Pilgrim said nothing, drawing the sword as another creature stumbled clear of the arch, swiftly followed by two more. Unlike the woman, they evidently felt no need to pause before launching themselves at the living intruders, each shrieking as they charged, taloned hands outstretched. Seeker’s arrow took one, the shaft spearing it through the head, whilst Pilgrim sliced another in two with a lateral slash of the sword. Kusiph tackled the third, darting forward to stab the point of his scimitar into its chest with professional accurary. The thing failed to die, however, countering with a slash of its claws that Kusiph only just managed to duck under. The wight lunged for him again, then shrieked even louder when Pilgrim brought the sword down on its outstretched arms, severing both at the elbow.

“The heart won’t do,” he informed Kusiph, whirling to lop the creature’s head from its shoulders. Ichor erupted from the stump in a black geyser as it slipped to the ground, twitched and lay still. The upper half of the wight Pilgrim had cut in two continued to crawl towards them, nails digging into the stone as it dragged itself on until Player stepped forward and stamped a boot onto its head, crushing the skull.

Stronger than he looks, the Voice observed. There’s more to this one than just a mask and a good deal of pretension.

“Back!” Pilgrim said as more wights emerged from the arch. They swarmed towards them in a thick mass a dozen strong, closing the distance quickly only to be cut down. The sword scythed through three with one stroke, whilst Seeker’s arrows and Kusiph’s scimitar did similarly deadly work. As he swung the sword, Pilgrim cast repeated glances up at the opening, the voice’s warning of Priest’s possible treachery gaining more resonance with every second he failed to reappear.

And I thought the reptiles tasted foul, the voice griped as Pilgrim cut down the last wight, a spindly wretch no more than four feet tall that might once have been an adolescent, whether boy or girl he couldn’t tell.

“Is that all of them?” Book enquired. He stood backed up against the spire wall, eyes wide with terror and his staff clutched in his hands. Pilgrim couldn’t see any stains on the staff.

“It seems so,” Kusiph said, cautiously stepping forward to peer into the arch. “Looks empty.”