When the Dimensional Wound first opened up and demons began spewing out of it, corrupting the landscape, a crusade was declared to push them back and try to find a way to close the rift between our dimensions. It was successful for the most part, and was crucial for establishing a containment zone even if it didn't reach the wound. However, rumors began to reach us about an undead lord having risen to power within the wound's influence, killing members of the fifth crusade and raising them as undead. When we heard there was a failed coup from the living members of his court, we felt pressed to take the job.

There were four of us. Fara The Incorruptible, a terrifying woman full of self righteousness. Even her allies do not tread lightly around her. Broga the Ogre, one of the most intelligent specimens to come forward and don armor and weapon for king and country. Brutal fighter. Sean the Ranger, he fires faster than he aims, leaves most foes pincushioned. Finally, our fallen artificer. His chest was completely caved in and lungs splattered across the battlefield from an ambush of intelligent undead, a barbarian dealing the killing blow.

The door to his ritual chamber is ahead of us, Fara has been saving her healing spells for this, but our wounds sting with rot. The undead in the castle have been using hit and run tactics to pick away at us. We'd have wizards pop out of closets to cast open wounds on us, before teleporting away, archers fire at us from balconies and once, when we thought we had routed some fighting dead, we chased them into getting a bookshelf dropped on us. We are hurting.

"That's it. I'm out. You two better tough it up, the worst is yet to come." Broga speaks up. "All this death, how did nobody kill this arrogant fool sooner? This crusade is going to go down in history as a bloody nightmare." Sean will wince as he picks at the scabbed wounds on his hand. "Maybe we should take a rest, if we keep watch or find a side room maybe we can rest, I don't think I'm ready." "If we wait any longer, they'll pick us off. We've barely killed any defenders, so don't expect this to be easy."

As the three face the door, Broga takes a few steps back, roars and charges into it, breaking it clean off the hinges and crushing several undead in the throneroom. Barricades manned by undead shepherded by twisted vampires mocking human form separate the defenders from the attackers. Broga will sweep the field with his warhammer, sending bones and cadavers flying across the room in broken heaps. Sean is headhunting the most powerful undead wizards he can see and Fara is making the vampires burn under her holy gaze. The room lights up with magic as the foundation of the building shakes at the defenders efforts. It is only a single word that causes the entire battle to stop in an instant.

#"STOP."

The lich has entered the room. All eyes and eyeholes fall upon him. "If you care about a future where the world isn't ruled by demons, you will listen to what I have to say." The undead engaged by the party give them some room, moving to the sides of the room as the lich approaches the damaged barricade.

"You must think yourselves the heroes, right? That as soon as you kill me this crusade will join hands and sing as they drive back the demons to the hellworld they came from, right?" Fara speaks up with righteous venom in her voice. "Monsters like you and the demons are one and the same, the crusade will not fear you." The lich scoffs at her with matching contempt.

"Won't fear me? You belligerent harlot, have you even seen what demons do to people? I was there when they would swoop down from the skies, and pick up soldiers to skin them in mid-air. The kind of terror tactics that make men come home, shaking uncontrollably, crying in the night. If you were anywhere near an army, you'd know they are terrified. Fearlessness is for the zealots." Broga starts to interrupt his speech. "You killed them all, and you have the nerve to talk about how the demons tortured them?!"

"I'm not letting an army that could destroy the rift just leave with their tails between their legs as demons pick off the slowest that cry in the night. Demons take such pleasure in mortal terror, but undead do not feel any such thing. I have freed them from the chains of life, and allowed them to reach their true potential. I can offer you the same, willing undead can go through rituals to retain their intelligence. I have given up my humanity to save the world, join me so that we may succeed."

Fara's eyes burn with fury. She steps past her companions to speak directly to the lich. Sean and Broga look at each other, trying to gauge each others reactions to the offer. "My companions will not be swayed to your side. We will crush you, then we will crush your sinful army before swiftly crushing the demons. When we have finally rid the crusade of sin we will stride towards victory. Attack!"

She draws her sword and steps forward, but as she attempts to swing at the lich, Sean restrains her from behind. "What the hell are you doing?!" "I'm not about to let my brother walk into this hellscape when I could end it now before he's deployed." The lich watches with an unchanging expression on his bony face. "Broga, it's just you and me, kill Sean and we'll take the lich together." The lich speaks. "I have no use for the protected body and soul of a cleric. Kill her. It's dirty work but it has to be done."

Fara thrashes around in Sean's grip, steadily working her way loose as she drops her sword. Broga silently considers the consequences of his actions, and as Fara headbutts sean to free herself, before she can swing a gauntlet at him, she's sent flying by a strike from Broga, straight out a stained glass window. He gold threaded armor glitters in the sun as she falls, bouncing off a roof sending tiles flying as she tumbles into the sea.

"You did the right thing. Follow me, the sooner you start the rituals, the sooner you can reach your true potential." The two heroes look out the window just in time to see Fara bounce off the rocks into the water, a dark truth settling in their stomach as they realize what they have done. It's too late to turn back, and undead have no regrets.