Into The Depths

Prologue: Mortal Construct

Story by: Ryan Collins

The glum torch light reflected off the musty dungeon walls. A faint dripping noise steadily repeated itself on and on, never stopping for even the slightest space of time. Over this dripping noise the steady grunts and breaths of toil and labor broke what would be nearly perfect silence. The rectangular room was underground, with only a small grate shining light onto a stone worktable. Workbenches were pushed against the wall and littered with tools and reagents. To finish this dank image, grotesque stains of blood marred the stone of the worktable and the floor around it.

A group of around six people of various races were working on a mass of flesh, muscle, blood, and bone. Occasionally one would break the process and grab something from their respective workbench. The workers were alchemists and surgeons, people skilled in making bodies come back to life. A Tsul'trin towered above his fellow workers, his hooves knocking against the stone floor whenever he moved. Next to him was a Sand Elf with shocking red hair and very tan skin, he was shorter than his partner. His partner was a Kalapharn with strange crystalline skin, a rarity amongst the race. Far below him was a cloaked person that had the disadvantage of being the shortest. The other two workers were Human surgeons, one had an unmistakeable green glow from under where a hood covered his eyes.

The Sand Elf made a neat incision along a hunk of flesh and muscle sewn expertly together. He inserted an iron spike with jagged edges into it and stitched it back up, then spoke up, "Alright my fellow workers we're almost done piecing together the greatest creation made by Lanmarians since Wazeechal himself!" He attached this piece of flesh over another shoulder-like piece and drew a sign with a knife. Instantly the flesh became a strange, yet natural metal armor that melded itself into the shoulder.

After a few more long and tedious hours of sewing and transmuting the Warthi finally spoke in a calm voice, "We have finished my friends. Tomorrow once twilight hits we shall raise the beast from the dead. For now let us rest until that time." They all nodded and congratulated each other on their delicate work of art. The beast was lying on it's side, strange leathery hide covered every inch of his body. A natural metal-like armor covered some of the experiment's body in key places. Iron spikes jutted out from the shoulders, elbows, knees, and tail. It's tail was quite large and bulky, seemingly able to club through stone walls like they were sugar cubes. His claws were long and serrated on all four feet and his fangs were needle-like and silver. Sockets where eyes should be were on his face; three to be exact, one was in the middle of his forehead. It's bulk seemed to weigh about a ton and his height was around 20' at least.

The workers walked off, but the Warthi pulled aside the Sand Elf and they hid in a dark corner, "Damu... I do not trust our fellow workers. How do we know they won't talk about the Labyrus? That beast is nearly unstoppable and anyone would pay handsomely for it." Damu waved aside his partner and laughed.

"Maelis, calm yourself. The others will not so much as attempt it while a Warlord is working with them. The Kalapharn is none other then Galu'Yur, I foresaw he'll be High Chieftain in a good 800 years. The Human with the eery green glow will be our Jagurian contact at about that same time. The others will be long dead." He grinned smugly, giving the Warthi an irritated feeling.

"Very well... we best be off before the others suspect." Maelis pulled Damu by the robe for a bit before he got the idea and began to walk on his own. As they exited the damp dungeons another figure materialized out of the shadows. His titanium armor shone magnificently, seeming to bend the light around it. His torso area below the diaphragm was open, revealing raging elements surrounded by two colliding spheres, one creating energy and the other absorbing it. He walked to the beast, the Labyrus, and put a hand on it's neck. He reached into his helmet and pulled out a crystal orb.

"I give this to you, so that you may roam free in the caverns of Jagur at your will once you are revived. Take the Titan's Eye and avoid those evil Chaos fiends as much as possible." With that he placed the crystal orb into one of the eye sockets, a perfect fit. The knight carved a path through the stone with the glowing end of his blade, "Find this passageway and run amongst the dead deep within Jagur's depths." He bowed and walked into the depths, leaving the motionless Labyrus alone in the dungeon.

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Janor awoke with a start, on the rolling plank floor. He got up, brushing rot off his light blue scales. He glanced at the sleeping Rasiss, holding in a laugh at his snores. He put a pipe in his mouth and took a long puff, the herb's chemicals relaxing his mind and clearing it. The window was fogged up to a cool gray color. With no hope of seeing through it he walked to the door of their quarters and opened it.

As he stepped onto the slick wood of the deck he was pelted by a curtain of cold rain. Janor coughed a bit, already soaked to the bone in the short amount of time he was in the storm. He walked to the edge of the ship, his metal boots clicking on the occasional metal reinforcements.

"I say... hey ya... sailor!" He shouted this over the storm and a Jagurian sailor joined him.

"Can I help you Sir?" The sailor saluted him respectively, honoring Janor's rank as General of Keerdor. Janor smiled and pointed a clawed finger at a rain-soaked statue, strands of seaweed being washed up against it's marble surface. It was a sculpture of what Wazeechal supposedly looked like and he stood in a upright posture. His sword stuck in the ground and the elements clashing in his gut. He seemed to guard the bay that Port Veeth lied in.

"I'm quite so curious, ain't that Wazeechal's statue right there?" Janor leaned against the railing.

"Yes it is! I'll go tell the boss, thank you for your keen eyes General!" The sailor ran off to the helm of the ship, leaving Janor alone in the downpour of water. He sighed and walked back to his quarters, the bay was quite large and it'd still take a day to get to Veeth. Janor layed down in his bed after taking off his cloak, hat, and shoes then drifted into another deep sleep. Almost awakened by the slight telepathic link attached to his mind, but not quite.