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- Joined
- Jan 13, 2016
- Location
- Canadia
The Crypt of Tetherius Ret was said to be carved into a massive slab of limestone, blessed vigorously in order to keep the monstrous spirit of it’s supposedly sole resident at bay. Clearly, the blessing in and of itself had either not been enough, or had been a fabrication and a myth the entire time. The suggestion that Tetherius Ret was buried alone, too, seemed a fabrication.
At least that is what the Knights of the Holy Order had been led to believe. It had become such a pressing matter that the very best, the Knights Exemplar, had been sent to quell the destructive, flesh hungry undead from the crypt. They had already sent knights from lesser orders, such as the Minar, and the Avage, to no avail. Those that returned were either badly wounded, on the brink of madness, or in coffins already. At least Tetherius couldn’t sink his claws into the Knight-Templars, as that would be particularly disastrous.
While human-kind dabbled in all kinds of magic, they were not exactly the… best species to understand it. At all, really. It was complicated, and many Magi were secretive in their studies to the point that many of them died with their secrets. It got to the point where many Magi were thought of as little more than completely mad hermits, secluded in forest sanctuaries and tower fortresses with books, reagents and not much else.
Tetherius was a known scholar of the Dark, his sole focus of magic being that of all things considered to be cast away by the light. By his death, he had learned the secret of reanimating corpses, and was quite mad as a result. How he died is still a mystery that nobody wants to solve. Most Elves don’t care, seeing him as a child playing with a candle, and most humans were too scared to bother, as was their way. The many other races of the world, such as the Sorcerer’s and the True Undead didn’t want anything to do with the man, as he was considered an anomaly of sorts, and, as previously stated, quite mad. Who in the world could possibly know what he had done to himself before and after death?
No matter what he had done to himself, it had been quite the trek into the crypt. Oddly, there were no traps, but hordes of undead that likes of which had never been seen before. Creatures sown together to make horrifying amalgamations, skeletons and rotting zombies, armored revenants of almost life-like skill, and the decaying remains of an elder dragon. By the end of it all, they had lost all but two.
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Heavy clanking and heavier footfalls reverberated down the long, dark hallway that two figures were traversing. One of them was an average sized man, fairly well built but nothing you wouldn’t expect from a Knight. The other, conversely, was huge by comparison, even without the armor his bulk was impressive.
“Lord Inquisitor Brier, I honestly do not think we are going to get out of this alive…” the voice that spoke belonged to a tall man, thickly built but keen of mind in a way his size didn’t bely.
“Yes, Exemplar Demilin, I have a feeling that this will not end well...” The man that led the way was less heavily built, at least a foot shorter but one of the most dangerous men on the planet for his zeal and fervor. The two men had gained a kinship for both having queer eye colors, and for being somewhat outcast in their order because of it. While trusted, many were not friendly with the two.
Lord Inquisitor Brier was an albino, while most assumed Knight Exemplar Demilin to be a werebeast of some manner.
“This should be the final chamber, according to the map. I hope you are ready” Brier spoke as they stopped before a massive stone door that, unlike much of the rest of the crypt, was almost perfect in condition. Thomas slowly forced the doors open, and soon the room was laid bare.
It was a massive, stone circle with a single coffin in the middle of it, ornately carved with runes of some sort, of whose purpose nobody could be sure, not unless they could read it.
“Alright, Ahretic, open the coffin. The source of these creatures should be inside. If you sense danger, immediately retreat” Thomas spoke, allowing the large man to move forward. The lid of the coffin was heavy, even for him, but he managed to lift it with some amount of effort involved, and then threw it over the other side with a crash. There was an explosion of pale, baleful light that sent Ahretic careening across the room, smashing heavily into the wall, hard enough to crack the stone.
The pain actually made him pass out for a moment, vision swimming with darkness. When he opened them again, his Lord was standing before him with a large, evil looking tome held underneath one arm. His blade was pointed at Ahretic’s chest, held aloft long enough for him to open his eyes, and when he did, Thomas drove the blade home directly through his sternum.
“You’ve been of much use to me, my old friend” The man spoke, grinning widely as he stepped back and flicked his sword to the side, Ahretic’s blood spattering the white stone “But I am afraid I cannot let you live, not while I have the chance to finish you. If I had thought I could bring you to my side, I might have tried to sway you, but we both know that you’ve been held by the Holy Order’s indoctrination since birth. Their most loyal, steadfast warriors are always those that they steal from cribs, or buy from whores and harlots”.
“...” Ahretic couldn’t have spoken even if he wanted to, the pain he was in was just too much to allow it, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared in shock at the man above him.
“Your death will be quick, once you bleed enough” The albino man spoke as he made his way to the door. He turned in the doorway, and stated “I hope you sleep well, my friend”. With that, he snapped his fingers, the doors beginning to slide shut behind him, leaving Ahretic to his fate.
He closed his eyes again as the room was plunged into darkness. He had no idea that Thomas had been planning this, no idea what in the world had taken hold of his friend. Now, all he could do was contemplate the death that came for him.
At least that is what the Knights of the Holy Order had been led to believe. It had become such a pressing matter that the very best, the Knights Exemplar, had been sent to quell the destructive, flesh hungry undead from the crypt. They had already sent knights from lesser orders, such as the Minar, and the Avage, to no avail. Those that returned were either badly wounded, on the brink of madness, or in coffins already. At least Tetherius couldn’t sink his claws into the Knight-Templars, as that would be particularly disastrous.
While human-kind dabbled in all kinds of magic, they were not exactly the… best species to understand it. At all, really. It was complicated, and many Magi were secretive in their studies to the point that many of them died with their secrets. It got to the point where many Magi were thought of as little more than completely mad hermits, secluded in forest sanctuaries and tower fortresses with books, reagents and not much else.
Tetherius was a known scholar of the Dark, his sole focus of magic being that of all things considered to be cast away by the light. By his death, he had learned the secret of reanimating corpses, and was quite mad as a result. How he died is still a mystery that nobody wants to solve. Most Elves don’t care, seeing him as a child playing with a candle, and most humans were too scared to bother, as was their way. The many other races of the world, such as the Sorcerer’s and the True Undead didn’t want anything to do with the man, as he was considered an anomaly of sorts, and, as previously stated, quite mad. Who in the world could possibly know what he had done to himself before and after death?
No matter what he had done to himself, it had been quite the trek into the crypt. Oddly, there were no traps, but hordes of undead that likes of which had never been seen before. Creatures sown together to make horrifying amalgamations, skeletons and rotting zombies, armored revenants of almost life-like skill, and the decaying remains of an elder dragon. By the end of it all, they had lost all but two.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Heavy clanking and heavier footfalls reverberated down the long, dark hallway that two figures were traversing. One of them was an average sized man, fairly well built but nothing you wouldn’t expect from a Knight. The other, conversely, was huge by comparison, even without the armor his bulk was impressive.
“Lord Inquisitor Brier, I honestly do not think we are going to get out of this alive…” the voice that spoke belonged to a tall man, thickly built but keen of mind in a way his size didn’t bely.
“Yes, Exemplar Demilin, I have a feeling that this will not end well...” The man that led the way was less heavily built, at least a foot shorter but one of the most dangerous men on the planet for his zeal and fervor. The two men had gained a kinship for both having queer eye colors, and for being somewhat outcast in their order because of it. While trusted, many were not friendly with the two.
Lord Inquisitor Brier was an albino, while most assumed Knight Exemplar Demilin to be a werebeast of some manner.
“This should be the final chamber, according to the map. I hope you are ready” Brier spoke as they stopped before a massive stone door that, unlike much of the rest of the crypt, was almost perfect in condition. Thomas slowly forced the doors open, and soon the room was laid bare.
It was a massive, stone circle with a single coffin in the middle of it, ornately carved with runes of some sort, of whose purpose nobody could be sure, not unless they could read it.
“Alright, Ahretic, open the coffin. The source of these creatures should be inside. If you sense danger, immediately retreat” Thomas spoke, allowing the large man to move forward. The lid of the coffin was heavy, even for him, but he managed to lift it with some amount of effort involved, and then threw it over the other side with a crash. There was an explosion of pale, baleful light that sent Ahretic careening across the room, smashing heavily into the wall, hard enough to crack the stone.
The pain actually made him pass out for a moment, vision swimming with darkness. When he opened them again, his Lord was standing before him with a large, evil looking tome held underneath one arm. His blade was pointed at Ahretic’s chest, held aloft long enough for him to open his eyes, and when he did, Thomas drove the blade home directly through his sternum.
“You’ve been of much use to me, my old friend” The man spoke, grinning widely as he stepped back and flicked his sword to the side, Ahretic’s blood spattering the white stone “But I am afraid I cannot let you live, not while I have the chance to finish you. If I had thought I could bring you to my side, I might have tried to sway you, but we both know that you’ve been held by the Holy Order’s indoctrination since birth. Their most loyal, steadfast warriors are always those that they steal from cribs, or buy from whores and harlots”.
“...” Ahretic couldn’t have spoken even if he wanted to, the pain he was in was just too much to allow it, his jaw clenched tightly as he stared in shock at the man above him.
“Your death will be quick, once you bleed enough” The albino man spoke as he made his way to the door. He turned in the doorway, and stated “I hope you sleep well, my friend”. With that, he snapped his fingers, the doors beginning to slide shut behind him, leaving Ahretic to his fate.
He closed his eyes again as the room was plunged into darkness. He had no idea that Thomas had been planning this, no idea what in the world had taken hold of his friend. Now, all he could do was contemplate the death that came for him.