A bog of darkness and death that anyone with a brain would stay away from continuously bubbled about. Foot steps could be heard along with the sounds of groaning, and the scraping of metals. "Alright ladies, it seems we're practically at the spot of the request. Start setting up a base camp and look for some provision." The booming voice came from a man, about 40 years of age. A large upper body with solid muscles that were probably built from the over sized claymore sheathed onto his back. A noticeable scar went from one side of his face to the other across the bridge of his nose. Carrying the air of a veteran warrior, he continued to command the others that were with him. Quick steps approached the veteran warrior, he turned to see one of his companion step forward. The thin man quickly readjusted his posture and pulled out a notebook, skimming through the notes and nodding in satisfaction he began his report. "All tents have been set up along with the barbed fences, we are still surveying the lands for food, but it seems this bog isn't suitable for wild life. Some plants that were harvested in the area are edible but are to few in number to sustain our group. One of the scouting parties have also reported that they had seen a numerous amounts of Skeleton Soldiers wondering around. The number isn't so large that it would effect us, but large enough to become a nuisance if provoked." The thin man concluded the report and began to walk back to his previous station. In his own thoughts the veteran warrior began to recollect the information regarding the task they had taken up, pondering as to why they were needed for such a simple request. Normally tasks and requests such as surveying lands had always been given to the lower adventurer parties. But this time, the person that put up this job request had strongly requested high level adventurers. Something wasn't sitting right with the veteran warrior, he knew that whatever the task was, it wasn't the true aim of this request. "ARGH!" A yell immediately resounded the area startling all the adventurers. Turning their heads looking for where the scream had came from another yell had resounded. "Oh god, Skeletons!" With that sudden out cry all the adventurers began to scramble for their weapons, and in matter of seconds, a battle between the living and the dead had begun.

_______________ 

     Darkness. All it could see was darkness. An unending darkness along with the weight of something. Stuck in position and surrounded by the nothingness it began to panic, trying to thrash its way into freedom. It's struggle was not in vain as one of it's arms was able to break free. Continuously fighting about, after countless amounts of thrashing and wiggling, it was able to bring its upper body out of it's prison. With the feeling of relief, it began to look around. "Where is this place?" It continuously surveyed the foreign lands that laid before it as it began to to wrestle the rest of its body out of the ground. Successful in it's endeavors for freedom it noticed that it's arms were not of flesh, but that of bone. Obsidian, it's hands and arms, legs and all, were comprised of obsidian bones. Shock ran threw it at the realization that it was not human anymore, but oddly, it felt peace. Nothing about the flesh-less body felt out of place, in fact, it didn't even seem to noticed any differences to being human. The only reason it was shocked was because it had retained it's memories as a human named Argus Fellford. As time had passed, Argus was slowly trying to adapt to the situation that he was currently in, he understood that he probably died during his attempt to escape from his attackers. Looking at his hands again, he pondered about how he turned into a undead skeleton, it wasn't like he had ever dabbled in dark magic, nor did he ever make an attempt at necromancy. Unable to come up with any reason as to why he had become a skeleton, he decided to just place the reason on fate and destiny. 

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

     He rose up and began walking about with no idea as to where he currently was, judging by the rotting trees and logs along with the unending muddy field, he concluded that he was in some sort of swamp. As he continued along his aimless journey he happened to come across a mass of undead skeletons. Most of these flesh-less fiends were wielding weapons such as, swords, axes, spears, and a few even seemed to be equip with tower shields. He also noticed that towards the end of the skeletal army was a small group of floating skeletons. "Liches! And more then one. Something serious must be happening in this swamp land." The skeletal horrors that Argus had laid his glowing blue eyes on was a small group of undead monsters known as a lich. Skeletal mages that could cast mighty spells and raise corpses into more undead soldiers. Just one of these spell slinging undeads could cause quite the trouble when fought against, but a group like this would most definitely bring chaos to the living. As Argus continued to study the undead platoon, the group of undead monsters started to march in a single direction. Curious as to were the skeletal army was headed, Argus began to follow behind, not sure as to why they suddenly began to move. Unsure if he would be attacked or not, he kept some distance from the undead, and after what felt like an hour of stalking he managed to see why they had marched in that specific direction.

_______________ 

     A small band of armed humans began clashing with the undead monsters. Out numbered by the skeletal army, one would expect the human group to fall, and that would be the case if not for the leader of the group. A big man with a noticeable scar, was running around and swinging a long claymore cutting down small numbers of undead with each cleave. With the shout of their leader, the adventures began swiftly getting into formation. "All spear-man in front! Don't let those undead bastards get through to the archers and casters. Archers, use the hammer-face arrows and aim for the back lines. Mages are to begin casting large fire and earth spells along with supporting the spear-man. Priests are to start healing the injured and await further orders in case of sighting stronger undeads. Don't let single undead get through to the base!" After relaying orders, the army of skeletal menaces began to dwindle down, using the knowledge he had gained from fighting the undead before, every order given was aimed at the weakness of the undead enemies. The ground was scorched in some places, and in areas that didn't see any fire magic, was instead riddled with rocks and arrows. Most of the weaker Skeletal Soldiers were dealt with, and the only ones that seemed to actually put up a fight were the Skeleton Knight. Because they wielded tower shields, they were able to defend against the arrows and most of the earth magic that was cast. Looking around the veteran warrior noticed that something wasn't right, attacks like these were common, and after looking around the battle field there didn't seem to be any more threats in the area. Even knowing this, the veteran warrior could help but feel anxious, cold sweat could be felt on the back of his neck. He turned to his companions to see the aftermath of the battle, only a few spear-man were injured and even less were killed. "Let's clean up the rest of these flesh-less freaks and--" before he could finish his sentence he was cut off by the screams of his troops "LICHES!" as they were shouting five out of the seven Liches had cast a fire spell. Unable to react fast enough the veteran warrior turned to see multiple fireballs head straight for him. Weapon sheathed he knew he would be burned to a crisp, and as he saw the flames about to engulf him, a black shadow had ran in between him and his fiery death. In a split second the flames of wrath had been dowsed out and in place of the burning inferno was a field of frozen swords. Shocked by the scene in front of him, the veteran warrior turned to see his savior and to his surprise, there stood an obsidian skeleton wrapped in tattered clothing with glowing blue eyes, holding onto a sword that was covered in a silver frost.