His feet slapped against the cold stone floors with purpose, each step echoing off the dank walls. Erie light seeped inward and cast disfigured shadows across the grim façade. Voices emanated from the walls, saying nothing in particular, incessant enough to make a lesser man insane. At one point long past, Dubric imagined that he must have been scared. No more, now he was just tired. It had been two thousand years since Dubric had journeyed to the Underworld looking for excitement and adventure; anything to break the monotony of life. And while he had not found what he was looking for, he had found enough to sustain him. He had found enough to give his life meaning and stave off the constant thought about the End—he didn't think on it as much as he once had. He had become the Assassin of Death. Anyone or anything that threatened Death's absolute control was either killed outright or hauled, kicking and screaming, back to the Underworld.
The massive stone doors that guarded the entry to the throne room swung open discordantly at Dubric's approach. The pungent and stagnate smell of Death washed over him, raising the hackles on the back of his neck. He paid little regard to the noble demons, who, in Dubric's opinion, spent far too much time mulling about the court of Death and nowhere near enough time tending their respective dukedoms. Approaching the stone dais, Dubric gave the requisite half bow and glanced up. The gaunt albeit beautiful face of death stared down at him atop its skeletal body sprawled across the stone throne. Shadows with a mind of their own played across the room, writhing and squirming, simulating near life then disappearing. The courtly demons that stood about the room, dressed in their gruesome best, shifted uneasily. Who was truly comfortable in the presence of Death? Even Dubric's heart raced, though he no longer feared Death as he once had.
"I have a new task for you," the lyrically rasping voice of Death declared. "The Goddess of Water has been awakened from a millennia long slumber; she will no doubt seek revenge. You must stop her. The balance of the Aboveworld must be preserved." The ghoulish skeleton awaited acknowledgement of its command.
With another bow, Dubric turned on his heel and strode across the room.
"And Dubric," the skeletal one droned, "be careful."
Pausing, Dubric recognized Death's forewarning, as was his due, and continued on. Dubric himself was excited for the first time in over sixty years. The last time he had been above ground was to kill some pesky German human who had nearly managed to take over all of Europe. The emasculated mortal had proved hardly a challenge. With any luck this Goddess would prove more so.