Story 1055: The Warlock's Tomb

In the southern swamp of Daggerfen, where lantern bugs glow green and the fog tastes of copper, there lies a tomb older than memory. Buried beneath layers of time, moss, and madness, it waits—unopened since the world was still sane.

They say a warlock lies within. Not dead, but dreaming.

And he dreams of return.

Juno Morell, a graverobber with debts in every corner of the Deadlands, had heard the rumors. She didn't believe in stories—not until a map carved into a flayed man's back led her to a twisted willow that bled black sap when touched.

Beneath it, a staircase spiraled into the earth.

Torch in hand, she descended into the dark.

The tomb pulsed with unnatural life.

Walls of bone, stitched with sinew. Runes carved in languages that didn’t obey the laws of time. Stone coffins lined the chamber—each filled not with corpses, but offerings. Skulls with mouths sewn shut. Jars of weeping blood. Still-beating hearts in iron cages.