We were soaked wet when we finally reached the inn, never before had I been this wet before, not even when taking a bath. I, Ceras, Grim, and Jim put our horses in the stall, and we quickly went inside. Grim was kind enough to pay for our rooms and food.
Man it felt good to finally be in a warm room and fire. We ate, enjoyed our warm drinks, and calmed our nerves… because the next day, our mission to find the ancient sword would continue.
I looked around the warm inn, it was empty, and not a single soul was in the inn… until I looked into the corner. There, at a small corner table, as far away from the fire as possible, sat a man. Black rags covering his entire body and shadowing his face. Jim passed by him to get some more Ale for us, and on the way back, his face looked disgusted.
"What is it?" Ceras asked, as she took a small sip at her Ale.
"That man… he reeked of a disgusting smell. The worse I have ever smelled in my entire life. But it feels as if I have smelled it before somewhere…"
"Like smelly feet and rotten cheese?" I asked.
"No. Worse…"
We started whispering to each other about him. Ceras wanted to go to the man, asking if he needed help, company, or comfort near the fire. You could see she really felt bad for him. She was just about to go ask him if he wanted to sit next by the fire with her and us when Grim, full on drunk, said with his loud, booming voice: "I want to hear a story! You over there, get over here and tell me a story!"
Ceras angry looked at Grim, but he didn't notice. The man stood up and walked towards us, almost tripping many times. Ceras wanted to slap Grim immediately and apologize to the stranger, but just as she was about to stand up, I grabbed her shoulder. Grim pays for our rooms and our food, and we wouldn't want to piss him off. That and when he's drunk, he gets REALLY drunk… and even more stubborn.
When the stranger finally reached our table, we all could smell him, and Jim was right… it was the most horrifying smell I have ever smelled, I say "horrifying", because the mere smell made me… I don't know, it was like some sort of dark aura surrounded him.
Even so, Ceras, as kind as she always is, ignored the smell and allowed him to sit beside her. And when he began to speak… his voice was so rusty, and sounded as if it was a desert in his throat.
"So you want to hear a story, aye? Well, I'll tell you one you will hardly ever forget. You all suck at pretty much everything, right? Now don't hit me! All I'm saying is that you could never find a real talent, so you turned yourself to fighting, aye? Mercenaries… fighters for hire, you look as if you're worth every gold coin I bet. Anyway, my family was poor, like, REALLY poor. We had barely enough to even eat for the day. My son, now he was a wild one, had a heart and wish to become a hero, venture deep into tombs, and save girls and women from bandit camps, a truly kind man, he even reminds me a little bit of you right there, if he was still with us I bet you would look exactly the same."
Then all of a sudden, his way of speaking changed into a much… much, darker tone.
"There is no reason for Mercenaries of your caliber to be here, except if you were here to explore the only tomb close to this god forsaken place… The Ebonics Tomb, the last resting place for Nexro 'The Freak', 'The King Slayer', 'The Baron of Hatred', 'The King of Lies', the most infamous 'Hero' who has ever walked these lands before. The man who killed king Alteon the Good, and betrayed his empress, Gravelyn, and ruled for years with an iron fist these lands with his own undead army. Until he was defeated by the most legendary Paladin who ever lived… Artix von Krieger. But no matter how much of a tyrant Nexro was during his VERY long period of time ruling, Artix did not have the heart to kill his former friend, so he sealed him away, far, FAR away from civilization. Where he, with the help of Paladins, builders, even the Pactonal Knights, King Alteons' former knights, build the biggest tomb that has ever been build in written history. There, they buried Nexro, and all of his loyalists that obeyed his every whim. It is so dangerous; it is rumored to dwarf the tombs of Grimskull, who was known to have THE most dangerous dungeons ever, in comparison to danger. And that it dwarfed The Forgotten Tombs of Vokun, in comparison to size. But… rumor has it that Nexro had tricked Death itself when he was dead, and made the tombs to his new fortress... So anyway, my son had decided that no matter how much we tried, we would not be able to get more money than we already had, which wasn't much. So he decided to take a more… risky option, he decided to train to become a knight.
But no Knight Academies accepted him in, I mean, why would they? Why would they accept a pesky son to a poor farmer, who didn't even posses a sword?
So he did the worst decision I have ever seen a person do… he decided that, ON HIS OWN, venture into the depths of the Ebonics Tomb, just to prove himself to everyone that he was more than prepared to become a knight. The last time I saw him was just outside the tomb. I begged him, on my knees that this is not what I and his mother wanted… but before he could even answer, the little door, the only entry to the Ebonics Tomb, opened on its own, and inside… I saw two, red eyes. No pupils just pure, red, glowing, circles! It grabbed my son with its claws, and then quickly closed the entrance to the tombs. I just stood there, with no words! I just stood there, which seemed like an eternity, when the silence was broken by the most sinister laugh I have ever heard in my entire life. It was so frightening, I ran all the way back to my house and my wife… and then I cried for days…"
We all just sat there, speechless, even Grim sat without saying a word, until Cerasbegan to sob.
"I-I had no idea you had it so tough." She cried and hugged the man, which he proceeded with by clapping her on her left shoulder.
"Don't worry, miss, I'll get over it one day… Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go back to my wife, she's probably wondering where I am right now." And with those words, he left the inn.
But I managed to get one last look at his face as he went by the fire, and looked towards us…
Half his face was torn apart; looking at his eye sockets was like looking into a well with no end. His skin was looking as if it was just about to fall off, and his hair was just on his right side of his head… black as the night, it looked as if he was the manifestation of a plague itself. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, and when I opened them again, he was gone.
"Guys, hope you're having all your things ready, tomorrow we're heading straight home!"
The End
