The bodies of a hundred demons lie strewn in our wake as we push forward. The dungeon we're exploring has the feel of a temple swallowed whole by the Desolate Sands; its dusty walls weep endless streams of sand. Kormac, my Templar companion, pipes up during a rare moment of silence. "I tried to count how many we killed," he barks with confidence, "but I've lost track." I chuckle at his almost comedic level of nonchalance; he's clearly seen all of this before. "By all that is holy!" Kormac shouts, breaking the silence yet again, "do you see that enemy over there?" I spot a towering bulb of flesh lumbering its way towards us, leading a horde of smaller creatures, all thirsty for our blood.
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