Lemas woke up with a start and looked around him. His vision was blurred but things were beginning to become clear. He was lying on a cold stone floor covered in straw and tools. In the corner he could see a rusted old furnace and an anvil. The walls were made of a deep red earth... he appeared to be underground. He pulled himself up slowly and staggered over to a small wooden stool. He sat down and tried to think about what had happened, where he was, but he found he could not remember a thing. He could remember pieces of information about himself however, he knew he was a warlock... he knew how to fight and how to shoot but he could not remember where he had learnt or any details of his life. He knew there was no point in sitting there, it would accomplish nothing. He stood up and reached his hand towards the wall attempting to use his magic, one of the sword's that littered the walls came loose from it's holding and flew towards him, catching it he examined it. The sword although slightly rusted still seemed to have its strength. The blade was clearly Iron as it was rusted, as was the hilt. He could make out some runes on the blade.
The runes were Elfish and read "Justice" in Elvlish "Tiranoe". "Tiranoe" he smiled then stepped back and dropped the sword suddenly out of shock. At the sound of it's name the rust had been absorbed into the sword and it was left now... gleaming as if new. Lemas stepped forward cautiously and picked up the sword, the hilt was strangely warm and tingled in his hand. He stepped over to the door and tried it, but it was shut fast. Grunting he stepped back and drove his foot through the rotten wood... he kicked the wooden door to pieces.
He stepped out the shattered door and looked around him, he realised he was in a large earth corridor. There was only one direction he could go so he headed straight on down the corridor, the walls were littered with carvings, deep carvings of animals and strange creatures never before seen to him save in a few books of lore. The carvings had been well worn out however at this stage and deep as they were, most parts of them could not be seen among the crumbling earth. Soon he came to a crossroads, deciding which way to turn proved hard for him but he decided to go with his eyes and chose the way that seemed less dark, and less dangerous.
Following the path he came to an opening and stepped through it found himself in a large hall. The hall seemed to be a colloseme. He was in a large open area with a sanded floor, all around him were large walls, and doors placed in random spots on the walls were covered with portcullises, presumable to keep something out... but obviously to let it in at a select time. Above the walls were large stands with many layers of what you could only call primitive seats, carved from stone. A large wooden area in the centre of the seats could be seen which was ver y well made and excellently preserved whereas the rock had been eroded and chipped away by time, this wooden area was obviously meant for royalty and carved into the wood was the phrase "Tirno, mar alath", Long Live the King in Elvish.
Lemas thought to himself and eventually came to the conclusion that this was once home to a race of dark elves, the Dark Elves unlike their cousins were not friendly creatures, they had use for Coliseums and other such horrific "sports" and they were also good smiths unlike Elves who refused to have anything to do with the metal of the Dwarves. This would explain for the sword Lemas had found earlier... obviously enchanted with some of the Elvish Dark Magic famous in the old scrolls, which was why it had magically restored it's self. Now the Justice mark became clear to him, the Dark Elves had been expelled from the Elvish race and had sought Justice to those who had expelled them, this sword was clearly meant to fight his kind in the Great War... thankfully it had never got it's chance. Lemas sat down and rested himself, thinking about all he had seen.
The runes were Elfish and read "Justice" in Elvlish "Tiranoe". "Tiranoe" he smiled then stepped back and dropped the sword suddenly out of shock. At the sound of it's name the rust had been absorbed into the sword and it was left now... gleaming as if new. Lemas stepped forward cautiously and picked up the sword, the hilt was strangely warm and tingled in his hand. He stepped over to the door and tried it, but it was shut fast. Grunting he stepped back and drove his foot through the rotten wood... he kicked the wooden door to pieces.
He stepped out the shattered door and looked around him, he realised he was in a large earth corridor. There was only one direction he could go so he headed straight on down the corridor, the walls were littered with carvings, deep carvings of animals and strange creatures never before seen to him save in a few books of lore. The carvings had been well worn out however at this stage and deep as they were, most parts of them could not be seen among the crumbling earth. Soon he came to a crossroads, deciding which way to turn proved hard for him but he decided to go with his eyes and chose the way that seemed less dark, and less dangerous.
Following the path he came to an opening and stepped through it found himself in a large hall. The hall seemed to be a colloseme. He was in a large open area with a sanded floor, all around him were large walls, and doors placed in random spots on the walls were covered with portcullises, presumable to keep something out... but obviously to let it in at a select time. Above the walls were large stands with many layers of what you could only call primitive seats, carved from stone. A large wooden area in the centre of the seats could be seen which was ver y well made and excellently preserved whereas the rock had been eroded and chipped away by time, this wooden area was obviously meant for royalty and carved into the wood was the phrase "Tirno, mar alath", Long Live the King in Elvish.
Lemas thought to himself and eventually came to the conclusion that this was once home to a race of dark elves, the Dark Elves unlike their cousins were not friendly creatures, they had use for Coliseums and other such horrific "sports" and they were also good smiths unlike Elves who refused to have anything to do with the metal of the Dwarves. This would explain for the sword Lemas had found earlier... obviously enchanted with some of the Elvish Dark Magic famous in the old scrolls, which was why it had magically restored it's self. Now the Justice mark became clear to him, the Dark Elves had been expelled from the Elvish race and had sought Justice to those who had expelled them, this sword was clearly meant to fight his kind in the Great War... thankfully it had never got it's chance. Lemas sat down and rested himself, thinking about all he had seen.