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I sat beside a small grave, overlooking the east side of the lake, facing the sun. In my hand I held a collar, a certain hounds name woven onto it. It has been a number of weeks... but his death still hurts... My Birthday was today, but I'm spending the entire day here by his grave. The words "Here lies a dog, with a heart of gold" were carved into the granite slab, with Bulwarks name above it.
Somehow... I just know that somehow I could have saved him. He was MY responsibility, MY charge... one of my few friends... I should have untied him before the battle started, I should have brought him with me below deck... So many things I should have done, but didn't in my carelessness...
As such thoughts ran through my mind, crimson drops fell to onto my knees as I hugged them close. Here I was alone, and isolated, left only with the wind and birds in the trees, as well as the sound of the water lapping at the shore of the lake sixty paces from the grave site. The area itself was a bare hillside, givings a clear view of the lake over the treetops, as wild flowers in a rainbow of colors, the last blooms of the year, surrounded me.
"Quite a nice place for you to rest...", I sniffed, wiping away my bloody tears, "You always loved coming here... playing catch..."
Usually, He would have answered my voice in some way... but... never again.
As the sun rose above the distant peaks, the colors of late fall were bathed in light, creating a view from a painting before us... I looked down, the image of his gutted corpse flashing through my mind. I hadn't been able to attend his burial, but Azrael was in charge of it. He couldn't have chosen a better location... Bulwark had always loved our occasional visits here.
By now Azrael will be getting dressed for the party, dressed in a uniform given to him by the church for the occasion. I hadn't received such a thing, but I didn't mind... I wasn't planning on participating anyway. I sat in the grass wearing a my only black dress, it's long, plain skirt hugged my legs slightly, with short sleeves going to my elbows. On my right was the gravestone marking Bulwarks grave.
As the day wore on, I sat silently next to his grave, staying with my trusted friend... one last time. Out of all the times we have been together, going on small adventures... I wasn't there for him when he needed me, despite countless occasions where he had been there for me.
I looked at my hand, hardened from training, and made strong through many trials. Despite my twenty years of age, due to my fae blood I only looked about sixteen, same with Azrael. Yet, I was an adult as of today... but even then I couldn't save my oldest friend... What good was all that training if I couldn't save Bulwark from one stupid, god forsaken orik!?
Despite my many prayers to the father during my recovery, no answer was forthcoming, from him nor my own mind.
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As the sun sank from view somewhere behind me, I stood up, walking back to the small sailing vessel father had gotten me. More of a glorified dingey really, with a singular mast sprouting from the bow, and a small triangular sail with a simple rigging hooked up to a block and tackle. I had used it to get to the gravesite.
But as the shore came into view, the boat, and the log I tied it to, were both missing. Looking up and down the shore, I didn't see them anywhere, and my footprints from earlier led just a bit to the left of where I am. What a wonderful way to end this day...
I threw a stick into the water, partially out of frustration, but mostly so I could follow the current. Seeing the stick drift slowly to the right, I strode quickly down the beach, the skirt of the dress keeping me from running. Either I'm getting my boat back, or I'll find a town to get back home on a fishing boat. At this point, whichever.
The way was untamed, making me glad that I wore my boots with the dress, which kept getting caught on everything. I gathered up my dress, lifting the hem to above my knees, and kept going. For the most part I followed the shore, looking out into the water for my boat, but occasinally I took shortcuts across small outcroppings of the shoreline into the lake. I've been at this for hours, and can now see the lights of a village through the trees, so it's doubtful I can find my boat tonight.
As I drew near the lights, the ground suddenly dropped out from under me, dragging me into it as I screamed in surprise. Landing with a thud into a crumbled mess on a cobbled floor, I struggled to breath after the impact. Looking around, I was in an underground tunnel, but unlike the ones at the fortress, these walls were made from rough stones, with roots encroaching every so often. Not even a candle could be seen in the four passages I could now see down, one of them heading twoards the lake, and down a staircase.
I stood up slowly, trying to get my bearings, the air was moist and cold, moss coating everything almost totally, patches of granite visible every so often. Looking up, the hole I had fallen through was sealed tight, not even an indentation to show where it had been. As I lowered my gaze back to the tunnel infront of me, I saw the black figure with a tiger mask standing there, eerily silent. I quickly looked down the other tunnels, finding similar figures in each one, watching me, their white masks making thir forms all the blacker. the four figures each had a different mask, one was the tiger figure, the others were as follows panning right: a demonic face, an owl, and a dragon. Each of the exuded an aura of a depthless cold, but not nearly as intense as that time on the deck of the War Bird, but it still nearly froze my blood.
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"Wh-what do you want!?", I tried to sound undaunted, by my voice quivered, and was so soft even I could barley hear the raspy sound.
They remained silent, but I noticed the owl move their head slightly to the dragon, as if they were holding a silent conversation. The silence continued, the dark figures seeming to loom over me in the tunnels. Finally, the demon spoke in a voice which seemed to originate from some black abyss:
"You have been chosen, and you have accepted the task. Now, you will complete the challenge. Survive, and you will join our fold, or die, and you will be forgotten."
Before I could say anything else, they vanished abruptly, as if being dragged into the shadows. Where each had stood, were my traveling clothes, a backpack, a lantern, and my sword. I stood there in shock for awhile, before quickly gathering the items, and tucking my dress under my clothes.
What have I gotten myself into?
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I tried to calm myself before I did something stupid. Ruffling through the backpack to see what I have: a coil of hemp rope, a flask of oil, eight daggers, some hardtack rations, and a water skin. Not much, but this could mean the challenge isn't going to take very long... hopefully...
I donned the backpack, and hooked my sword to my belt. I took a steadying breath, and stuck my finger in my mouth before holding it up to test the air. Feeling a slight breeze from the stairs, I made my way down, my steps echoing off the stone walls. I was doing my best to stay quiet, not wanting to get the attention of anything I didn't have to.
Already I could feel time blending together, marked only by my even steps, and the intervals where I test branching passages with a wet finger. As the silence dragged on through these tunnels, I began to get a headache from how hard I was straining my ears to pick up anything in the tunnels. Eventually, I heard some dripping in the distance, reflexively taking a drink from my water skin, but froze when I heard something scrape against the stones... something metal.
I froze, looking in the direction of the sound, behind me. Turning, a huge figure stood in the tunnel behind me, something like twelve spans tall, and this was while slouching, but what made my blood run cold wasn't its size, or the greatsword it dragged behind it. I was terrified by the fact it was an enormous corpse, complete with maggots crawling through its skin, insects walking on it, and a huge worm peering out of one of its eye sockets, the length coiling down it's spine, visible through a gaping hole in the things chest. It's bowls must have broken off at some point, because only the ends remained attached to the torso, hanging out, dripping fluids.
While I stood gaping at it like an idiot, the creature lurched forward eerily silently, charging twoards me at full tilt. Scrambling away, I took off down the tunnel, ducking down side passages to avoid being run down, unable to pay attention to the path I was taking in my panic. Whenever I looked back, the corpse was getting closer, before suddenly dropping back as it slowed down to make a corner, it's sword slamming noisily into the walls at every jerking movement.
I was managing to keep my distance for now, even starting to calm down a bit, but I was more then aware that eventually I would tire, but that thing would not. These tunnels were too narrow for me to slip past, but also too narrow for it to swing that sword, however mine was a short sword, short enough to swing in these tight quarters. Even so, it's not like that thing will be done in with a single swing, and I'd rather not get hit back.
Suddenly, the tunnel opened up into a room, roughly twelve paces long, and six wide, with about three men of height. I ducked to the side of the passageway, just as the giant undead rushed past. I nearly threw up from the sickly sweet smell of rot, but took my chance, and tried to slice through its spine. My sword got stuck in its dried up flesh, made nearly as hard as wood, ripping it from my hands, nearly yanking me off my feet. My sword stuck in its torso, the undead turned to me.
"Sonitu Maxumo!", I clapped my hands together, calling out a spell.
I regretted using this particular spell, because even as the undead was launched back, the air shoved aside, and the thunderous roar produced by the spell, came back and slammed me against the stone wall. The air was knocked out of my lungs, my ears were ringing, and it felt like I broke something against the stones. Already, as I was left gasping and disoriented, the undead was standing back up, left unarmed when its weapon was thrown aside by the spell. But that things hands were each the size of my head.
I forced myself to stand, but It wouldn't take much to knock me over in this condition. Now I couldn't even run, and magic was out of the question since I couldn't focus with this ringing in my ears, and nausea. As I watched the corpse lurched twoards me again, I lept to the side, causing it to slam into the wall with a crash, and a shower of dust from the ceiling.
STanding, I stumbled as the room swam, but I had to get a weapon. The undead was getting closer, I could feel the weight of it's presence on my back, the hostility palpable as a dagger. Leaping aside again, its fists hammered into the floor, a spiderweb of cracks forming where I had been standing. I scanned for the greatsword, noticing a pedestal for the first time, a sword with a black blade sitting within. Not being dumb enough to just grab a sword in a monster infested cave system, I searched for the greatsword, but it was behind the giant corpse.
Out of options, and desperate, I stumbled twoards the sword, grasping the handle, and drawing the blade from the stone as easily as through air. The giant charged, I swung the blade, and all went black.
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