Diana marched forth, heading the column of men and women towards the imposing mountainside far outside of town. The afternoon sun was still high in the sky, but Diana felt as if an invisible shadow hung over them, scrutinizing their every move. There wasn't much talk or chatter along the way; almost everyone marched in silence, with only the sounds of shuffling footsteps, whistling wind, and rustling clothing breaking the cold air.

  The doors of the tomb where Diana had previously entered the Mountain came into view, the great doors still open as she had left them; the opening of the tomb stared back at her like an empty eye socket, the sunlight shining no further than the entrance itself. The wind had previously whistled and howled around everyone's ears and faces when they were approaching the mountain, but now that they stood before it, the mountain breeze had stilled to an uneasy silence; Diana held up her hand, signaling everyone to stop.

  The column halted, then spread out into a line as they had drilled earlier that day, forming a rank about fifteen across and two deep; the front line lowered their spears and stances to a bracing posture, while those behind them stood ready to stab outwards. Six or so archers, hunters in their day professions, stood behind the lines, their bows drawn and ready.

  Diana stood in the front ahead of the line, her shield and mace raised. She stepped forward, pointing her mace at the tomb entrance.

  "Dragon! I know you're here! Come and face us with your minions, if you dare!" Her voice cracked throughout the valley like a whip, splitting the cold, still air.

  For a moment, nothing stirred; the mountain valley was silent, the snow absorbing any and all sound from the world. Some of the makeshift militia shifted uneasily; they glanced about, their eyes darting around as they strained to see any sign of movement around them.

  Then, all at once, the valley stirred to life; the wind picked up and howled with rage around them, the afternoon sun disappeared behind a dark bank of clouds, and the smooth plains of snow around them began to ruffle and furrow. A few cries of fear and surprise came from the militia, but they held steady as Diana raised her mace in reassurance, the holy glow winking back on and bathing them in its warm light.

  The quaking snow banks suddenly erupted, as dozens - no, hundreds - of skeletal figures emerged from the snow all around them, their eyes glowing purple. Diana tightened her lips, feeling her heart sink as more and more shapes continued to rise from the snow; behind her, the militia shrank back as well, murmuring amongst themselves as the numbers of the undead began to grow beyond their count.

  The undead surrounded them, their half-decayed and skeletal faces leering at the frightened townspeople; Diana sighted a few dozen of them raise their bows and take aim at the militia.

  A single volley, and we'll be wiped out. Thinking quickly, the cleric whispered an incantation; her mace floated from her grasp and soared above her head, before it exploded into a brilliant flash of light. The militia shielded their eyes briefly, before their vision returned; when it did, they were surprised to see that they were enveloped within a large dome of faintly glowing energy, pulsing intermittently before their eyes.

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  Diana wasted no time, turning back to the militia. "Form a circle! Spears out, archers inside!" She drew her secondary weapon, a small arming sword, which she used to direct her actions. "Form your ranks just behind the barrier! Give no space for their archers to get inside as well!"

  A series of peppering noises drew the glances of many of the townsfolk, as they looked up to see a shower of arrows bouncing harmlessly off of the dome. Diana waved her sword, shouting.

  "The dome will shield you, but they can still come in! Form the circle, quickly!"

  Everyone swiftly did so, forming the circle just behind the barrier of the dome and pointing their spears out; Diana and the handful of archers stood within the center.

  "Their arrows can't hit us," she said, her eye on a ridgeline. "But ours can go out and hit them."

  The archers nodded and took aim, loosing their arrows; their barrage hit a pocket of undead archers on the ridge, but to little effect. The arrows simply didn't have enough power to separate the heads from the bodies.

  "Save your arrows, then. Let them come to us." Diana turned her attention back to the ground. Sure enough, the hordes of undead were beginning to lumber towards the dome, their weapons raised; the first few passed through the dome barrier, but were swiftly cut down by the spearmen.

  "Lady be with us," Diana murmured, gripping her sword tightly. "We fight in your name!"

  Arthur and Lyla's so-called secret passage was far off the beaten path, a simple tunnel opening hidden by a scraggle of dead brush a few minutes outside of town. Still, it was nondescript enough for Henry to have easily missed it from the road, were it not for the pair's directions.

  "Lovely spot, isn't it?" Arthur sniffed. "I'm not sure even the dragon knows of this entrance."

  "Get a move on, will you?" Lyla griped. "You're blocking the whole tunnel."

  Arthur's armored form squeezed through the passageway opening and into the darkness beyond, followed by Lyla and then Praetorus. Henry realized that it was just him and Rebecca standing there, the two sharing an awkward silence amplified by their close proximity.

  "Um, Rebecca," Henry began, struggling to look at her without feeling his face burn again. "About what happened..."

  "What do you mean?" the mage replied, her emerald eyes sharp and cutting.

  "Uh, back at the armory..."

  She rolled her eyes. "What, can't you take a simple token of luck like any other swaggering knight out there?"

  "Well, I-"

  "Henry, listen." She held up her hand. "That was for luck. You'd better make sure you come back alive."

  He nodded, feeling his cheeks burn once more. "I'll try."

  Rebecca frowned. "I was afraid you'd say that." She drew closer, grabbing his collar. "Then this is for just in case."

  Her lips met his, and he felt his heart skip a beat; the faint taste and scent of berries filled his mouth, with only the sound of their breathing filling his ears.

  And then, as suddenly as it had come, he felt himself pushed back, staggering through the passage entry. He almost turned to glance behind him, expecting her to follow, but then remembered the plan. Oh. Right.

  He went on a little further, where the others were waiting in a slightly larger chamber. Lyla and Praetorus stood ready, but Arthur was leaning back against the wall in his plate, his visor up and revealing his toothy grin.

  "Henry. We were wondering what was taking you," Lyla remarked.

  Henry made to reply, but Arthur cut in first.

  "Oh, don't worry. Our friend here is one for long goodbyes." He winked at the flustered squire, before standing to and leading the way further in. "C'mon. We've a dragon to kill."

  Henry bounded after him without a word, as Lyla and Praetorus exchanged confused glances before they followed as well.