Fate - First Reply The Golden Mask

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THE SPINE
CITY OF LIGHTWOOD

THE DEVIL COMES FROM BELOW



They said they came from here- they, being the village elders that had put up the notice all over the Spine for assistance.

The dead were plaguing Lightwood, feasting on their game, cutting trees. Very peculiar for the undead to do. The town guard had encountered several, and had come to blows- two guards dying, and the townsfolk repelling, at their words, dozens at once.

A whole army of them, practically. But Arnor had only encountered and taken care of three in his trek from Lightwood to the entrance to the mineshaft the locals had pinpointed the undead spewing from.

They said the dead walked here in droves, coming forth from this once- forgotten mineshaft. Some of the locals said it lead to an ancient city, forgotten- or perhaps, hidden by time. Arnor wondered what caused the apparent collapses in the wood beams, and why they were now repaired suddenly. His torch lit the way, his sword in the other hand, as he carefully stepped forward.

Something was amiss in this tunnel- the air was too cool, too spacious. There was also movement in it. The mine shaft must have opened to a larger chasm, or to a larger section of it. His torch was good for now- and recently lit torches. But did the dead need to see? Were they really, in droves- as they said? Creaks and moans stopped Arnor in his tracks. He was only a few steps into the mine shaft, and heard something behind him.

He swung his torch around, sword at the ready, the light barely reaching in the darkness of the night.

"Who goes there?"









 
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From atop his horse, Kaige Severos surveyed the entrance to the abandoned mine. For the moment, it was quiet, save for the faint crumbling of falling dirt and pebbles. A rat scurried by, disrupting the earthen floor with tiny paws, and a crow circled overhead, hoarse call breaking the silence. But sounds and sights were fleeting, and often deceiving; through his legs Kaige could feel his steed’s stiff anxiety, and could persuade the horse to go no farther. And even from here, Kaige could smell it – the rot and the decay, and feel it shivering across his skin. The sensation of evil, subtle yet intense. Much like the tickling of a knife against one’s throat.

Kaige dismounted. He stretched his arms and legs in quick, short movements. The black leather armor that covered his body shifted and creaked with the motion, but it was ready, old yet tough and perfectly fitted. He tested the buckles and padded joints. The undead was not Kaige’s usual prey, and he did not know what abilities, what kind of retaliation, they might make.

Slinging a pack of supplies across his back and settling his spear over his shoulders, Kaige stepped into the wavering darkness. A few steps in, he took a torch from its battered sconce, and proceeded on.

It was not so much different from the sewers and lost ruins Kaige often traversed. The echoes were less here and the light greater, brought on by the lit torches that lined the cavernous walls. That itself brought a frown to Kaige’s face. Who had lit them? Did the dead need to see? Surely their minds were as decomposed as their bodies must be. Warily, Kaige ventured on, his steps unnervingly silent. He’d mastered the art of stealth in his years of hunting demons, and felt it would be of particular use here.

He glanced down. A skull leered up at him, its pale cranium cracked. Kaige nudged it aside, and it was only then he heard it – hollow moans and sighs distant as a fading nightmare. He clenched his teeth as he quickened his step, breathing in a slow, long breath of the cold, stale air. Sour, like bad meat.

The torches’ light seemed to grow less effective. Kaige didn’t know how long he’d been in this place, but all at once a stronger light illuminated the dark, and a voice called out a challenge.

He held his hand up against the crimson light and straightened, surprised yet somewhat relieved to find someone else here.

“Hold,” he called, voice low. “I’m no threat to you, if you’re truly alive.”
 
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Arnor's face was shadowed by the torch, and he lowered it to let the stranger get a good luck at him. The Nordenfiir was big, tall, and broad-shouldered, like most of his species. His face wasn't particularly old, but not quite young either. Quite obviously an experienced man- and the small scars on his face showed his experience, or at least, a lifetime of hardship.

But his eyes were sharp, drawn on the stranger.

But they both quickly relaxed, thankfully. No, they must have been after the same thing. Arnor held the torch in his hand, swaying it around the cavern, illuminating the stone masonry on the walls. It was almost as if, they were standing in an ancient city street.

"As far as I'm aware, I'm alive."

He looked around, adjusting the axe on his belt and the swords on his back.

"But something is amiss. This cave system- too large. It's far too large for a mineshaft." He puckered his lips, turning towards the... road, almost, cobblestone and stone that lead further into the cave. Colder air, and more moaning.

"And the creepy moaning. I am Arnor, son of Skuld." More appropriately in the Summer Lands, he was known as the Axe of Knottington. In the right circles, known. In the wrong circles, hated.
 
Stepping agreeably into the light, Kaige lowered his torch in kind as he surveyed the man before him. This Arnor, Son of Skuld, was just very slightly taller than Kaige, and obviously a warrior, told if not by the scars than by the formidable weapons carried. He was well-muscled too; Kaige was of a leaner build, made for speed over strength… although he was far from weak.

Clearly Arnor was not one to meddle with. A good friend, perhaps.

Arnor. Where did he hear that name before? Oh, right.

Kaige dipped his head in polite greeting to the warrior. “Kaige Severos, at your service. Forgive me, I’ve never fought undead before.” I’ve fought worse nightmares. “I think you’re right, though. It’s more like a ruin of something a little more… sophisticated than a mine.” Kaige knew about ruins. This was no simple cave.

Another moan reverberated through the cavern, louder, angry, anguished. Suddenly, a flurry of rats and mice scurried past, scrambling over rocks and feet alike. A few clambered up Arnor and Kaige’s bodies, leaping from their shoulders in their haste to escape the darkness waiting ahead.

“Well, that’s discouraging,” Kaie commented mildly. “If we’re not careful, neither of us might be alive for long. Do you have a plan, Arnor? Any magic? Traps? Good running shoes?” He chuckled dryly. Then, ”Get behind me, please. I’ve got a spear and can hold them off if they come at a rush.”
 
"I know of you."

Arnor was a learned man- one did not make it this far in his profession by not being one. It paid to know the who's-who of the Monster Hunting and in this case, the Demon Hunting variety. Demons, malicious spirits- Arnor preferred to not get involved.

But ghosts, goblins, ghouls- that much, Arnor was well adept at handling.

"Undead are simply that. Moreoften than not, not of their own will. More importantly- rarely do they have any thoughts of their own anymore. Do not hesitate or spare them, or show them mercy like the living. That's all I ask."

The rats came to Arnor, but seemed... disturbed by him. In reality, it was his scent to animals. The same reason horses, game, and others avoided Nordenfiir: they smelled of predators. Arnor looked at him, as he took the lead in descending down the cobblestone pathway.

"Just a single spear."

Arnor had two swords, and the Axe of Knottington.

And, the obvious gift of the weapon of his people. Though, he had not turned in quite some time. It was usually off-putting to companions, and more importantly, customers. He stepped forward, the swarm of rats subsiding. Something had caused them to run in fear.

The moans gave way to silence, and Arnor put a finger to his lips. Their path was dark, barely illuminated by the torch Arnor carried, until a large chasm opened before them, only lit- barely, with torches. A path laid through the chasm-

But Arnor was the first to speak of the chasm, once the light grew and they both had time to take in the view, their vantage point on a cliff overlooking the chasm. To their right, a large pathway lead further down. And down, and down.

"It's... a city."

Indeed, it was. Ancient, old, and stone. But the massive chasm, miles wide perhaps- was a city. Stone buildings, archways, streets, vendors, dilapidated and fading with time, but a city all the same. Not a large one, but enough that Arnor could even see it.
 
Kaige was rather surprised Arnor knew of him – his deeds he had not thought to reach this far. To himself he frowned. His employer, who preferred utmost privacy and secrecy, would not be pleased to have a hunter on the charts of fame. Kaige imagined he would soon receive a message to move with better care. If someone like the infamous Axe knew of him, who else might? Arnor didn’t seem like the type to talk much, but other men were chatterboxes.

An eyebrow lifted as Arnor took the lead, appearing to disdain Kaige’e spear. It was a familiar reaction. The spear was a fine make, the finest Kaige had ever known since the day he had been gifted it. Still, most looked at it, saw it was a single weapon and laughed.

They had no idea what Kaige could do with it. It was not just a single spear in Kaige’s hands.

In his circle, he was not called the best for nothing.

Be that is it may, Kaige was not offended. Someone like the Axe of Knottington would not be easily impressed anyway. Kaige followed the light of the torch; when Arnor gestured for silence, Kaige obeyed, crouching low to the ground, his footsteps smooth, making less noise than a hunting serpent. It was some time before the pathway opened up into a gaping chasm.

“It’s… a city.”

So it was. Kaige took in the remnants of the ruins, eyes narrowed, suspicious as he was impressed.

Something was wrong. He tapped Arnor on the arm and pointed with his spear. There was a vendor’s stall, laid with jewelry that sparkled even in the dark shadows. He pointed in another direction, to a table outside a squat building, laden with molding food, crumbling, untouched for ages. The chairs sat a crooked angle, as if someone had just gotten up and left. There were other signs too, of a population that had just… vanished. A door with shoes placed carefully upon the step. A cart laden with various goods left on an open street. Other stalls, displaying items of great and minimal worth. There was one with a catch of fish, rotten. But there were no skeletons, no bodies. There was no sign of a battle, no sign of slaughter or violence of any kind. The buildings were, while neglected and aged, remained untouched and otherwise pristine.

Kaige tilted his head at Arnor, his question clear if unspoken. Do we go down?
 
There was a voice- but it sounded like many, in the distance of the cave.... almost feint, but there.

It was vacant, empty.

He looked over at the cliff-face, and the path that descended below. He looked over at the other man, nodding. They needed to at least know, at the very least, what was down here. Running, was always an option.

Dead men didn't get paid, after all.

Arnor descended first, his torch barely covering the darkness. The cliff face wasn't terribly had to scale- in fact, it was wide, the path. The path was nearly twelve feet wide. Arnor turned to his new companion, tightening his grip on his torch as they were about to reach the end of the path, and onto the city streets below.

The Nordenfiir were known for many things, including their particular smell, earthy, but not foul. But Arnor smelled like soap- lilac and gooseberry, to be exact. He stepped forward- and when the pair of them walked just a bit further into the streets, a peculiar thing happened.

There was light. Blue-white light, and voices, people. But translucent, and the city was returned to it's former glory. They were hustling and bustling, as if nothing was wrong. Torches were lit on the walls, the same eerie blue-white light that covered everything. They were moving as if they were made of smoke. But they all stopped, and then-

A chorus of voices, speaking at once. Women, men, children. All combined into one.

ONLY THE DEAD MAY WALK HERE. TURN BACK.

Arnor tightened his grip on the torch, and snarled. It all faded away, the city returned to it's former glory, and the pair were left the empty, decaying ruins of the city by themselves. And then, the moans began to get louder, and lights formed at the other end of the ruins, or at least- perhaps just further. Torches.

They were being advanced upon.

Arnor drew one of his swords, turning to his companion. The bundle of torches was moving closer, and the voices were back. Discombobulated and random, with no real words or phrases to be discerned. Perhaps, they were speaking another language.

Or, perhaps many.

"We should lay a trap for them. Any ideas?"
 
Holding his spear close to his side Kaige followed Anor into the city. As they walked the path he studied his companion, whose graceful footsteps, silent walk, and solid build cemented the fact he was surely a warrior. And yet, there was something different too. Most soldiers, hired or untamed that Kaige had ever known, reeked of something. Usually this was figurative – morosity, veiled anger or misery, perhaps regret or depression at a life full of fighting and death. Sometimes, of course, it was literal- they smelled of blood.

By contrast, Arnor smelled almost pleasant, and Kaige wondered if thinking so was politically incorrect as they descended.

Light washed into the city, lighting up walls and long-dead candles and torches. The tantalizing smell of fresh bread and fine drink filled the air. The sounds of lively business and work followed. Then the people, all of them moving about as the living would. The only difference was the blue glow, that shine of unnatural presence Kaige had only heard of in stories, myths, and legends.

Their heads turned and their mouths opened in the same instant.

“Turn back.”

Their combined voices, hollow, echoing, raised the hairs on Kaige’s neck. He considered that he had never dealt this sort of thing before when it all vanished, and the ruins returned. Well, that was dramatic.

The moans were back in full force, and a sea of something was head towards them. It came with a new smell – rot. The rot of worm-eaten flesh, dead skin and gnawed bone.

Kaige remained calm, however. This sort of smell was nothing new to him. As for death, why, he’d already accepted his mortality a long time ago.

Arnor suggested a trap. Kaige looked up at the ceiling. It was smooth. Causing a quake would result in a few boulders dropping loose and probably nothing more. It was also dangerous, and required what Kaige didn’t have; a high-force spell or equivalent machine.

He looked at the waxy candles and dead torches. Of these none were lit anymore, and even if they were all ablaze there was nothing to burn but ineffective stone. Useless.

No water, no beasts, stale air, no other living soul.

They were getting close. Closer. Kaige switched his grip on the spear, the blade down and pointed towards the way they came.

Kaige looked at Arnor. “I don’t have anything other than a healing spell. If you have nothing either, we might be in for a rough time, friend.

“I’m good to fight. Are you?”
 
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(We are so back.)

"Creepy."

Arnor said. Didn't seem his first time with ghosts- or phantoms, or illusions. Or... something else. Arnor felt like it was something else. Something more sinister than just ghosts and phantoms. How did a city- clearly not built underground, get here?

Answers would come later.

"Stay close."

He narrowed his eyes, drawing his heavy two-handed sword, one of them at least- and crouched near a building. In total, there were maybe 20 undead- soldiers. Guards. Kept alive by the same magic- eerie blue-white magic, propped up with whispy vapors that seemed to animate where flesh and bone had deteriorated beyond structure.

Arnor crouched near a delipidated building, and watched the undead guard come closer and closer- And stepped out, pivoting on his heel. He drove his blessed sword through the chest of the guard, who let out an ethereal scream- as if dozens of voices were inside, and then burst apart, a bright shower of sparks and bright ashes fell to the ground. The guards reacted quickly- without fear, or hesitation. The undead did not fear death, and went to fight Arnor rather quickly.

Unfortunately for them, he was still Arnor, Son of Skuld, the Axe of Knottington.

He sidestepped a stab that came towards him, and brought his sword down on the shoulder of the guard, cleaving him- or what was left of him, in half.

The fight was on, and Arnor may have taken on two, but... there were more to go. But he didn't seem afraid. In fact, Arnor may have been capable of taking them all on.
 
As Arnor found his ambush position, so did Kaige find his. Tightening his grip about the spear he slid behind a dilapidated booth stacked high with books and writing implements -pens, inks, stamps, even loupes, and more. Through the gaps he could see them clearly as the dead drew into clear sight. Soldiers, all of them – armed, armored, and unafraid. The magic seeped from their bones, and their eyes glowed an icy blue. They felt nothing, and fear was no excpetion.

Nor was it for the Axe of Knottington. A brutal dance cut the number of undead by two. Immediately recognizing the threat, the soldiers turned on Arnor with equal ferocity, surprising speed, and with a unity that would down any normal warrior.

Arnor wasn’t normal, and even if he was, Kaige took action.

He slid across the ground, and his spear swept up and around. The long blade whistled as it cut through the air, crashing into the neck of a skeleton who was swinging its sword at the Axe. Light flashed as the spear, enchanted by magic and enhanced by skill, sliced clean through bone and rotting skin. The stained jaw clattered as the bones followed the head down to the ground.

It didn’t stop there. With a fluid dance of his own, Kaige charged into the midst of the fray. His spear never stopped moving, cutting through limbs, smashing through skeletal bodies, disarming and disabling, killing and further mutilating, one by one. A skeletal with a maul shambled forward; the thrown spear slashed into its chest, pinning it the ground. A bold leap forward and Kaige snatched the spear back up and twisted, sending the blade colliding into another foe. Bones shattered and broke around the demon hunter as he fought tirelessly.

Yes, it was only a spear, one weapon. But it was more; it was a part of Kaige’s body, an extension of himself that knew no mercy.

Jawbones smacked together and eyes blazed as the undead realized another threat. With renewed vigor they crowded around the Axe and the Demon Hunter, weapons raining down, up and forward. Their number was dwindling, but still they surged forth.
 
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The undead were felled, cut to ribbons by the duo. Arnor fought like a madman, his sword dancing, blocking, cleaving, being used as a hammer like at times. Arnor fought savagely- he was skilled, and trained, for sure- but he lacked finesse, he lacked grace.

But their numbers were plenty- and there was only two. Arnor drew himself down below, and let his sword fall to the ground below. And with a great mighty roar- a flash of light...

Where Arnor once stood, there was now a more terrifying presence to the enemy, and perhaps to his compatriot: the nearly ten foot tall bear. His Svalen form.

He had not undertaken it in some time, and the great beast began to claw and tear through the enemy, cutting them apart- and ripping them, in some cases. The undead were quickly felled, Arnor's massive form allowing him to easily cut through the enemy. He stopped in his Svalen form, standing up on his hind legs after ripping the enemy apart-

And roared a mighty roar, a war cry.

A warning, even.

He stopped, looking down at the ground, and with another flash of light and a magical transformation, was back to how he was when they first met. He panted, however- the process wasn't exhausting, due to him having done it so much, but it was still tiring, even after all this time. Arnor grabbed his sword from the ground, using it to lift himself up.

Further up ahead, a light shown. A tunnel? A road? It was faintly blue- like the other magic here.

Then, the voices came- but not the visage that they once had. Whispers, incoherent, some more than others. They were only voices now. Some held conversations, some spoke to each other, some cried out to Arnor and Kaige. They grew in volume and in number, and there was a faint sensation of touch on either of the hunter's persons- as if ghostly hands were pulling them back to the entrance.

Perhaps the dead were wanting to warn them, to save them.

Perhaps they were telling them something else.

Or perhaps they were being controlled. Arnor held up his silver sword- and looked at his new friend.

"Do we hold here, go get more help, or press on, friend?"

Arnor seemed impressed by the man. That much was certain.
 
All his training raced through Kaige’s mind as he battled the dead. Endless, sleepless days of harsh lessons, covering survival and how to wield the spear he had chosen to be his primary weapon. Months dedicating to learning the seemingly unlimited techniques centered around the polearm. Years, exhausting, sapping years, of learning that he would never be as hardy or as strong as one such as Arnor.

But Kaige’s master, as stern and strict as he was, was also fair and insightful, and saw in Kaige what few others did. He recognized the potential in his then-young student, and under his tutelage and careful nurturing, drew out Kaige’s true strength. Where Kaige lacked in brute strength he made up for in speed, agility, and grace. A hundred times over, he mastered the techniques of his tool using those traits, and now he was considered the best of his deadly trade.

A skeleton drew up on him, wielding two swords in fleshless hands. Kaige was well prepared to take it on, but a flash of light entered his vision, and a mighty set of bear claws crushed the skeleton into pieces. Kaige’s eyes widened in awe and great appreciation as he drew back from the fray so as not get in the way of the monstrous creature tearing apart what remained of the undead.

It was over in seconds.

Such a feat clearly tired Arnor, and Kaige gave the mighty warrior a moment of breath before looking ahead, the glow there speaking of more challenge to come.

His eyes flickered over to Arnor as the man called him something Kaige hadn’t heard in a while. Friend. For the first time, Kaige smiled. Most men and women appreciated Kaige only as a tool, a weapon, a thing to fight the enemies they could not defend themselves from. They thought him lacking emotion, with no interest in anything above how hard his armor might be or how sharp his spear was, how ready he was for the next monster or demon.

“Getting help would take too long. And there’s no one above ground for miles around,” Kaige said. He paused, then spoke his thoughts aloud. “What good would simply standing here do? Nothing, I’d say.” He rolled his shoulder back in a refreshing stretch. “I’m going on. If you’re coming with me, do you need a moment? Even the Axe of Knottington can’t be invincible,” Kaige grinned. “Yes, I’ve heard of you. I am honoured to fight alongside you.”
 
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They were both in need of a respite, and they got it just briefly when the undead were cut down, in droves. He took a deep breath, the transformation causing him to be somewhat less than he was before. Not that it wasn't beneficial- in fact, he could come and go as he wanted to, as did all of his people.

He smiled back at Kaige, and looked over at the light, before he reached into his pocket- taking out a pack of dried meat, wrapped in linen to keep it fresh. He took a large bite, offering one to Kaige.

"The Axe of Knottington." He said with a grin, shaking his head. "You know, funny enough- that whole battle. Didn't use an axe. And I wasn't alone. I started the defense, sure, but. There were plenty there to help me." He took a deep breath, looking out to the tunnel as they walked to it, chewing on his food for a moment before speaking again.

He kept his sword in his free hand, however.

"The dead speak here. I can't say that I've encountered anything quite like this- the dead, in such great numbers. Or... a buried city. That isn't destroyed, or abandoned." He took a moment to look around, before he continued to walk, the pair walking further. As they got closer, it was indeed a road-

And the light grew brighter, and whispers.

But in another language.

Not common.

Indecipherable at first, but Arnor only knew of some other languages, besides his people's and Common. Elvish, maybe? Or something else? But the city- this town, they walked to, was different. Different architecture, different structure, different layout. But the same eerie blue light lingered. And what became more apparent, as a singular blue light, an orb almost, flew up from the middle of the city- they were being watched from above. Hooded figures in golden masks were looking down at them from above, the massive cavern littered with steps and natural balconies.

But they didn't move, speak, or even appear alive. Statues, maybe? Or just still? Arnor looked up as the light grew brighter- and the voices came back. Shifting, swirling around them. But no spectral figures this time. The voices were pleading, begging in some cases. They were at the same time, next to the duo, far away from them, whispering and shouting. A symphony of agonized voices, all crying out in unison. Man, woman, child.

Arnor tightened his grip on his sword.

"You hear them too- don't you?"

Kaige Severos
 
Hungry now from the expenditure of energy, Kaige gratefully took the meat, taking a hefty bite. Kept fresh, it was good – carefully seasoned and preserved with spices and salt. Not a lavish meal, but a familiar one Kaige often kept in his pack himself. He slid his pack from his shoulders and drew out a specially made ration cake. Crafted of coarse meat with fruit, rendered fat, and bits of cheese, it was a perfect traveling food. It also didn’t taste quite so nasty as hard tack. Offering one to Arnor, he glanced over at the work they had completed. The bones, shattered and broken apart with rotten flesh still clinging, created a grisly sight. And there were so many. Kaige hoped that was the worst it would get, even as he knew the trouble was just likely beginning.

“You’re modest,” Kaige commented approvingly as he stepped alongside Arnor, swallowing the last of the meat. “That’s a rare thing these days.” Most mighty warriors boasted grandly about their glorious feats, only to be felled later on by their own bloated egos.

At first, the voices were barely a whisper. Even Kaige’s sharp hearing could barely make it out. As they grew louder, he struggled to identify it, failing as he realized it was neither Common, Elvish, or anything else he knew of. The patterns, cadence, and tempo all signaled a full and developed tongue, and it was not one that existed above ground. The hairs on Kaige’s nick bristled. What was this place?

An orb shot up into the sky, an airborne eye, and the voices heightened into an unearthly wail. Kaige looked up to see the figures, robed in brown, with golden masks gleaming under the blue light. The masks were circular discs, lacking facial features or slits for eyes or mouth. Instead, they were carved with odd, intricate symbols, glyphs, and images. All differed from one to the next, and Kaige’s speculative frown grew deeper as he examined the masks. They gave him a nearly sick feeling.

“Mhmm, how could I not?” he murmured to Arnor’s words.

They had stopped, surrounded by the alien voices, watched by the orb. The golden masks stayed still and motionless.

Cautionsly, Kaige took a step forward.

With the same, abupt motion that caused Kaige to freeze, the masks all turned to lock on the two. The voices, already near unbearable, became a piercing shriek.

Then suddenly, it stopped.

The voices dropped away, fading into a smothering silence.

Until they began return. This time, as a chant.

It was deep, this threatening new song, pulsing, rising and falling in words that were at once beautiful and ominous. Some of the voices sighed in the background; others called out their words while more sang, all in a single united, stately beat.

Kaige’s grip on his spear, in contrast to Arnor’s tight hold, loosened, ready to use.

“Tell me, Arnor,” Kaige said. “What would you do if you knew you would die today?”
 
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[ Sorry. ]

"Modesty goes a long way. Nordenfiir, my people, are never shy to ask for help. Hunts are never successful alone, my father used to say." He said, his eyes hardening for a second at the mention of his father. And especially something somewhat positive. He quickly moved ahead, not giving the stranger time to even remotely ask about his upbringing.

Arnor stood still as the voices came together, trying to piece together anything he could from them. Unsuccessfully. The orb, the voices- the eerie way the masked figures, or statues, moved to face the pair...

Safe to say, Arnor was scared. Truly fearful, however, he pressed on. The orb was there, and the voices grew into a steady hum, finally becoming a single chorus. The masked figures watched from above, as Arnor and his compatriot moved to the light.

Surely, it was a trap, perhaps the machination of this madness. But Arnor saw no other way to discover what was going on. What happened. Who these people were- and most importantly, what happened to them.

"I would die on my terms, not someone else's, Kaige." He said dryly to the Demon Hunter. He pressed forward, before stopping. He was held in place, was was the Demon Hunter. He grit his teeth, unable to move, his sword held low at his side.

"Arnor, Son of Skuld."
Came a single, deep, booming voice. Echoing around them- and in their minds. He grit his teeth, closing his eyes.

"Severos, Hunter of Demons."
A figure loomed forward, much like the robed, masked figures on the cliff-face. However, bearing a red mask, with a face on it. Somewhat of a face. Distorted, changing? Or perhaps even false. Or, as Arnor suspected- perhaps not truly there.

"He hungers. He hungers once more. Waking from his slumber, soon- we will feed him once more."
He raised up his hands, and the robed figures began to move, in terrifying unison, goose-stepping into the tunnels from the perches where they stood, spinning on their heels. Whoever this thing, person, man, demon, ghost was-

It seemed to be in control, or a representation of what was to come.


"You will witness."

"You will see."

"You will join us."

"You will die."

Arnor moved only slightly, his sword moving to the red-masked figure by just an inch or so. He looked over at Kaige- who seemed to be better off. Perhaps it was Kaige's willpower. Perhaps Kaige's armor. Or maybe his training- but Arnor was barely able to move, moving as if six hands were holding his arm down. He couldn't speak either, the words bouncing around his mind in a rather unpleasant manner.