Bones journeyed for more than half a day, the desolate landscape of the Nether Realm stretching endlessly before him. As the hours passed, doubt crept into his mind. Had he missed a crucial turn, misinterpreted the visions guiding him, or veered onto the wrong path altogether? The pursuing zombies had ceased their chase hours ago, yet the elusive destination remained elusive. As he walked further, the ground beneath his feet transformed. Jagged peaks of obsidian rock pierced the ground, forming a jagged, uneven terrain that challenged even the hardiest of souls. The cold, lifeless sensation became more pronounced - a pure contrast to the vibrant warmth of the living world. Bones noted the remains of a building's foundation, a mere echo of some structure that once stood proudly in this otherworldly realm. The existence of such ruins puzzled him - a stark departure from the desolation he expected.
The silent breeze whispered through the enigmatic and surreal landscape, causing Bones' loose attire to flutter in the wind. The rugged grounds beneath his feet soon disappeared, leaving him stranded on a ridge overlooking an expanse, cloaked in an otherworldly gloom that hung in the air like an ominous shroud. The sky above, perpetually twilight, cast a dim haunting glow over a landscape that seemed to stretch beyond his sight. Ghostly wisps of ethereal fog drifted lazily through the air, adding to the surreal ambiance.
The Nether Realm unfolded as a wasteland, its inhabitants as diverse as the shades of darkness itself. Shadows, ever-present, seemed to take form and danced at the periphery of Bones vision. Spectral entities, fragments of bygone souls, wandered aimlessly, their existence a mere echo of the lives they once led. Sinister creatures, born of the twisted magic that permeated the realm, lurked in the shadows, their eyes gleaming with pure malevolence. It was a place where the boundary between life and death blurred, where time seemed to have lost its meaning.
The Nether Realm, Bones realized, was not just a void of life and undead wanderers. It was a complex tapestry, woven with the remnants of lost souls, animated creatures roaming the landscape, and an enigmatic magic that defied mortal understanding. The supernatural forces that governed it, casted an eternal spell over those who dared to venture into its haunted depths.
Bones stood in awe, whispering to himself, "This is the place." His words fading into nothingness before the sight in front of him. As his gaze traversed the alien scenery, it ultimately fixed upon the grandeur of the Necropolis and a pillar of light connecting the imposing spire of a tower, casting its dominance over the walls of the undead city, and the starless sky above.
Like a beacon of light, drawing moths to a flame, the spire was inviting. Mesmerized, Bones shook his head, dispelling the illusion cast upon him. The denizens in the vicinity of the undead city, however, marched toward the light in great numbers. The undead, driven by an unseen force, moved with purpose, their spectral forms disappearing in the vastness of the Necropolis. The air buzzed with an eerie energy until the beckoning pillar of light faded and disappeared, leaving the rest of the undead mingling outside the city walls.
The events unfolding didn’t deter Bones from continuing his descent down the slope and toward his destination in sight. On the contrary, he picked up his pace, eager to learn what happened and see the majestic tower. The mysteries of the Necropolis beckoned, and he felt a surge of anticipation coursing through him as he pressed forward, approaching the imposing city walls, each step carrying an unspoken tension that hung in the air like a thick fog. The skeletal fiends surrounding him harbored an unsettling enmity in their hollow gazes, and he couldn't shake the feeling that any wrong move could unleash the dormant hostility within them.
As he neared the gates, a hoarse voice sliced through the silence, sending a shiver down Bones' spine. He turned towards the source, finding a zombie leaning casually against the gate, its features grotesque yet strangely familiar. Murky green strands of hair clung to its bald head, a gaping hole in its cheeks revealing a grotesque display of rotten teeth, and an eyeball dangled precariously from its socket. However, it was the other eye, glowing an ominous red, that held Bones in an uneasy trance.
The zombie, seemingly the gatekeeper, straightened itself and limped towards Bones. Its movements were slow, deliberate, amplifying the tension in the air. The undead crowd observed the unfolding interaction with a display of apathy, their hollow eyes seemingly indifferent to the impending encounter between the living corpse and the approaching intruder.
"What faction?" the zombie rasped, its voice carrying a spectral echo that reverberated through the air. The question hung heavy, and Bones involuntarily took a step back, his senses on high alert. Silence enveloped them momentarily, broken only by the distant moans of the undead.
"What are you talking about? What faction?" Bones finally managed to muster a response, his voice barely audible in the eerie stillness.
The zombie grumbled under its breath, a sound akin to distant thunder. In a surprising turn, it reached behind, causing Bones to tense up. He watched as the zombie retrieved a piece of parchment and hastily jotted something down. The atmosphere thickened as the undead gatekeeper handed Bones the parchment and pointed towards the gates, signaling his passage into the city.
Bones accepted the parchment cautiously, his hollow eyes never leaving the zombie until he crossed through the gates, leaving the unsettling tension behind but carrying the weight of unanswered questions into the city. Curious, Bones glanced at what was written on the parchment and deciphered the words, "independent faction," scrawled in barely readable writing.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
He stood at the city gates, absorbing the haunting sight of the Necropolis. Once a great city boasting beautiful architecture and grand structures, it now stood as a solemn testament to the inexorable passage of time and the embrace of death. The city's walls, adorned with intricate carvings and majestic statues, had weathered the ages, bearing the scars of countless battles and the relentless erosion of the elements.
The remnants of what were once opulent buildings lined the streets, their once-glorious facades now marred by the grip of decay and neglect. Broken windows and crumbling pillars told a story of a city that had witnessed the ravages of time without the tender touch of care. The streets, once bustling with life, now echoed with the haunting whispers of the undead, their spectral forms shuffling through a once-vibrant metropolis.
In the heart of the Necropolis stood a towering citadel, its spire piercing the heavens like a morbid reminder of the city's former glory. The citadel's walls, adorned with eerie symbols and ominous glyphs, radiated an otherworldly energy that permeated the air. A central plaza, now a gathering place for the undead, bore the scars of countless rituals and ceremonies performed in the name of dark magic.
Despite the decay and desolation, a peculiar beauty lingered in the melancholic atmosphere of the Necropolis. The play of shadows on weathered stone, the eerie glow of ethereal lights, and the faint echoes of a city's distant memories painted a canvas of haunting allure. The city, once a beacon of life and grandeur, had metamorphosed into a city of the dead, a realm where the line between past and present blurred, and the echoes of a bygone era whispered through the skeletal remnants of its once-majestic architecture.
Bones ventured forth, strolling the streets with a renewed sense of purpose, paying close attention to every detail with newfound interest. At first, he didn't feel like the odd man out; seamlessly blending with the crowd of undead. As he traversed various paths, intersections, and crossed paths with other undead denizens, however, he couldn't shake the feeling that despite appearing like them, he wasn't truly one of them. He walked their walk, mimicked their appearance, but his actions set him apart.
Bones, driven by a sense of purpose and ambitions, observed the undead inhabitants around him. Unlike him, they moved aimlessly, with no apparent goal, as if caught in a perpetual loop of mindless actions. He retraced his steps and noticed the same undead in identical positions, performing repetitive movements like programmed minions.
A palpable sense of foreboding washed over him as he considered the possibility that he was lured here with malicious intent. Uncertainty about what awaited him after the impending meeting with whatever ill-intentioned being had invited him filled his thoughts. As he turned to leave, a distant murmur of voices reached his senses, prompting him to change direction and investigate.
Following the voices, Bones approached two undead zombies engaged in conversation, their slurred words escaping his comprehension. Intrigued, he discreetly trailed them until they disappeared around a bend into another alley. Determined, Bones followed, eavesdropping on the ongoing dialogue until he witnessed the zombies entering a rowdy establishment.
"A tavern? Here?" Bones couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement at the unexpected discovery. Approaching the entrance, he hesitated for a moment, contemplating what awaited him on the other side. After a brief internal deliberation, he opened the doors, revealing an interior heavy with the stench of decay and the foul aroma of something indescribable. A slight burning sensation disrupted the flow of his mana, and he coughed, reminiscent of distant memories of a stuffy nose and a sore throat. The persistent cough continued until a forceful hand slammed into his back, causing him to choke on that final cough.
“Tha- ” Bones' attempt to express gratitude hung in the air as the same hand grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up. Before him stood an abomination, towering over two meters tall, adorned with an apron and a scowling expression. Bones found himself in a state of confusion, embarrassment, and unwitting entertainment.
He argued with what he presumed to be the barkeep, urging him to cease the manhandling and allow him to purchase mana potions. His words brought a sudden hush to the rowdy tavern, and the barkeep released his grip, inquiring, “Why in the world would...” Pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance, the barkeep continued, “Why in the world would I have mana potions?” It dawned on Bones that his inquiry was a blunder. This was the Nether Realm, the Chaos Realm.
“Since you don’t eat and have nothing to drink…” The barkeep seized Bones by the collar again and promptly tossed him out onto the street.
“Don’t come again, if you do, I’ll break every bone in your body!” The unreasonable abomination slammed the doors shut, leaving Bones speechless and in an embarrassing state. A sense of dread filled him as he realized that the patron was likely the strongest being he had encountered so far, and breaking his bones wouldn’t be difficult at all – that's all he had!
He pushed himself up, turning to his golems, standing idle, and thanked them for patiently waiting outside. His sarcastic remark fell on the ears of another figure approaching him.
"You're as entertaining as I hoped you'd be, Mr. Jones."
Bones glanced at the newcomer, and his mouth opened wide in surprise. Before him stood an undead skeleton, adorned in an elegant velvet coat and a distinguished black cylinder hat. A hirsute appendage, specifically a handlebar mustache, graced his upper lip, and a monocle adorned his hollow left eye socket.
“Not-Greg?” Bones muttered. The undead skeleton before him raised an eyebrow, asking, “Is that the moniker you gave me?” Chuckling in response, the skeleton introduced himself properly for the first time.
“My name is Hugo, Hugo Aves, and welcome to Necropolis, Mr. Jones. May I call you Bones instead?” After the introduction, Hugo dropped another surprise on Bones.
“How do you know my name? I mean the name the system gave me!” Bones demanded to know.
“I seemed to have forgotten my manners - forgive me, Mr. Jones, it’s been a while since we last had a welcomed visitor. To answer your question and any other that might follow, I identified you just now and learned your name, race, class, and a…”
“Wait, wait, you learned all of that? And you can Identify me?”
“Of course, I’m proud to say my Identify skill is quite high, possibly the highest in all of the Nether Realm!” Hugo boasted, taking a moment for Bones to gather his thoughts.