was ready for the attack, thrusting out his shield and blocking the clumsy swipe.

‘Curses!’ spat the rogue as the bolt flew high and clattered against the curved sword of the statue and tumbling to the floor. For a moment Zero thought he saw the statue move, flickering to its right and twisting, but it must have been his eyes playing tricks on him.

In front of Beltak the eyeless ghoul tried to duck and evade Tradden’s whirling blades with little success, the sharp edges cutting across its grey skin.

A shrill keening escaped its paper-thin lips as it switched its attention from the scribe to the young fighter, drawn by Tradden’s threat.

The claws dug deep into Tradden’s exposed neck and the chill and pain the young fighter already bore intensified.

As the scribe intoned the words of power, the two nearest ghouls used the opportunity to strike at him.

The first ghoul struck, surprising Beltak with its ferocity, and the scribe could feel a chill begin to spread throughout his body. The second ghoul lurched in with its own, attempting to sink them deep into the scribe’s arm.

The final words of Beltak’s prayer escaped his lips with a rush and a scream as the scribe stiffened.

The light cascaded from Beltak’s symbol, tumbling over his friends and then striking harshly at the ghouls surrounding them. Three began to burn with an acrid stench, the one between Tradden and Khalin toppled over with a crash to the floor.

The chill had been brief for the scribe. The power of his prayer chasing away his own numbness as quickly as it had come.

The ghoul on the floor staggered to its feet.

Its socketless eyes seemed to stare coldly at Tradden before shifting slightly to the mage. With arms flailing it charged at the hooded half-elf.

The mage was ready for the ghoul’s retort, however, and kept the swinging limbs away with the butt of his staff.

Beyond the wall of melee the ghoul hissed and spat, clutching the chain on the wall, seething that it could not get past its allies and attack the human with the swords, blocked in and prevented from reaching its quarry.

Shaking off the number sensation Tradden readied himself for the next round… but a creeping chill, as though someone were staringly intently at his back, began to claw its way up his spine.

As Tradden swung fruitlessly at the ghoul to his left the one to the right took the opportunity to dive in.

Tradden caught the creature on his backswing, however, opening a deep wound across its grey chest. The thing did not seem to care and kept its push, trying to open up a cut of its own along the fighter’s flank.

The ghoul managed to rake down the side of Tradden and let out a hiss of delight.

The swing was met with the crunch of bone, but the creature still stood.

The others had their backs turned but both Zero and Kireth could now see plainly the statue, or part of the statue start to turn. It wasn’t the solid rock that moved, no grating or scraping, it seemed to be the essence of the statue, a wraith or shadow within it, taken from the dimly glowing black stones.

The thing lifted and turned, unfurling its three arms and the sickles that it held, its three hoods searching out across the chamber.

The bolt slammed into the ghoul’s chest, knocking it back for a brief moment. However, the thing continued to assail the mage, trying to find a way past Kireth’s trusty staff

With the taunts and shouts from Tradden subsided, the ghoul within the alcove could concetrate more on Khalin before it. The warlord seemed comfortable behind his shield, but the ghoul thrust and swung its limbs in attempt to find some weakness in his defence.

The shield was no barrier to the ghoul as it feinted and then struck a solid blow to the dwarf’s shoulder, its claws biting through the scale mail to rake across Khalin’s skin.

The bolt thudded into the empty eye socket of the ghoul and it toppled instantly with barely a thrash or hiss.

Holding the chain with its right hand clutched tightly around the links, the ghoul in front of Beltak used it as a lever to to help it dodge and sway from Tradden’s blows.

There was no escape from the whirling swords, however, and the ghoul took more cuts along its flank.

The ghoul wanted to stem the burning light from the priest, but Tradden had its attention. More importantly the young fighter was suffering from the cold of the ghouls’ blows, and would be an easier target.

Instead of lashing out with its arms the ghoul let go of the chain and jumped up, trying to sink its teeth into Tradden’s exposed neck.

The pain of the bite coursed through Tradden’s body and the young fighter could feel himself grow rigid with the cold.

Looking over his shoulder Beltak spied the threat that Kireth had warned them of, but with Tradden’s blades beside him stopping their whirl he knew there was pressing need for his help right where he stood. The statue would have to wait for a moment.

The scribe stepped back to make himself a little room.

With his arms now free he pulled out his holy symbol, pointing it at the ghoul directly in front of him, uttering the words of prayer.

Burning yellow light burst from the symbol and engulfed the ghoul, bathing Tradden in a glorious glow.

Tradden stuttered and spluttered as feeling returned to his limbs and he awkwardly continued to swing his blades in a defensive posture almost as though nothing had happened.

With its companion smoking on the floor the ghoul nearest the western doors stepped lithely over the corpse aiming for Tradden.

Weaving through the blades this ghoul also tried to bite at Tradden.

This one wasn’t as quick as its fallen companion, however, and despite his sluggishness Tradden was able to easily dodge the snarling jaws.

The ghoul had dodged Tradden’s main blow but could only sway into the path of the sweeps and cuts that rained in from the swift blades.

With the young fighter seemingly clear of the pains and colds that had frozen him to the spot only moments ago the ghoul decided not to lurch in with its rotting teeth but rather to rely on its sharp claws, raking them quickly across Tradden’s side.

They caught the edge of the youth’s chainmail sleeves, however, resulting in only a screech of metal and a hiss from the ghoul.

The essence of the statue glimmered with a dark sheen in the torchlight, translucent and glowing as though stars were at its core. Its blades matched that of the silent stone it left behind, curved and sharp, their edges catching the torchlight and reflecting it around the chamber.

Leaving the stone behind it floated towards the group, its faces shrouded by the cowls it wore.

The sickles continued to unfurl as it stretched out its three arms as it hovered off the dias, standing a couple of feet higher than even Tradden and with a reach to match it began to swing, solidifying as it struck all in its path.

The blades cut into the group, catching all but Tradden. Khalin came off the worst, his back turned to the eidolon, and the slash drew a line of agony across his back.

As the dwarf risked a look over his shoulder he was caught by a look from within the hood, as were the other two, Zero and Kireth, that were looking directly at the apparition.

All three went white, Zero staggering back with his arms before his face.

The attack was just a reaction, but the strength and power of the spell was plain to see. A chunk of the cowl facing Kireth cast off from the head of the statue to explode against the wall in a shower of black dust and the wraith screamed and twisted.

The mage still appeared to be in a state of shock, however, standing still and silent and watching the statue with a grim intent.

As the sound of shattering stone echoed around the chamber the ghoul within the alcove pressed its attack on the dazed dwarf. It struck out quickly with its arm, trying to capitalise upon the advantage it now had.

The creature raked down Khalin’s flank as the dwarf was caught turning towards the statue. The cold bit deep and he could feel his legs numbing once more.

The tumble into the corridor, at least, brought him cursing out of his stupor.

Beltak held his shield high against the statue before him, its curved blades swinging down in giant arcs at his head and shoulders. He had little place to go to free up some space for his prayers, the statue in front and a ghoul behind.

The rest of his comrades were faring well, though, most of the ghouls had been subdued, but Khalin was sorely pressed. Beltak uttered a short prayer to heal the dwarf’s wounds.

With the warlord invigorated, Beltak turned his attention to the statue and the ghoul behind him. From where he was he had little powers to combat the wraithlike figure that threatened to tear out of the stone, yet to attack the ghoul from here would draw the wrath of the statue, giving it an opportunity to strike with its blades.

‘Attack the wraith,’ Beltak urged Tradden as he moved close in on the ghoul.

With the hope that Tradden could get to the central foe, Beltak crashed down on the ghoul with his mace.

The mace slammed into the ghoul’s chest, but the thing hung onto the chain to its right to avoid falling in a heap.

The ghoul kept itself upright with the help of the chain, trying to use the momentum to swing out of the way of Tradden’s blades that simply would not stop.

Two foes stood before it once more, the one with the blades more threatening. It threw out an arm at Tradden, hoping to catch him distracted by Beltak’s call.

The young fighter was far too quick for the ghoul’s clumsy effort, however, and he blocked the arm with an easy swipe of his shortsword.

But the resolve did not come, the chill and befuddlement growing stronger.

The statue’s wraith had crept silently from the middle of the room but the group had reacted swiftly to the threat, one of the blades had been shattered and a cowl had been turned to dust. Even as the eidolon pushed forwards Tradden’s blade span and cut at it.

As the young fighter’s thrusts cut through the wraith it appeared to take a moment to stiffen its resolve.

Even with its half-sickle the statue was deadly, its reach long and ranging. Tradden tried to keep his own long reach and blades outstretched to push the statue back, but it still managed to swipe at the young fighter’s midriff.

The half-blade swept past Tradden’s defences and sliced into his midriff, cutting deep into the flesh.

Almost as soon as the blade struck the statue began to fade, becoming a ghostly outline of itself, the dark rock pulsing at its core.

In its ghostly state the even Tradden could not seem to harm it with his blades.

The thought was fleeting, the fog clouding the mage’s mind perhaps playing tricks of their own. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the images he had seen.

Slowly the fog appeared to part from his mind and the mage’s resolve grew alongside his ire.

The ghoul in the alcove appeared to straighten when the statue’s shadow began to fade. It stood taller and its limbs were stronger, fuller, and its actions were quicker. It struck out at Khalin, drawing the tiring warlord’s shield, before feinting and then lunging for his throat with its teeth.

The bite was chilling but burned like fire, coursing down the dwarf’s neck and into his chest. Then the feeling was gone. All feeling. It was all Khalin could do not to drop hbis hammer and shield.

Beltak saw Khalin stiffen from the ghoul’s bite and nearly topple. ‘Hold fast, Khalin!’ the scribe shouted and uttered a short prayer for the warlord.

With the ghoul in front of him seemingly concentrating on Tradden and the young fighter’s blades and taunts, Beltak decided to take a small risk, turning to his right once more and stretching out his symbol.

As the scribe concentrated on Khalin’s foe, the one next to him lashed out with it arm.

Beltak could feel the cold of the undying creature begin to fill his limbs, but the prayer he had started could not be stopped by a mere scratch.

A shaft of bright light sprang from Beltak’s symbol, passing through Khalin and cascaded into the ghoul. The thing burned brightly, blackened, and then fell at the dwarf’s feet. The light bathed Khalin…

…but it could not shift the torpor that plagued the dwarf.

The prayers were not enough to warm Beltak’s slowly chilling limbs either.

Despite Tradden’s taunts the last remaining ghoul could not ignore Beltak’s exposed back, and jumped on it, trying to sink its teeth into the scribe’s pale skin.

The scribe went rigid as the ghoul ripped at his flesh, not even able to utter a scream.

The ice in his legs was beginning to thaw, but the dwarf’s mind was still cloudy.

The ghostly statue kept its stationary position, assuming its stance, regardless of Tradden’s thrashing blades.

The young fighter’s thrusts and strokes appeared to pass straight through it, without any effect.

The veins of dark rock at the centre of the apparition began to pulse and throb with renewed vigour as its arms began to stretch out, the two sickles and the broken blade beginning to spin as the statue lost it ghostliness and struck out at those closest.

The statue became rock once more as the blades sliced through Tradden and Beltak. The broken blade swirled just short of Khalin and then Kireth, the pair saved by sheer luck.

The lightning cascaded and arced around the stone creature, running up and down the dark streaks like rivers of fire. For a moment Kireth hoped he had felled the thing, but then the lightning faded and the statue remained.

The ghoul in front of him looked ready to pounce but there was little Beltak could do about it. It dropped quickly down and a bolt skittered past the scribe’s shoulder, but Beltak was too frozen to move or dodge.

His mind befuddled it was all he could do to whisper a short prayer to Pelor before the thing before him tore out his throat.

Warmth and strength slowly returned to his limbs, but perhaps it was too late.

The ghoul hissed triumphantly at Beltak before him, the scribe motionless and his shield lowered. It dived towards him, teeth bared, aiming for the scribe’s throat.

Its triumph was misplaced, as was its arm that caught around the chain it had been holding, tripping the ghoul off balance and saving the scribe from a ghastly end.

The ringing in Khalin’s ears began to subside, and he could just about tell that the statue had been destroyed behind him.

The thing hissed back at the mage as it staggered a little, but it did not fall.

With a silent curse the rogue slipped back unseen into the shadows of the alcove.

Beltak could barely stand, his energy spent, and his mind befuddled. He could just about focus on the thing before him, its empty eye sockets staring back at him and his own blood dripping off the monstrousity’s crooked teeth.

It took all of the scribe’s remaining energy to stagger backwards a step.

As he moved back he raised his symbol in one last prayer, the edge of his eyesight slowly dulling.

But the prayer stumbled out of his lips and the power did not come.

Somehow sensing that the scribe’s last breath was but moments away and the lifeforce he carried was there for the taking the ghoul lurched forwards, letting go of the chain, oblivious to the swinging blades of Tradden.

Perhaps its lack of normal vision impaired its judgement as Tradden’s shortsword caught it across the neck, and for a moment the young fighter’s breath caught in his throat as he thought the thing had got past his defence.

However, it slumped forwards to the floor, the head parted from its shoulders, and lay still and silent in the dust and rubble of the statue.