The mage died with one brutal cleave, corpse tumbling onto the dark stone. She was right, of course, about sending him to his dark gods. As his life left him, his body began to crackle with black flame, the corpse consumed in moments. Where it went, and what its fate would be, was a mystery, and a grisly one at that. One she'd not have time to worry about as footsteps powered up the passage.
The mage was not the only mutated servant in those depths. Creatures who had once been men before they succumbed to darkness in their despair now marched up the tunnel, their forms equally as horrid. What might have once been a knight, clad in rusted plate and chain, lumbered forward with the stiff walk of the damned. His breastplate bulged in an unsightly manner, one massive arm gripping a greatsword in a single-handed grip. The other arm was... strange. Like the pincer of a great crustacean, though rather than serrated spines within, there were what looked like rubbery, slimy feelers.
His - for it had, undoubtedly at some point, been a man - comrade marched alongside him, clearly more the type for skullduggery. Glowing red eyes gazed out of a bloated skull, mouth distended with one great, writhing tongue hanging halfway down his chest. Clad in dark, ancient leathers, he was a good deal quicker on his feet, scouting ahead in the darkness. Her presence would not go unnoticed for long.