The Catacombs of Shadow's Wrath

Something's wrong in the Hidden Forest. The old-timers won't say it out loud, but they've stopped sending their kids to gather firewood past the tree line. At night there are lights on the horizon, pale and low, and a sound nobody can name. It comes from the catacomb everyone swore was empty. You go in because the coin is good and the questions are worse. Down there, the dark isn't the absence of torches. It moves. It's growing, spreading through the roots of the forest, and whatever woke it is