The cave was lit by a circle of twelve candles. It had once been a giant hall, built into the rock by dwarf master mansions centuries ago, but it had long since been forgotten. Twisted and turned by the warpexplosion that shook Middenheim during the Storm of Chaos, it had reformed into a round crypt. The room was filled with a dull, humming song.

A red robed figure stood In the middle of room, surrounded by the candles. His - or her? - face was covered by the robe. Even the hands were hidden in deep in the cloth, but there must be hands, for now it poured herbs in a large bowl. With a hissing sound the herbs caught fire, sending out a short slash of lightning. The bowl continued to hiss, sending small clouds meandering towards the ceiling, getting lost in the vast heights of the crypt.

Somewhere in the distance a man cried a warning - or did he scream in pain? The figure did not seem to notice. The chanting continued, rising in intensity. Intricate words could be heard now. They were strange and unfamiliar to the ear, belonging to a long lost language. Forbidden by the authorities of the Empire and the priests of Ulric, honoured and savoured by followers of the dark powers.

Outside the noises rose. Feet shuffled, voices screamed and weapons clinched. The noise rose more and more, almost drowning the chanting. Then it stopped. Everything fell silent outside. Had the figure listened, it would have heard death filling the labyrinth. Death withered through the twisted passages like a thick black mist, filling every gap, drowning all sounds and life in its way.

The figure rose to full size and stretched the arms to start the final incantation. Slowly the mist crept into the crypt, pouring in through gates, doors and wholes, slowly feeling their way towards the figure. The first arms reached the candles. The engulfed the flames. Drowned them. Ate them. Extinguished them. With each flame consumed the darkness grew until only the mystical flame in the bowl shone upon the figure. Confused by the disturbance dark eyes glared into the dark from underneath the robes. They saw the dark approaching. Long, thick, misty tentacles. Then the blade lashed out, and the world turned into eternal darkness.