Dark Age Year 871
Ninth day of the Eighth month
When they decided to explore the abandoned ruins and investigate the stairway that lay beneath, Tharos didn’t expect much. He had already seen similar things during adventures in his youth of dungeons deep and caverns old. As they travelled down the steps, flashes of these past adventures crossed his mind, until they became one in the endless sea of memories that was his mind. All these many experiences, some of triumph and some of terror, were now blending into one another as if they were all just a continuation of the same event, the same adventure turning into just one scene, just one monument. Maybe they would find some treasure, coins, and trinkets from a bygone era that came and went like all civilisations, past, present, and future. Perhaps they would find some books and scrolls containing information on who built this place or encounter horrors of unknown origins.
However, this place was different. The architecture was like nothing he had ever seen before, and it wasn’t arrogant of him to say that he had seen a lot and knew a lot of things. When he came across things he had never seen before or didn’t know, it did bother him. Not because the intellect he was so famous for was proven wrong, for him true intelligence and wisdom wasn’t about being right or all-knowing, it was knowing that you can’t or won’t know everything. It wasn’t for those reasons, no that this bothered him. It was because Tharos didn’t want to commit the cardinal sin of being ignorant. For Tharos, being ignorant of the world around you was the worst thing to be. Who does the most evil, those who do it willingly or those who don’t understand the evils they have wrought?
That job several months back in Aurelia Silva had proven that very point. One person’s choice, motivated by greed and ignorance, caused the death of so many people. The real tragedy is that if everything had been left alone, things would have been fine, and no one would have died. Tharos wouldn’t have had to get his hands dirty, slogging through the filth and muck that was the undead. Of hunting and grim visages, of greenish rotting flesh, and bleached white bones.
Upon closer inspection, they discovered that the supposedly abandoned ruins housing goblins and their stolen plunder were actually what was once a crypt, housing the remains of a tomb for an unknown individual. The mystery of who was buried in that crypt lingered in their minds. Was it a legendary warrior, a monarch, or a powerful mage? The answer remained elusive. Beneath the sarcophagus, they found a stairway leading to an unknown destination. As they descended, they stumbled upon an underground structure different from the one above. Tharos suspected that this hidden structure was intentionally buried, unlike the one above, which was built upon the foundation of something long forgotten. At first, he thought they had come across an old and abandoned dwarven hold. While the dwarves mostly lived deep underground in the mountains, it was not uncommon for them to have small colonies near the surface or above.
However, as they ventured further, Tharos started to believe that this place might be something much darker. Although he couldn’t prove it, it was just a hunch. As they walked through the halls of the underground structure, taking in the sights and sounds and seeing things that none of them had ever seen before, he had a feeling that maybe this place was connected to the Sky People of legend. This was due to the striking resemblance of the liquid metal used in the construction to the beings of liquid metal and the giant monster that he battled in the shadows of Zarbar. However, all he had was speculation. Speculation that was based more on myth and legend than actual fact. As they travelled through the bowels of this building, he couldn’t sense anything; the only things he could sense were his companions and the faint magical energies that emanated from Jabari robes.
He thought, perhaps incorrectly, that this place, whatever it was, had long been abandoned, with only dust and old bones remaining. Maybe there would even be some bugs and rats eking out a meagre existence. However, this soon proved not to be the case, as Cedric had wandered off and found something unexpected—bodies, lots of bodies. Bodies of humans, elves, and even dwarfs. Their armour and weapons resembled those found in books or in the archives. The creatures that lay slain before them looked like some of the creatures mentioned in the legends. According to the tales, the Sky People had the power to create life, and they often sent their children against the armies of Mithra during the dark years of the apocalypse war. But to see this in the flesh was awe-inspiring to say the least. Among the human bodies, he recognised some of these people.
Most of the human bodies were Zarbarians like himself, although they appeared shorter in stature or thinner than he remembered. However, there was another group of people he didn’t recognise at first. They were much taller and broader. Some of them, though it was hard to discern due to the dim lighting and the years spent underground, had metallic gold or silver-colored hair. He speculated that this other group might be the Arianen he had heard about. According to legend, the Arianen were once at war with his people. However, when the sky people arrived, all animosities were set aside to face a common enemy. The Arianen were described as tall individuals with pale white skin, often possessing metallic golden or silver hair and eyes. They were renowned as powerful warriors and mystics, unmatched by many, and were said to have the ability to tame and ride dragons, a skill shared with his people during the war. Legend has it that the Arianen were nearly wiped out during the conflict, with only a small handful of children surviving, who were taken in by his people by the war’s end. The fate of these children, however, remained unknown. Were they all killed, thus ending the Arianen people and their bloodline for good, or did they, over time, perhaps with a generation or two, slowly intermarry with his people? The two peoples becoming one. It was a question that the legends and, most importantly, the history books left open, not that he would have time at the moment to ponder and brood upon such questions, for history was about to come alive, and if he wasn’t careful, he and his companions were soon about to join become apart of history.
Standing before Tharos now were the destroyed remains of bodies made of liquid metal. On the tip of Tharos’ blade was one of the power cores that he had stabbed out. The air around him was thick with blood and sweat, and the only sounds he could hear outside of the loud, siren-like noise that echoed in the hallways were the heavy breathing and thumping hearts of his companions. However, that was the least of his issues. He could sense more foes approaching from all directions, and as they drew nearer, his head started to pound as he was assaulted by sharp headaches. Deep within the building itself, he could feel a thumping and rumbling coming from several floors beneath them that was humming with energy. Whatever this place was or whatever they did, it was now coming alive. But there was something else as well; to the north of him, he sensed the presence of something or someone alive, on the same level as they were but further north. It was faint, but it was something. As he took stock of what was going on around him, his companions were trying to break through. He saw Rayner smashing into the wall, with his axe blows either bouncing off or the wall healing itself as quickly as he left the marks.
“Argh!” Rayner roared in frustration as he threw his axe on the ground, creating a loud thud. “This wall is tough,” he shouted in frustration. When it was Jabari’s turn, he reached into his robes and pulled out several small metal sphere-like objects with red tops, turned the knobs on them, and stuck them into the wall.
“Everyone, please stand back several paces,” Jabari warned. As they turned the corner, they heard a massive explosion. Looking at the scene, they saw that it didn’t do much damage, and what damage it did was quickly being patched up. Tharos looked at Jabari for a moment. “I don’t have any more, I’m afraid. Seems we are trapped like rats.”
Cenric then looked at him. “What are going to do.” his voice in a panic.
Tharos considered his options. He didn’t know the layout of this place or what it was exactly, but staying idle wasn’t helping either. He had two choices: they could fight their way down to whatever was powering this place, destroy it, and with the power off, it might be easier to leave this place. Alternatively, he could head to the presence he felt was just north of them.
“Follow me, we are going to try to find another exit.”
“Are you sure that is a wise course of action?” Jabari asked. “We don’t know if there are other exits or what awaits us now.” Tharos turned his head to Jabari.
“Under normal circumstances, yes. However, we don’t have much choice but to roll the dice.”
“A fair assessment. But if we die down here, it’s your employer to take full responsibility.”
“If we die,” he corrected. “If we don’t, I will consider this a small misadventure and nothing more.”
“Save the goodbyes for when we are actually dead, you milk drinkers,” Rayner interjected, cutting him off.
“Yes, as Rayner so bluntly put it, we are not dead yet. Let’s sally forth,” they all began to rush down the corridors. Tharos kept himself focused on the presence he sensed. It felt similar to how the liquid metal men or that massive monster felt—cold and detached. The blistering headache wouldn’t go away as they got closer to that presence; instead, it seemed to increase in intensity.
I wonder if the presence of these creatures is causing these headaches, he pondered to himself. It seemed like his companions weren’t experiencing this as well. Perhaps these creatures had an effect on him due to his powers or his current state. Regardless, it was a splitting headache that made Tharos want to split his head open, maybe in some primitive way trying to release the pressure on his skull. However, he knew that only the treatment plan of savage barbarians, who knew nothing of the human body.
After several more minutes of running, avoiding the patrols, they came across what looked like some sort of door. Unlike the doors they found in this place that came from the ceiling, this door was diagonal and had layers to it. Tharos tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge. Behind it, he could sense something, maybe a few hundred feet beyond the door. Turning to Rayner, he asked for help.
“Could you please help with this?” Tharos requested.
Rayner gave a snort. “Oh, having some trouble? Don’t worry, I will show you how we wilder open doors, unlike you milk drinkers.” Tharos stepped aside as Rayner did a quick stretch and rubbed his hands together before gripping onto the door and opening it. The door creaked, and Tharos could see Rayner’s pale skin start to redden, his muscles tensing as the door was slowly being opened and propped open enough for them to pass through. They all stood there, almost in awe of Rayner’s strength. Rayner then looked at them all with a glare. “Stop gawking, I can’t hold this forever.” Taking this as a sign, they passed through with Rayner behind them, the door slamming shut.
They all stood across what looked like a long, almost circular room. Chairs were fixed in place on the floor, and in front of them were desks with buttons, levers, and other unfamiliar objects that Tharos had never seen before. A massive screen made of glass with flashing lights was in front of them. However, the most shocking thing was the presence Tharos sensed in the room with them, sitting on a chair in the centre of the room. A humanoid-like figure stood before them. They were tall and lean, wearing what looked like armour made of liquefied metal and pulsating flesh. They were almost seven feet tall, had no hair on their head, pale, almost snow-white skin, soulless black eyes, a flat nose and face, and pointed ears. While its face, from a distance, looked human, it was anything but. They looked too perfect, similar to elves. The figure got up from their chair, looked at them all, and cocked its head to the side like a curious dog, and started pressing a series of buttons on its wrist until its jet-black eyes met his, and then hostility started to rise. Where this creature before might have viewed them with indifference or random curiosity, it didn’t the second it saw Tharos, and then he heard a voice from the creature. However, it was talking to him in Zarbarian but a far older version of it as it pointed an armed clawed finger at him and spoke.
“You might have crashed my ship, primitives. However, you will never get what you came for. I have wiped the ship’s logs and set the ship to blow. This place will be your tomb,” the creature sneered. Out of its armour popped a long metallic staff that had sharp glaive-like blades on both ends, which sprang to life with lightning. It twirled in the air before the creature grabbed it with two hands. The creature then lunged and rushed at them with great speed, far quicker than its size and stature would suggest. Its armour now formed a bug-like helmet with a massive cursed chest jutting out around its unprotected head, with a flush of steam gushing out of its armour as the armour started to contract and harden around it. Tharos had no idea what this thing was or what it was talking about and didn’t have enough time to react or even ponder these questions. It was very clear that this thing was hostile, whether it was one of the sky people of myth and legends or just another one of their creations. He couldn’t say, but he knew one thing for certain: the next battle was upon them, and they needed to end it soon. If they didn’t, this place would become their tomb. Without even thinking, Tharos charged with Rayner and Cenric following behind him, shouting at the top of his lungs, “This looks like a worthy fight,” while Jabari grabbed his crossbow and took cover behind the desks. It was truly at that moment the battle started.
