Crimson Twilight: Dusk

Prologue: Awakening might

For a place meant to serve as a quiet resting place of the dead, there was no peace inside the tomb. It was to be expected, though. The tomb of the great Emperor Osiris of Morroc was one of the most visited places in the world.

The torches that lined its massive stone walls were always fresh, constantly replaced by the unseen hands of the strange things that occupied the tomb. Their lurid orange glow revealed the polished blocks of granite that made up the entirety of the room. The tomb measured over a hundred feet from its entrance, with each granite block painstakingly polished until it felt like marble when touched. The walls were covered with frescoes depicting the emperor vanquishing his foes; from invading armies from the cities of Geffen and Alberta to the horde of demons called out by the emperor's own brother. The ceiling itself was a massive fresco depicting Osiris wrestling the six-armed, serpentine queen of the horde; Osiris' final battle.

The sarcophagus was carved from a single block of marble, intricately engraved with all the symbols of imperial might. It was set in the middle of a large rectangular pool of water found at the center of the tomb and was connected to the rest of the chamber by a bridge. The pool's function still remained a mystery to the visitors of this tomb. The water in seemed to have no depth and it was always fresh, indicating that it flowed from somewhere. It was clean, even potable for anyone daring enough to drink from it but, perhaps, the strangest thing about the tomb lay in the sarcophagus.

The sarcophagus was not sealed.

Osiris' final resting place was opened from time to time. There was no dust on the sarcophagus and no spider built its home around it. It was easy to assume that grave robbers had despoiled the tomb as shown by the missing seal. That wasn't the case.

Lining the base of the walls of the tomb were more coffins. Smaller, less decorated ones that served as containers for the emperor's attendants. All of them were empty. Among the flickering shadows, one could hear the steady shuffling of things wandering the tomb. The smell of half-rotten flesh mixed with the pungent scent of preservative spices as it permeated the tomb. The animate bodies of the emperor's servants, many of them mummified, guarded the tomb from all intruders. They also maintained the place, as if still serving their long dead master. They replaced the torches and they cleaned up the resulting bloody mess when they caught someone inside the tomb. Besides the horrific dead servants there were more monstrous things that resided in the tomb.

First were the ises, the same serpentine demons that Osiris repelled during his lifetime. Named after the empress that forced its kind into submission, an isis stretched at least twice as long as a man was tall from its humanoid head to the tip of its serpentine tail. It was vaguely human from its waist and above, resembling a powerfully built woman with short, red hair. Its features were more reptilian than a normal woman's though. It stared through unblinking, serpentine eyes and its mouth contained hollow, needle-like fangs rather than human teeth. Below its waist, it was more demon than anything else. Instead of legs, an isis possessed the powerful tail of an enormous snake. Covered with bright red scales, it bulged with muscle and tell-tale strength. The ises never left the tomb. They guarded it with a savage fury, killing intruders by powerful blows from their arms, their savage bites or by crushing them around their coils.

Then there were the matyrs, small black hounds that scurried about the tomb. They devoured the corpses of those who were killed by the guardians. They were not above attacking living people either. One matyr posed little threat. It bit savagely and with incredible speed but it lacked the strength to bring down humans by itself. A pack, however, could make a quick meal of the same human. Like the ises, they never left the tomb.

The guardians served to repel intruders but their presence also attracted people to the tomb. Hundreds of adventurers came to the largest of the pyramids of Morroc in hopes of testing their might against these things and to pry loose what treasure was left in the tomb. Because of this, the tomb was always a battlefield. Swords glinted against the torchlight and spells crackled through the stale air. The tomb would be littered with the bodies of guardian and adventurer alike, grisly meals for the matyrs to pick at later. When a band was strong enough to push back the guardians, they would soon realize why the sarcophagus had no seal.

The body of Osiris himself, wrapped in the tattered remains of the most precious cloth of his empire, would rise from his sarcophagus and do battle with those who would disturb him. In life, he had trained his body to near martial perfection. a thousand years of death later and his body still retained much of his supernatural speed and power. A blow from Osiris' fist cracked skulls like eggs and broke steel armor like glass. A lone, armed knight, wizard or priest would die in a matter of seconds against it.

But such was Osiris' fame that no adventurer entered his tomb alone. Through numbers, the guardians would be beaten back and even Osiris' body would be destroyed after a great amount of effort. The first time it happened, the elated adventurers who defeated him were soon disappointed upon realizing that no treasure lay in the tomb at all. Their disappointment changed to horror when, after a few days, all the guardians that had been killed were back in place and Osiris rested in his tomb once more, ready to rise and attack at any time. That discovery would have been enough to deter those who followed after them but, while the lure of treasure was no longer there, people still kept coming.

People came to test their strength. To defeat a mummy, an isis or a pack of matyrs was a display of power and to defeat Osiris' mummy itself was even more so. When treasure was not possible, fame made do.

It was for this very reason that Felthan's group waited in the tomb of Osiris. They had pushed back the guardians with a combination of blades, arrows and the occasional spell.

"That mummy sure is taking his time, Felthan! I'm getting sick of wasting my arrows on these ises!"

Felthan removed the tomb's dust from his priestly robes and turned to face his guild mate. "He will come for sure, Arnatel." He answered. "Osiris is always on time for a trashing."

Felthan was the guild master of the famous Hunters of Dead. A powerful priest, he was reputed to have defeated Osiris on numerous occasions. Today would be his fifth time to defeat the great mummy.

Felthan's companions, Arnatel the hunter, Couilpas the knight and Carnath the assassin, often accompanied him each time he ventured into the pyramids. While they did not engage Osiris directly, they made sure that it didn't close in on the priest while he was casting his famous Magnus Exorcismus.

Arnatel, dressed in well-worn leathers and armed with a composite bow as long as he was tall, would pepper the mummy with silver-tipped arrows since silver channeled positive energy, the bane of all undead. He was a veteran hunter, bald, with lines marking his face with signs of age.

Couilpas was Arnatel's younger brother, still in his prime and bearing the steel trappings of knighthood. Also bald, Couilpas would engage Osiris in a head on duel, not to beat it but to keep it distracted while his companions dealt the finishing blows.

Carnath, their guildmate was the representative of the Moroccan Order of Assassins. Dressed in the dark purple cloths of the order and carrying a pair of katar, he was to provide Couilpas with assistance by opportunistic strikes. Most of his features were hidden by the hood he preferred to keep on whether indoors or outdoors.

"Heeeeey! Maybe one of you guys can help me!"

Felthan turned to see who called to them. To the his surprise, a swordsman was running towards their group. Several ises were slithering after him.

Wordlessly, Arnatel and Couilpas swung into action. It was already an easy part of their routine to handle a few of the slithering demons. Arrows flew quickly, the draft of their passage causing the torches within the chamber to flicker. The torchlight also caught the glint of a two-handed sword descending on a female neck, severing a red-haired head from the rest of the demon's body. Moments later, the isis were all dead. Arrows stuck out of two of the carcasses while a third was headless. Couilpas cleaned his sword while Arnatel turned to face the swordsman.

"Swordman, what the hell are you doing in this place?" The hunter asked. "Don't you know where you are?"

The swordsman, a blond, young man probably barely out of his teens, smiled sheepishly while the hunter berated him. His bright, blue eyes had the look of someone who rarely took anything seriously and, to Felthan's annoyance, they did not look cowed at seeing how powerful the person he was talking to was. "Hey, I can handle it!" He answered. "I just want to see Osiris in action!"

Couilpas snorted and sheathed his two-handed sword. He hated observers. They always screamed like children when Osiris made an appearance and then, when Osiris was defeated, they would fawn over him and babble incoherently about how great he was. "Well go home, kid!" He growled. "You won't see him in action as we're going to finish him off as soon as he appears!"

Carnath tapped his foot impatiently as two more of his guild's priests arrived. "Great." He muttered. "Here come reinforcements! Osiris won't last long enough to make things enjoyable!"

The swordsman eyed the assassin and grinned. White teeth seemed to flash in the shadows of the tomb. "You make it sound as if you were going to roll over him easily." He told the man. "Don't be so cocky, assassin. I hear Osiris is going be a bit different this time."

Felthan turned away from the swordsman. He had had it with the kid's smug attitude. What was wrong with swordsmen these days? They acted as if they could match a knight already! "Stop wasting our time, kid." He told the boy. "Leave Osiris to the professionals. I suggest you stick to things you can handle. Thief bugs, for example, or porings if they're too much for you."

Arnatel guffawed at Felthan's remark. That was an insult. Thief bugs were hardly more than overgrown cockroaches that scurried around the sewers near the city of Izlude and other places where garbage was plenty. They were not hostile but they inflicted painful bites when disturbed. Porings were nothing more than sentient blobs of pink vegetation. Children attacked them for practice as they advanced to more difficult enemies as part of their training.

"That's right, kid!" The hunter laughed "Maybe Couilpas can assist you if you're still having trouble!"

The swordsman shrugged his shoulders and grinned. It was as if the insults just bounced right off him. "Maybe." He replied. "But I'll stick around nonetheless, hunter. Unless you're afraid of failing in front of a kid like me, that is. Maybe I could help you with something easier then!"

Arnatel's eyes narrowed in annoyance. Nothing annoyed him more than a kid who thought he was something. He had half a mind to just beat the hells out of the kid right now. "Big talk, swordsman." He lowered his voice with the threat. "Maybe you'd like to say more to me inside the arena."

The swordsman sat on the floor and stared at the darkened tomb of Osiris. Satisfied that the swordsman had been properly cowed, Felthan readied his Magnus Exorcismus. It was only a matter of time now.

There was a sudden, momentary silence inside the tomb as Osiris rose from his resting place. At the same time, the ceremonial mummies that served as his personal bodyguards, as well as even more ises appeared inside the tomb. The punget smell of old, preservative spices wafted towards the group as the undead advanced.

Wrinkling his nose from the smell, Arnatel raised his bow while Couilpas and Carnath moved in to engage Osiris. Felthan and the two other priests began to chant the necessary prayers for a Magnus Exorcismus. It was a well-tested plan, once the multiple Magnus Exorcismuses hit, it would be all over for Osiris.

The knight and the assassin began slicing their way through the mob of enemies. Arnatel peppered Osiris with arrows as the mummy got caught in his ankle snare. Rising above the hisses and groans was the steady chanting of prayers from the trio of priests. Suddenly, brilliant, white light flared from the ground underneath the mummy. Several explosions occurred, causing the walls the shake and momentarily blinding those within them. Moments later, the great mummy and all of his minions were dead once again.

"Well, that was pretty routinely." Couilpas looked smugly at the seated swordsman as he stood over the fallen mummy and kicked the crown off. Osiris was getting too easy. It wasn't surprising as the Hunters of Dead were the best at defeating the undead and their ilk. "Let's go, Felthan. This thing won't rise again for at least a week."

The members of the guild started to walk away. Arnatel smirked at the swordsman who had remained grinning in amusement throughout the battle. "Different alright." He told the boy. "He's more pathetic than ever."

The swordsman pointed at the fallen mummy. "What are you talking about, hunter?" He replied. "This fight's just beginning!"

The Hunters of Dead turned around just in time to watch Osiris rise.

It was an impossible sight; it was almost as if Osiris had shrugged off all the attacks they had made earlier. Powerful muscles rippled against the now-tightly wrapped bandages of his form. Red eyes flared from his sockets while his fists clenched and unclenched. What further unnerved the guild was when the great mummy spoke.

"Who…dares?"

The voice was regal, deep and powerful. It carried an air of authority, as if the voice alone expected that it was to be obeyed. The walls of the chamber trembled. It had been more than a thousand years since the voice of Morroc's greatest emperor resounded within them.

Couilpas tried to draw his sword but Osiris noticed him and, in a split second, the mummy was standing before the knight, fists ready to strike. Couilpas raised his sword to defend himself but Osiris was moving too fast. Compared to the mummy, the knight seemed to be standing still. A bandaged fist smashed past Couilpas's guard and straight into his face. The knight flew several feet backward at the force of the blow. His neck cracked audibly as it was thrown back by the force.

Carnath dashed at Osiris with his katars raised. Osiris spun about and raised his foot. A bandaged heel struck Carnath's cheek and spun his head about. Moments later he was flying in the same direction as Couilpas's. The assassin crashed to the stone floor. The look of surprise never leaving his face.

Arnatel turned to face the swordsman incredulously. "What in blazes is going on here?" He demanded. "Osiris shouldn't be that powerful! We've already calculated his fighting capabilities and-!"

The swordsman smiled wickedly. "-and what? Thought you could beat him?" He finished the hunter's words. "Right! Listen to me, hunter. Osiris is among the few immortals in Rune-Midgard that I can actually respect. It would take more than some pathetic guild to take him out!"

Arnatel stared at the swordsman. All of a sudden, this particular swordsman seemed too familiar. The shadows seemed to dance around the swordsman. Perhaps it was because of the flickering torchlight but something in his smile made it appear as if the darkness danced just for him. 'Geffen…something about Geffen-' He thought.

All of a sudden, Osiris turned towards Arnatel. He had just snapped the necks of the other two priests. Couilpas and Carnath were not moving. Arnatel knew instinctively that they were both dead.

"Keep shooting it, Arnatel!" Felthan shouted and then frantically chanted a Magnus Exorcismus while the panicked hunter unleashed a stream of arrows at Osiris. The arrows flew everywhere but none of them found its mark. The spell was barely halfway ready when Osiris closed in on Arnatel. The hunter cried out in panic and fell to his knees. The mummy loomed over him menacingly, his fists rising for a killing strike.

'Oh, God, no! What the hells is happening? Arnatel shouldn't be letting Osiris that close! Why did Carnath and Couilpas get themselves killed?' Felthan's mind raced as he watched as the mummy smashed his fists against Arnatel's skull. Shattered bits of bone flew from the strike and the hunter fell to the stone floor, dead. Half of his skull was missing. The spell was almost ready when Osiris turned to face the priest. 'You're too late, Osiris! Almost ready-!'

Felthan prepared to unleash the Magnus Exorcismus. Only, Osiris wasn't in front of him anymore.

Felthan slowly turned to see what was behind him.

Red eyes glowed in the shadowy illumination of Osiris' tomb. A regal-looking mummy towered before a faltering priest. Around them were the bodies of a hunter, a knight, an assassin and two priests. In the background, a swordsman looked on. Osiris grabbed Felthan by the robes and stared into the priest's fearful eyes.

"I don't know what's going on." The mummy spoke. "It's been nearly a millennium since I've known what's going on...but let me send you to the next world with this message, priest. Perhaps your spirit will relay it to your kind. Magnus Exorcismus is a powerful spell, but remember this. Count on me to destroy you before you can ever hope to finish it in my presence."

Osiris' fist came up with such force that it snapped the priest's head clean off the body. Felthan's decapitated form crashed to the ground while Osiris turned to face the sound of someone clapping.

"Good job!" The swordsman spoke. "It looks like you're nice and awake now, Osiris!" His nose wrinkling in disgust, the swordsman stood up and stepped over the hunter's body. "Looks like we have a lot to discuss, pal, our awakening is the start of something big in Rune-Midgard. I'd better fill you in before we start."

Osiris stared at his fists and then at the impudent swordsman. Awakening? He did feel as if he had come from a long sleep. But what did this awakening entail? "Untold ages of sleeping does not help my memory." He answered. "Yet you are a familiar sight, being. You're not a swordsman that's for sure."

The swordsman smiled and bowed mockingly. His appearance suddenly became shadowy and his eyes turned into pools of darkness. While he still vaguely resembled a swordsman, it was now all too obvious that he wasn't. "Introductions of course." He replied. "Still, I had thought that you'd remember me at least, Osiris. I certainly remember you."

Osiris' eyes narrowed. He was starting to remember. "You are-"

The swordsman's smiled widened. "The doppelganger at your service but enough about this, Osiris." He answered. "I suggest we start moving. We're merely a part of this whole thing you know? And believe you me, it's going to be something Rune-Midgard has never seen before!"

It would have been a strange sight. The great emperor Osiris was walking behind a lowly swordsman inside the pyramids but there was no one to witness it. The doppelganger had killed anyone who could have. The citizens of Morroc would eventually discover the bodies, or what was left of them once the matyrs were finished. By then, the two immortals would be gone. The monsters of Rune-Midgard began to stir as the skies darkened above the city of Morroc. In a rare moment in its climate, a storm was coming. Indeed, for the whole of Rune-Midgard.