Adventure of Onefinger 1

The graveyard center lies under a single black cloud, while the rest of the night stays dry and still.

Onefinger stands at the edge of the circle of stones, his scales slick with cold rain and moonlight.

Ahead, the royal courier remains perfectly still, untouched by the storm. Water hisses around him and vanishes before it reaches his cloak.

His chant rises again, low and hard, and the earth answers with a shudder under Onefinger’s boots.

Around them, grave soil splits open. Pale hands and broken lids force their way up through the mud, one after another.

Onefinger snaps his aim low, and dragon-fire bursts across the wet earth at the courier’s boots. Steam hammers up in a white sheet, cutting the chant mid-breath.

The black rain around the center falters. A ring of mud and ash splits outward, and the nearest open graves spit clods back into the dark.

He jerks back from the scorched patch, cloak flaring, and the careful stillness around him breaks at last.

The dead hands at the nearest graves slacken, then sink from view as the storm thins over the center.

For one breath, the graveyard feels held again, but the courier is reeling, and the rite gutters under his feet.