Fated To The Past Alpha

It was night time in the lands of Terra, and with no moon to give light to the countryside, things were pitch black. A lone torch flickered deep within a chasm, a sign that at least one person was still awake at this hour. The cloaked figure stood before the entrance of an old catacomb. It had been uncovered recently when an earthquake had shaken the ground, causing the earth to split into two. The trip down into the far reaches of the earth had been a long one, taking the person several hours. Luckily there were several ledges on which to rest, and the person had come prepared for a long journey.

Taking a deep breath of air in, the figure lowered the hood of their cloak to reveal a male with shoulder-length blond locks, and deep blue eyes. He seemed to be a young adult, likely no older than twenty. His skin was free of blemishes, and he had an air of curiosity around him. It was obvious in his expressions, that the catacombs interested him a great deal. The man held the torch out in front of him, as he attempted to read the runes littering the ancient door frame above his head. His lips thinned as he tried to make sense of the strange letters, but ultimately he failed in doing so. “Must be in the old tongue of the Gods,” he said to himself, his smooth voice concealing the annoyance within. “But there is no doubt about it. This is the place I need to go if the rumours are true.”

Taking a few paces forward, the man frowned deeply, noticing the door to the catacombs was open. He hoped that this was not a bad omen and that any dangers within had not found their way outside just yet. The rumour that had led him to this area, had been one of an ancient spirit of an old God. One that had the power to raise up corpses as an undying army. Apparently, this God had been trapped away deep underground by the Goddess of Death: though one could never really know the truth without asking the Goddess directly, and that was no easy task.

Cautiously, the man moved through the doorway and down several flights of stone steps. At the end of the stairs, he was met with long, thin corridors. Several of them branched out into larger rooms: full of old tombs. Despite the fact that dust littered the rooms from the floor up: it smelled quite musty and damp. There was no sound coming from any of the rooms here, and so the man continued on down the long hallway and towards another flight of stairs. He knew that the creature he sought would be further down, where there would be more corpses for it to raise and control.

The sound of movement coming from further down in the catacombs caused the man to pause at the end of the stairs. He listened cautiously before slowly poking his head around the corner. A sigh of relief escaped his lips when he noticed that the sound was coming from a couple of rats that had made their nest here. They scurried about, finding offence to the light from the torches that littered the catacombs. The relief the man had felt, seemed to wash away within moments as the realisation hit him like a mound of bricks. “But who lit the torches?” He quietly asked himself. He carefully stepped further into the small room, unsheathing his sword slowly. The metallic sound echoing throughout the room. It wasn't as if the dead truly needed the light in order to see the path ahead of them, did they?

His blue eyes scanned the area around him, but he saw no sign of any undead creatures. However, his eyes did notice footprints in the dust. He had not noticed them before and realised that they had entered the room from another path than the one he had taken. Frowning deeply, the man's gaze followed the path the prints took. Whoever it was, seemed to know the path in which they needed to take. There seemed to be no hesitation in their movements throughout the catacombs. Yet there was only one set of prints. A clear sign that they were alone.

Steeling himself, the man took a deep breath in, then began to follow the direction the footprints lead-in. He wasn't so sure the person wasn't the God, but he also wasn't sure they were not in fact mortal. Treasure hunters would often explore such strange places in hopes of finding riches, and he hoped that this was the case here. He himself had no interest in such trinkets. His only concern was the dangerous walking dead rumoured to be here.

The path he followed led further through the tunnels, and into the mountain. He wondered why someone would build a burial chamber so far down in the earth like this, but then there were many strange things about the days before the War of the Gods. Thinking about it too much unsettled the man, and so he shook his head of such thoughts and continued on his way.

As he moved slowly through the narrow tunnels, the man noticed that ahead of him, there laid a barricade of metal bars that blocked his way further in. He wrinkled his nose in irritation. He hoped he had not missed a turning, as turning around in such tight spaces was difficult. He looked back down to the floor for any sign of where the footprints led, and he became puzzled. They continued on as if the bars had not hampered the person at all. Taking a closer look around him, he knew there had to be a switch or similar that would allow him access into the room ahead. Even a God could not pass through metal, surely? He took a step backwards and regarded the area before himself for anything that seemed out of place. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for one small rock that stuck out of the wall. It was hardly noticeable to anyone not actively looking for it.

“Ah-ha,” he said smirking to himself, “I knew there had to be something to open you up.” He reached a hand up, pushing the bit of loose rock inwards. With a resounding click, the bars ahead of him slowly began to sink into the floor. Keeping his sword ahead of himself, the person carefully moved out into the more spacious room. He was relieved to see that this room was equally as empty as the rest of the catacombs. However, there was most certainly something different about this area. What it was, the man could not quite tell, but the air here felt constricting. More torches littered the room, and the footprints seemed to pace the room. It was as if the person suddenly was unsure which direction they needed to go. It was of little wonder, as there were many more paths that led out of this room than there had been before.

The man wondered if continuing to follow this person was a good idea, and he hesitated for a moment. The sound of scraping coming from one of the paths alerted him to someone, or something, approaching him. He turned around slowly, sword raised in a position to attack. With bated breath, the man waited for what seemed like an eternity for whatever creature was heading in his direction. What he saw made the man's face pale. He had not expected the rumours to be true, after all, he had not seen any sign of anything abnormal here, until now.

The skeleton at first did not seem to notice the man, which was no surprise as it lacked any eyes to speak of. Only hollow dents showed any sign of where two eyes had once been. The creature continued on through the room before it paused in its steps. Slowly its head cocked to the side as if it seemed confused by something or other. The man's eyes widened as he took a step back from the bony creature. It seemed to be looking right AT him! Impossible, but there was no denying the snarl now emitting from it. The thought that perhaps the skeleton could see him, sent shivers down the man's spine. Coupled with the grotesque sound the creature was making, it made the man want to run. However, he stood his ground. Sword held ready for the inevitable attack. As if sensing the human man's fear, the creature leapt forward with surprising speed. It had been slow, and almost dumb upon arrival, but now it almost matched the man in speed and knowledge of the battle. It held an old sword that had obviously seen better days, yet it was still strong enough to parry the blows set by the human.

With a loud ringing sound echoing the room, the man parried the skeleton's own blow. He hoped there was a chance that he could kill the creature if such monsters could truly be killed. His attacks to the torso did nothing to slow the dead beast, and only angered it further. Instead, the man attempted to disarm the skeleton. With a swift swing of his sword, the arm of the skeleton was removed from the rest of its haggard body. The creature stumbled about, trying to fend off the attacker and reach its sword arm. However, the man gave the creature no such chance to re-attach its arm, if that was indeed possible. Its head rolled to the floor as the man's sword decapitated it with another swift blow. The skeleton then crumbled to the floor in a pile of dust.

A huge sigh of relief escaped the man's lips. He was glad that it was indeed possible to re-kill something already dead. Though this did not settle his fear much at all. If the only way to kill the undead was the removal of the head, then it would take a lot of effort if there were more of the creatures to fight than just the one. Besides, if this God could truly bring the dead back to fight, then newer bodies might not be as easy to take down, and may even be re-animated more than once. At the thought of an army of these creatures entered his mind, the man thinned his lips and once more took up the task of finding out which direction the other person had taken. If they were not skilled fighters, then they could be in danger of joining the undead. He just hoped that this was not already the case and that he could get them to agree to work with him. The person seemed to have travelled down several paths before settling on one in particular. Or at least they had not backtracked through the tunnel. This either meant it was the correct path, or they had died down there.

The sound of more scraping coming from another tunnel behind him, caused the man to glance back. This time he could tell there was more than just one creature coming this way. The man did not wish to find out just how many there were. Swiftly he took to the tunnel. It was not as tight as the others and he felt relieved that he could defend himself here if he suddenly found himself facing another enemy. It did not take him long to reach the other end of the tunnel, and he found himself in front of several piles of dusty old bones. Evidence that the person had combat skill, and had already dispatched several skeletons here. The man was glad that they were not so vulnerable as he feared, but he also worried that this person might be as dangerous as any dead creature. Still, he was not to be deterred by possibilities.

The sound of steel hitting steel echoed throughout the catacombs as the man took in the sight before him. It jerked his attention towards one of the tunnels. The sound seemed to be coming from that direction. He was sure of it. Though it was hard to tell just how far away the sound had come from. The walls bounced sound around like the wind blew a leaf in the gardens. Heading through the tunnel, the man moved cautiously, but with swift steps. It did not take him long before he reached another spacious room. He blinked several times as he took in the sight before him. He had expected to see a burly man with rugged good looks, or maybe some kind of bandit, but instead he saw a very lithe Enerawyn woman. Or an elf, to most humans.