Prelude To Darkness
Posted: Tue Mar 19, 2013 10:10 pm
Prelude to darkness:
The crypt was dark, cold and oppressively void of fresh air. The stench of decay long yielded to the fetid balm of ancient dust. Two figures struggle to make their way through the cavernous expanse of entombed remains. A small lantern bobbed and weaved with each wary step taken. The squeaking of it’s handle, whispered prayers and curses the only sounds that stir the ink of the surrounding gloom. The lantern, at long-last finds a place upon a large sarcophagus. The grey marble from which it was carved seems to absorb the light as soapstone takes up water. A voice parts the darkness. “Here it is boy, I told you I would find it!” Another voice, younger and more shrill responds “True to your word master, you have.” Parchment is produced from within a leather pack, a quill and ink are quickly placed beside it on a nearby sepulcher. The youngest of the two men unburdens a large sack from his shoulder and places it on the ground with a resounding clank of metal. “The chisel and hammer boy, quickly now”, the older man gestures excitedly as the boy hurriedly opens the sack and rifles through it’s contents. Soon the boy finds the tools and they are immediately taken by the old man who sets to work as fast as the limits of the faint light from the lantern will allow. Three strikes ring loud, assaulting the solemn hush within the cave of tombs. Small chunks of stone fall to the floor as the old man smiles wide, he can only imagine what treasure lay at the end of his labors. The boy looks on with an impish grin, wringing his hands in eager anticipation.
Suddenly a frigid draft plunges through the caverns, enveloping the two men in shrouds of numbing cold. The light of the lantern goes dim, then flares in a brilliant blue, bathing everything in a soft, sapphire glow. A dark figure with eyes red as hot coals steps forward from amongst a line of vaults and speaks. “What you seek is no longer here. It was taken by one such as yourself. Go now or forfeit your life!” The words splinter the air like cold iron as the old man steps in front of the boy, shielding him from the specter’s wrath. “Please M’lord, we do not come as thieves. I am a scribe and historian, this boy is my apprentice. I have come only to see if legends of a gem of shadow are true. I wish only to sketch it’s likeness and write of it’s existence. I would not take such a treasure, nor divulge it’s location. Only that I would be able to lend authenticity to such a wondrous tale of lore is my intent. A scholarly endeavor, nothing more. Please spare us your dark vengeance.”
The shadowy figure was silent for a moment. It’s eyes seemed to cool as they changed in hue. It spoke, but in a more civil tone than before. “I have listened and looked within your thoughts Lorne Finchridge of Vesper, I know your words to be true. I will spare you and your charge if you will serve me in that which I ask of you.” Lorne could do nothing but nod in acceptance as he listened to the terms of his pardon. “I am Abyss Ebonmourne, and you, like all mortals are no mystery to me. I bind you with three promises in exchange for your life and that of young Jobson, your apprentice. The first, you must never return to this place. The second, you must never reveal the location of these catacombs. The last, you will be indebted to me for one task which you may not refuse. I will ask this of you at the time of my choosing. Do you agree to these things?” The old man shivered, a sudden pale was upon him, he felt clammy and his voice was weak as he answered. “I will do all as you have said M’Lord Abyss, please allow us our lives and be done with us this night so we may see our homes by tomorrow’s light.” Abyss then produced a blackened dagger from a sheath at his side. “Then in blood will you seal this pact”. Lorne took the dagger and with a trembling hand drew it’s blade across the other. Blood began to flow and drip upon the ground. Steam rose from each drop of blood that touched the ground as if the cave itself was appeased by such a rite. “It is done” said Abyss as he returned the dagger to it’s sheath. “Now begone, and never return to this place, or it will be your doom”. He turned and began to fade into the darkness from whence he had come.
“M’Lord”, Lorne called, “May I ask but one question?” Abyss stopped, “if you must ask, then one question shall I answer.” Lorne felt a lump rise in his throat, he could not leave without knowing. “Is it true M’Lord, the gem of shadow, does it indeed exist?” Abyss was still, moments passed until Lorne could bear it no longer. “M’Lord, does in fact the” ,“yes!” Abyss snarled as he violently interjected, “yes, the cursed gem of which you speak exists!” Abyss turned towards Lorne and his young apprentice, walking slowly his eyes glowing brighter with each step. “Do you wish to hear of it?” Abyss spoke in a low, mocking tone. Lorne began to retreat nudging Jobson back as he stumbled over his own feet.
“Sit and I will tell you something that not many have heard or ever will.” Abyss then sat upon the sarcophagus that was the object of Lorne’s quest. The specter’s mood seemed to change as he looked at the two who had disturbed the quiet of Abyss’ necropolis. “I would imagine that you have quite a tale M’Lord and we have many hours until the light of day, please if it pleases you, tell us of this wonder….the gem of shadow.” Abyss shifted his weight to gain a more stoic visage then began. “I will tell of a time long ago when your race was in it’s infancy and evil had a name.”
The crypt was dark, cold and oppressively void of fresh air. The stench of decay long yielded to the fetid balm of ancient dust. Two figures struggle to make their way through the cavernous expanse of entombed remains. A small lantern bobbed and weaved with each wary step taken. The squeaking of it’s handle, whispered prayers and curses the only sounds that stir the ink of the surrounding gloom. The lantern, at long-last finds a place upon a large sarcophagus. The grey marble from which it was carved seems to absorb the light as soapstone takes up water. A voice parts the darkness. “Here it is boy, I told you I would find it!” Another voice, younger and more shrill responds “True to your word master, you have.” Parchment is produced from within a leather pack, a quill and ink are quickly placed beside it on a nearby sepulcher. The youngest of the two men unburdens a large sack from his shoulder and places it on the ground with a resounding clank of metal. “The chisel and hammer boy, quickly now”, the older man gestures excitedly as the boy hurriedly opens the sack and rifles through it’s contents. Soon the boy finds the tools and they are immediately taken by the old man who sets to work as fast as the limits of the faint light from the lantern will allow. Three strikes ring loud, assaulting the solemn hush within the cave of tombs. Small chunks of stone fall to the floor as the old man smiles wide, he can only imagine what treasure lay at the end of his labors. The boy looks on with an impish grin, wringing his hands in eager anticipation.
Suddenly a frigid draft plunges through the caverns, enveloping the two men in shrouds of numbing cold. The light of the lantern goes dim, then flares in a brilliant blue, bathing everything in a soft, sapphire glow. A dark figure with eyes red as hot coals steps forward from amongst a line of vaults and speaks. “What you seek is no longer here. It was taken by one such as yourself. Go now or forfeit your life!” The words splinter the air like cold iron as the old man steps in front of the boy, shielding him from the specter’s wrath. “Please M’lord, we do not come as thieves. I am a scribe and historian, this boy is my apprentice. I have come only to see if legends of a gem of shadow are true. I wish only to sketch it’s likeness and write of it’s existence. I would not take such a treasure, nor divulge it’s location. Only that I would be able to lend authenticity to such a wondrous tale of lore is my intent. A scholarly endeavor, nothing more. Please spare us your dark vengeance.”
The shadowy figure was silent for a moment. It’s eyes seemed to cool as they changed in hue. It spoke, but in a more civil tone than before. “I have listened and looked within your thoughts Lorne Finchridge of Vesper, I know your words to be true. I will spare you and your charge if you will serve me in that which I ask of you.” Lorne could do nothing but nod in acceptance as he listened to the terms of his pardon. “I am Abyss Ebonmourne, and you, like all mortals are no mystery to me. I bind you with three promises in exchange for your life and that of young Jobson, your apprentice. The first, you must never return to this place. The second, you must never reveal the location of these catacombs. The last, you will be indebted to me for one task which you may not refuse. I will ask this of you at the time of my choosing. Do you agree to these things?” The old man shivered, a sudden pale was upon him, he felt clammy and his voice was weak as he answered. “I will do all as you have said M’Lord Abyss, please allow us our lives and be done with us this night so we may see our homes by tomorrow’s light.” Abyss then produced a blackened dagger from a sheath at his side. “Then in blood will you seal this pact”. Lorne took the dagger and with a trembling hand drew it’s blade across the other. Blood began to flow and drip upon the ground. Steam rose from each drop of blood that touched the ground as if the cave itself was appeased by such a rite. “It is done” said Abyss as he returned the dagger to it’s sheath. “Now begone, and never return to this place, or it will be your doom”. He turned and began to fade into the darkness from whence he had come.
“M’Lord”, Lorne called, “May I ask but one question?” Abyss stopped, “if you must ask, then one question shall I answer.” Lorne felt a lump rise in his throat, he could not leave without knowing. “Is it true M’Lord, the gem of shadow, does it indeed exist?” Abyss was still, moments passed until Lorne could bear it no longer. “M’Lord, does in fact the” ,“yes!” Abyss snarled as he violently interjected, “yes, the cursed gem of which you speak exists!” Abyss turned towards Lorne and his young apprentice, walking slowly his eyes glowing brighter with each step. “Do you wish to hear of it?” Abyss spoke in a low, mocking tone. Lorne began to retreat nudging Jobson back as he stumbled over his own feet.
“Sit and I will tell you something that not many have heard or ever will.” Abyss then sat upon the sarcophagus that was the object of Lorne’s quest. The specter’s mood seemed to change as he looked at the two who had disturbed the quiet of Abyss’ necropolis. “I would imagine that you have quite a tale M’Lord and we have many hours until the light of day, please if it pleases you, tell us of this wonder….the gem of shadow.” Abyss shifted his weight to gain a more stoic visage then began. “I will tell of a time long ago when your race was in it’s infancy and evil had a name.”