The Crimson Jackals stumbled into the suffocating darkness of the tomb, their ragged breaths echoing off the stone walls.
Each boot struck the ground with an uneven rhythm, the sound mingling with the hissing of torches that barely held back the oppressive shadows pressing in around them.
At the front was Ravik, his jaw clenched tight as he fought against the silence.
He had already lost too many men,too many traps, too many lifeless bodies left in his wake.
But he pressed on, fueled by pride and a desperate hope that the treasure waiting ahead would make all this suffering worthwhile.
As they entered a vast chamber, its size took their breath away.
Smooth walls framed rows of statues carved from black stone, each one resembling a soldier frozen in place.
They stood at attention on either side of the room,dozens or perhaps even a hundred, each holding a crossbow aimed straight down the path.
At first glance, they appeared to be mere lifeless guardians.
