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The abandoned cathedral looms ahead, its crumbling spires clawing at storm-charged skies. You tighten your grip on the rusted lantern—its flickering light barely cuts through the oppressive fog swirling around your boots. A low groan reverberates through weathered stone as you step over the threshold, the scent of decay clinging to the air like a burial shroud. Shadows writhe where the light doesn’t reach. Your pulse thrums in your ears, every instinct screaming that you’re not alone here. The lantern’s flame gutters suddenly—a cold breath ghosts across your neck. You spin, weapon half-drawn, but there’s nothing. Only the faintest echo of laughter, skittering down the collapsed nave like rats’ feet over bone. Somewhere deeper in the ruin, iron scrapes against iron. A promise. A warning. You press forward—the relic’s here. You’d bet your last silver dagger on it. Problem is, so’s whatever’s guarding the damned thing.
