The knight rode slowly along the dirt track which wound its way through barren, dry country towards the hill where stood a tall, dark dolorous tower. The knight was a tall, graceful figure, dressed in full armor and great helm from which sprouted a great crest of blue plume. Over the gleaming, silvery steel plates, the knight wore a tabard of blue and white checkerboard. On the front, and repeated on their broad heater shield, held in the left hand, was the insignia of a golden griffin. In the opposite hand, the knight held a long lance and had a sword belted at the waist. 

There was no challenge called, no alarms raised as the knight rode up to the tower’s gate. It looked, for all the world, an empty and forgotten ruin. Leaving the destrier to find what grazing it could on the dry, dead grass in this blasted landscape, the knight drew sword and boldly entered the tower. No sooner had they stepped bodily through the door, however, then the doors slammed shut once more, moved by some malevolent will. At the same time, the knight heard the creaking of ancient, dried muscle and tendons, the rattling of long dead bones. 

Out of the gloom of the tower’s first floor shuffled half a dozen animated corpses. Three of them had flesh still, desiccated in the desert air while the other three were naught by yellowed ancient bones. Fell witchfire burned in their empty eye sockets as they advanced malevolently. 

Undaunted, the knight charged forward. The first swing of the longsword cut one of the mummies in two, then beheaded a skeleton on the backstroke.Lashing out with the shield, the knight scattered the bones of a second skeleton. The three remaining undead were undaunted however and came on mindlessly, grasping and reaching for the night. 

A few more quick strokes brought them but, but already the first three undead were rising once more. The bisected mummy pulled its two halves together, joining them once more with the same necromantic power that gave it animation. The headless skeleton groped blindly on the ground for its missing cranium. Finally finding the wayward skull, it set it atop its spine and turned the deathless grin back towards the knight. On the ground, the scattered bones of the shattered skeleton writhed and twitched, slowly piecing themselves back together. 

Seeing this fight was futile, the knight rushed forward, smashing aside the mummy that stood between them and the door with their shield. The other undead shuffled after, relentless but fortunately none-too-quickly. Still, the sounds of footfall and rattling bone told the knight more undead defenders were converging, coming from all directions to surround the trap the intruder. The only way to win this fight was to press past the minions and destroy the one animating them…

Steadily, the knight pushed up through the tower, floor by floor. At every turn, more undead lurked, shambling from the shadows to try and drag the intruder down. Most of then, the knight avoided, rushed past, only pausing to cut them down when it became necessary to get by them. It was pointless anyway. Those dispatched simply rose again a moment later. The knight had neither the means, nor the time to destroy the bodies thoroughly enough to be beyond revivification. Indeed, even the slightly delays dispatching the undead gave time for the growing horde of undead behind the knight, dogging their heels, to catch up. 

In the end, they almost made it. The knight sensed they were close to the top when they came to the final hurdle. A quartet of undead knights, still clad in ancient, rusting armor, barred the stairs to the top of the tower where the necromancer almost certainly was. Boldly, the knight charged forward, but found their attacks stymied. The armor the undead wore prevented a quick dispatch and the wounds that could be inflicted, jamming the sword through gaps in the bent and rusted plate, though certainly fatal for any living opponent, hindered the undead not at all. The knight danced around, hoping to create a gap they could slip through, but the four remained fixed in place, content to block and delay the knight. 

Soon, the rest of the horde poured up from the lower levels, five score or more. The knight fought valiantly, surrounded on all sides, but the outcome was a foregone conclusion. The shield of the griffin was lost first, ripped away by a zombie, then the sword lodged irretrievably in the ribcage of a skeleton and was ripped from the knight’s grip. A dozen or so undead then fell upon the knight, seizing arms and legs. The knight struggled, lashing out as best they could, but their assailants clung on with mindless tenacity, taking no notice when a gauntletted first smashed off a jawbone or a kick cracked knees. 

The knight was picked up, bodily, and carried towards the stairs. Its armored guardians parted now to let the other undead through. At the top of the spiraling stairs, they came out into the open top of the tower. There waited a figure in black robes stitched with skulls in silver thread. A gnarled black staff was clutched in one wizened hand, topped with a skull which burned with magic fire. From beneath the hood, a pair of eyes burned with the same witchfire that animated the undead. 

As the knight was brought to kneel before them, the necromancer raised a hand in a wordless gesture. Obeying his will, the undead began to awkwardly remove the knight’s armor. The plumed helm was lifted away, causing a shower of golden locks to flow freely, framing a pretty, haughty face which glared defiance. The tabard was torn off and the plates beneath ripped away, piece by piece. The padded gambeson beneath was stripped away, revealing soft round breasts, a slender waist and curvy hips. The woman briefly tried to cover herself, but undead hands seized her wrists and pulled them aside, barring her naked figure to the gaze of their master. 

“A valiant effort, your highness…” The necromancer taunted the princess in a low, raspy voice. “But you are, and always will be, a damsel in distress.” He waved a hand. “Take her and chain her with the others.” He ordered. 

Princess Arria fought and struggled as she was dragged away, but her captors held fast. In another chamber in the tower below, the necromancer kept his collection of captive damsels. A score of maidens stood or knelt around the circular chamber, shackled to the walls by collars or manacles. Apart from these and leather muzzles many of them wore, punishment for talking back to their cruel captor, all of the damsels were naked. 

Soon, the Princess was once more chained as well. She slumped down, grumbling through her gag. Nothing to do now, but wait for the hero to come to the rescue…