Adventurers’ Guild of Zarath part 2

The Heart of the Mine
The central chamber was vast — the old mining pit, where veins of silver and blackstone crossed. Lanterns flickered against the walls, revealing shapes in the gloom.

At first, I thought they were statues. Then one moved.

A miner — or what had once been one — rose slowly from the ash. His skin glowed faintly red from beneath, eyes hollow sockets leaking dark smoke. Others stirred around him, dozens.

“Corrupted dead,” Awen gasped. “But not reanimated — infested.”
“Form ranks!” Voss barked.

The first wave shambled forward, half-molten, half-human, their movements jerky, guided by unseen will. Kael charged, cleaving through two with a single sweep, molten fragments hissing as they struck the damp floor.

I drew steel and joined him — blade meeting ash-flesh that crumbled and screamed without a throat. Lira’s arrows thudded into skulls, each one bursting in a puff of black dust.

The air turned thick, the whispers louder. Somewhere beyond the pit, something pulsed — a heart of ember light, throbbing in the rock.

“Source,” Corven shouted. “That’s the breach!”

The Dilemma
A faint cry echoed through the far shaft — human. “Help! Someone—please!”

Trapped miners.

Voss turned to me. “Your call, recruit. We can rescue them or seal the breach now. We can’t do both before this place comes down.”

I looked at the glowing fissure — the corruption spreading like veins through the stone — and then at the tunnel where the cries came from.

Every second counted.

I chose to run toward the cries. The others followed without hesitation. We found three miners pinned beneath debris, eyes wide with terror. Awen healed the worst of them while Kael hauled rocks away. The roof trembled as the pit convulsed, but we made it out — barely. Voss’s squad collapsed the breach from above, sealing whatever was inside.

We emerged at dusk, black with soot and blood. The foreman met us again, tears streaking through the grime on his face.

“Is it done?” he asked. “It’s sealed,” Voss said. “You won’t mine here again.”

The guild envoys took samples of the ash. The Church would have them sanctified; the Inquisition logged the sigils. They called it “containment.”

I called it something else.

Back in Valenhold, Kerrin handed me a new badge — silver inlaid with the guild crest. “Silver Rank,” she said. “You’ve earned it. You handled command under pressure.”

I thanked her, but my hands still smelled of smoke.

Later, in the tavern, Lira clinked her mug against mine. “Welcome to Silver,” she said. “You’ll find the pay’s better. The nightmares? Not so much.”

Kael only watched from across the table, eyes distant, as if listening to something I couldn’t hear.

When I caught his gaze, he looked away — too quickly.

That night, Valenhold’s bells tolled once — a single, low note that carried over the rooftops. The Church’s signal for “contained corruption.”

But the wind from the north smelled faintly of ash. And for a moment, I thought I heard the faint echo of voices —

“...ashes remember…”

Smoke on the Eastern Road
We’d barely cleaned the soot from our gear when the next contract arrived. A sealed missive from the governor’s office — crimson wax stamped with the twin eagle of Zarath.

“Diplomatic escort,” Voss read aloud, his tone equal parts disbelief and exhaustion. “Merchants from Xin Long crossing through Valeria with a convoy of trade goods. We’re to ensure nothing ‘unfortunate’ happens before the border meeting.”

Lira snorted. “So, we’re glorified babysitters.”

Kerrin handed her the document. “Babysitters with pay triple your usual rate. The governor doesn’t trust his soldiers to play nice with Xin Long envoys. The Guild’s neutrality has its uses.”

Voss turned to me. “You’re Silver now. Congratulations. You’re also scribe for this mission — record everything. Words weigh more than swords when politics get ugly.”

“Lucky me,” I muttered.

The Road East
The Eastern Road was a narrow ribbon of stone hugging the Kwo Ning River. The air smelled of pine and wet earth, and the mist rolled low across the water. On the far bank, we could see the red banners of Xin Long fluttering faintly — a reminder that one wrong move could spark a border skirmish.

Our convoy was a strange parade:
Two wagons laden with lacquered crates, silks, and tea leaves.
A diplomatic envoy from Valenhold — stiff, perfumed men who’d never held a sword.
A half-dozen Xin Long merchants in embroidered coats, their faces calm but unreadable.And us — the Guild escort, sandwiched between soldiers from both sides.

“Love this job,” Lira muttered as she adjusted her bow.
“No one trusts anyone, and we’re stuck in the middle.” Kael grinned.
“Trust builds under pressure. Or burns.” Voss gave him a look. “Let’s aim for the first option.”

Smoke in the Pines
By midday, the road narrowed into a stretch hemmed by tall firs. That’s when we saw it — faint plumes of smoke drifting above the trees.

“Campfire?” I asked.
“Too much smoke for that,” Kael said, voice low. “More like signal fire.”

A scout from the Valenhold soldiers galloped back. “Movement east of the ridge! Could be Xin Long watchers!”

The envoy began shouting — accusations, orders, panic. The Xin Long merchants stiffened, speaking rapidly in their own tongue.

Voss raised his hand. “Hold your ground! No one draws steel without my order!”

For a heartbeat, the air itself seemed to tremble. Then the shouting died down, leaving only the wind and the crackle of burning wood somewhere ahead.

The Sabotage
We found the first damaged cart at the next turn. Axle snapped clean, wheel splintered — not by accident. Someone had sawed halfway through the wood days before, just waiting for the right bump to break it.

“Inside job,” Lira muttered, crouching to inspect the cut. “Too precise for bandits.”
One of the merchants stepped forward, clutching his sleeve. “Are you accusing us, adventurer?”
“Not yet,” Voss said coolly. “But I will if you keep talking.”

Kael pried open a crate from the broken wagon. Silk. Spices. Porcelain. All normal — until he reached the false bottom.

He stopped. “Captain,” he said quietly, “you’ll want to see this.”

Inside was a small, blackened object — a metal idol the size of a fist, carved with sigils like those we’d seen in the Greystone mine. It pulsed faintly, as if breathing.

The air around it grew colder.

“Demon relic,” Awen whispered, voice trembling. “That’s how they’re spreading. Through trade.”

The Dilemma

The envoy demanded we report it as Xin Long sabotage. The Xin Long merchants swore ignorance, claiming the relic was planted to discredit them. The soldiers reached for their weapons.

“Enough!” I said, stepping between them. “We don’t accuse anyone until we have proof. The Guild’s name depends on neutrality.”

Voss gave me a sidelong look — not of surprise, but approval. “You heard the Silver. We search every cart.”

For hours, we checked each wagon, each crate. Most were clean — until we reached the rear cart. There, hidden among dried tea bricks, we found three more idols. The merchant guarding them bolted before anyone could shout.

Kael was faster. He tackled the man into the dirt, one arm pinning him as the smuggler writhed and hissed. His eyes — now glowing faintly red — gave him away.

“Not human,” Lira spat.

The smuggler’s voice broke into a dozen whispers.

“The ashes travel where greed does… trade will feed the flame…”

Awen thrust her hand forward, chanting a banishment prayer. The whispers turned into a scream, then silence. The man’s body went still — hollowed out, like something had burned him from the inside.

We buried him by the road, without ceremony.

Aftermath at the Border
By the time we reached the Old Stone Bridge, both sides were on edge. But the evidence — the relics, the journals, the markings — told a clearer story: demonic contraband, smuggled under the guise of Xin Long goods.

Neither side wanted to claim responsibility. Both quietly agreed to “joint investigation.”

Political theater at its finest.

The convoy crossed without bloodshed, but tension lingered in every glance. As the last wagon rolled away, Voss clapped my shoulder.

“You kept heads cool when blades were itching to draw. That’s command material.”
“I just didn’t want to start a war over a cursed tea shipment.”
“Same thing.”
Lira smirked. “Look at you — Silver rank one week, talking down diplomats the next.”
Kael added softly, “You did well. Better than most captains I’ve served under.”

Something in his tone caught me — quiet pride, and a hint of something older.

Return to Valenhold
Back at the Guild, Kerrin handed me a new badge — this one trimmed with gold filigree.
“Gold Rank,” she said, allowing herself a rare smile. “Few reach it this quickly. The Empire noticed your report — and the fact that you prevented an international incident.”

“Just doing the job,” I said. “That’s exactly why they trust you to do more.”

Outside, the streets of Valenhold shimmered with sunset light. Merchants called, bells rang, and for a moment, the world looked ordinary again.

But as I turned the badge over in my palm, I noticed a faint smear of black dust clinging to the edge — ash that hadn’t washed away since Greystone.

Lira joined me by the gate, her cloak drawn close. “Strange, isn’t it? Every road we walk seems to lead to ash.”
“Maybe the world’s just catching fire slowly,” I said.
Kael’s voice came from behind us — quiet, thoughtful. “Not fire. Something older. Something waiting.”

I didn’t understand what he meant then. But later, I would.

When the moon rose red over Valenhold, and I heard the first distant howl echo from the northern woods; I began to realize that some of my comrades were not entirely what they seemed.

Echoes Beneath Valeria
You can tell something’s wrong with a city by its silence. Valenhold was never quiet. Not even at night. There were always bells, hawkers, music drifting from taverns, or the hammering of the forges by the riverfront.

But tonight, only the wind moved. And the wind carried the smell of ash.

The Summons
When the bell tower tolled the Guild’s emergency call, I was already halfway there. Kerrin stood in the courtyard, armor hastily strapped over her tunic, shouting orders. The notice board was buried under requisitions — every squad, every rank, mobilized.

“Multiple outbreaks,” she said as I approached. “Basement fires. Collapsing streets. The source is under the old district. You’re leading Silver and Bronze teams on civilian evacuation.”
“What about the Golds and Voss’s unit?” I asked.
“Down below,” she said grimly. “Something’s alive under the city.”

Lira and Kael appeared from the smoke, faces streaked with soot. “North gate’s holding,” Lira reported. “But if that rumbling keeps up, the catacombs might cave in.”
Kael just looked at me, eyes bright even in the dim light. “We’re going down there, aren’t we?”
I nodded. “If the Guild’s roots are burning, we can’t just douse the branches.”

The Catacombs of Valenhold
The old tunnels beneath the guild had once been burial vaults — cool, narrow, and quiet. Now they glowed faintly red, veins of molten light crawling through the stone.

Voss met us at the junction. His armor was blackened; half his squad was missing. “About time you got here,” he growled. “Something’s bleeding corruption through the lower levels. We seal one passage, and it opens another.”

Corven — alive but pale — pressed a shaking hand to the wall. “It’s not spreading randomly. It’s moving. As if it knows where we’re going.”

“The ash remembers,” I murmured before I could stop myself.

Voss gave a sharp nod. “Then let’s remind it who it’s dealing with.”

Siege Below and Above
We split forces:

Bronze squads handled the barricades on the upper levels — shoring up tunnels, rerouting panicked citizens through the old aqueducts.

Silver teams kept the triage line running — healing, resupplying, hauling wounded adventurers up the stairs.

Our Gold unit, with Voss, Kael, Lira, and Awen, pushed downward toward the source.

The noise down there was monstrous — a heartbeat in the rock. With every pulse, dust rained from the ceiling and lantern flames flickered blue.

We passed melted skeletons fused into the walls, ancient sigils blackened by centuries of decay.

Awen stopped short. “These markings… they’re guild seals. Old ones. Pre-Imperial.” Kerrin’s voice came through the speaking crystal. “Confirmed. The Guild Hall was built atop a relic site. Keep moving — and gods help us, find that thing.”