The tunnel is silent now, the spiders and their unnerving sounds lost in the darkness. You stare at the guard's body a few moments, wrapped in your own thoughts.
The quiet is broken by the sword. "What did you think you were doing?"
"Fighting a spider—skull—thing…What was that?"
"A type of revenant, a malevolent spirit that can possess the living."
"The mist-stuff inside that skull?"
The sword ignores the question. "That display was disappointing. Again."
"What do you expect from me?"
"Competence?"
"I'm not a soldier!"
What you are is an orphan who's lived on the streets of Targas Adur for as long as you can remember. Far from being a soldier, you make your meager living by…