The cold silence of the tomb lay dead. The dust of eons lay resting. A small tapping echoed on the tomb door. Louder it grew. Small specs of light dust the floor withits presance. Something began to unseal this eternal prison. A set of whispers broke the silence of time.
"For this place to be sealed so well there 'hast' to be something of worthy value in here" the first broad, deep, male sounding voice rang out as the door soon begin to give way
"Be quiet you oaf and open this door! We have more 4 tombs to go after this so if you dont mind might we hurry it up?" Another more feminie and inteligent voice seaped into the tomb. The rest of the stone door fell away the moon light becomming visable as the dust jumped to life before collapsing again into is eternal sleep.
A light cough rang out as a light footstep bounced off the wall's of the tomb. The first footsetp past the threshold for thousands upon thousands of years. As the moon wind began to blow through the hallways and ornate passages of the tomb the dust continued to jump into life. A trick of the eye would make you think that ghosts were stalking you.
The grave diggers stalked down the stairs with flat footed grace until they came to a grand marble coffin. The confin was ingraved with many mystical and magical rooms. Many a chest and ornate box lay around the room containing the treasures of the old kingdoms when dragons roamed the lands.
The gorillia sized man walked with as much balance and grace as a wrestler. He moved in with his torch laying a small lamp on the floor and lighting a match. The flame sprung into light breathing a new born life into the chamber the many engravings, carvings and paintings seeming to whisper their tale of centuries to the couple. The two stooda little speachless in awe of the room before the female lashed out at the man her hand making contact with the back of his head.
"Well, dont just stand there! Get it open! Im not paying you to pick your nose you know!" she snapped at the goon before motioning to the coffin her voice screaching like that of the bats. "get it open!"
She watched him as he hobbled over his hands fiddling with the locks on it he struggles letting out a groan of strength now and then as he try's to force it open, a click is heard.
"I think I got it!" He exsclaimes as a shaft falls from the roof plouging through his head before toppling over wedged inside the corpse as blood slowly filled the carvings on the floor. The woman stood speachless as the huge marble door slamed shut behind her. She spun running to it. Only solid marble met her hands. She quickly began to panic. The blood that had laneded on the coffin began to seep slowly through small cracks that time had made. A small whisper could be heard by those listening but the female was too busy trying to work out a way out interbertween screaming loud enough to wake the dead. She stopped. A light mist gather'd around her ankles as they grew cold. The light of the lamp dances on the walls. The hairs on her neck begin to raise up. Her body fall's limp as two razor sharp fangs penatrait her. Her screams become mere gargles.
The body of the woman dropes to the floor as a new figure stands letting out a roar of bloodlust. Blood drips of his chin as he steps over to a golden chest blowing the dust off and wiping his hand across the jewels. Slowly he removes the lid. The contents make his eyes gleam ever so slightly as he takes them out. A set of metal gaunlets. Dark. Shadowy. Painful. A ring with an ruby crimson in colour set in the center of it. Imbued with the power of the king's blood. A book. Bound in the leather of humans. The spine from a wing bone of a Dove. The ink the blood of a holy man. Removing the contents ad placing them on his person the figure picks up the chest slowly before unleashing a furious rage onto it throwing it against the far wall it shattering into a thousand pieces.
glance around the room the figure notices a shaft of moon light shineing in through the door tilting his head he begisn to run. As he makes contact with the door the figure exsplodes shadows flowing through the whole to appear on the otherside the figures outline reforming before becomming sharper and real. He glaced around, his hold naked body began to walk down the walk ways. His memory rembering his incarseration into this, disgusting place. The moonlight call's out too him. The night air draws him in like a fly to the light. Slowly, his bare feet carried himtoward the archway where the seal ocne stood. The moon light slowly lighting his pale body.
A slim athletically built man now stands there. Hair down to his shoulders. His eyes of the deepest blue. A handsome man. A single scar on his body. Where the greatest and most holy of blades has struck him. The kiss of death evaded him once more. Now a shard of the sword still stuck in his muscle he is now no longer harmed by holy crosses. After constant exsposer to a slow amount of a gods power his strength has increased making it nothing more than a normal blade to him. Tattoos. Many imaginative carvings in his flesh. Telling a story. One of old lore. He walks with his head up high. A proud yet weak man. His body straight, almost regimented in his stance.
He survays the graveyard he looks upon. Here starts his jorney on this new world. A Monster reborn to shape this world. The Earth is his putty. He is the craftsman. He is the one that death itself fears. A man so unholy not even the most holyest of blades could stop him. With the gauntlets of umbra and the ring of Rex rgis Cruor he is the one who shall bring the Vampyr's back from the mere 'fables' they are today. He is the Atrum Parvulus
The cold silence of the tomb lay dead. The dust of eons lay resting. A small tapping echoed on the tomb door. Louder it grew. Small specs of light dust the floor withits presance. Something began to unseal this eternal prison. A set of whispers broke the silence of time.
"For this place to be sealed so well there 'hast' to be something of worthy value in here" the first broad, deep, male sounding voice rang out as the door soon begin to give way
"Be quiet you oaf and open this door! We have more 4 tombs to go after this so if you dont mind might we hurry it up?" Another more feminie and inteligent voice seaped into the tomb. The rest of the stone door fell away the moon light becomming visable as the dust jumped to life before collapsing again into is eternal sleep.
A light cough rang out as a light footstep bounced off the wall's of the tomb. The first footsetp past the threshold for thousands upon thousands of years. As the moon wind began to blow through the hallways and ornate passages of the tomb the dust continued to jump into life. A trick of the eye would make you think that ghosts were stalking you.
The grave diggers stalked down the stairs with flat footed grace until they came to a grand marble coffin. The confin was ingraved with many mystical and magical rooms. Many a chest and ornate box lay around the room containing the treasures of the old kingdoms when dragons roamed the lands.
The gorillia sized man walked with as much balance and grace as a wrestler. He moved in with his torch laying a small lamp on the floor and lighting a match. The flame sprung into light breathing a new born life into the chamber the many engravings, carvings and paintings seeming to whisper their tale of centuries to the couple. The two stooda little speachless in awe of the room before the female lashed out at the man her hand making contact with the back of his head.
"Well, dont just stand there! Get it open! Im not paying you to pick your nose you know!" she snapped at the goon before motioning to the coffin her voice screaching like that of the bats. "get it open!"
She watched him as he hobbled over his hands fiddling with the locks on it he struggles letting out a groan of strength now and then as he try's to force it open, a click is heard.
"I think I got it!" He exsclaimes as a shaft falls from the roof plouging through his head before toppling over wedged inside the corpse as blood slowly filled the carvings on the floor. The woman stood speachless as the huge marble door slamed shut behind her. She spun running to it. Only solid marble met her hands. She quickly began to panic. The blood that had laneded on the coffin began to seep slowly through small cracks that time had made. A small whisper could be heard by those listening but the female was too busy trying to work out a way out interbertween screaming loud enough to wake the dead. She stopped. A light mist gather'd around her ankles as they grew cold. The light of the lamp dances on the walls. The hairs on her neck begin to raise up. Her body fall's limp as two razor sharp fangs penatrait her. Her screams become mere gargles.
The body of the woman dropes to the floor as a new figure stands letting out a roar of bloodlust. Blood drips of his chin as he steps over to a golden chest blowing the dust off and wiping his hand across the jewels. Slowly he removes the lid. The contents make his eyes gleam ever so slightly as he takes them out. A set of metal gaunlets. Dark. Shadowy. Painful. A ring with an ruby crimson in colour set in the center of it. Imbued with the power of the king's blood. A book. Bound in the leather of humans. The spine from a wing bone of a Dove. The ink the blood of a holy man. Removing the contents ad placing them on his person the figure picks up the chest slowly before unleashing a furious rage onto it throwing it against the far wall it shattering into a thousand pieces.
glance around the room the figure notices a shaft of moon light shineing in through the door tilting his head he begisn to run. As he makes contact with the door the figure exsplodes shadows flowing through the whole to appear on the otherside the figures outline reforming before becomming sharper and real. He glaced around, his hold naked body began to walk down the walk ways. His memory rembering his incarseration into this, disgusting place. The moonlight call's out too him. The night air draws him in like a fly to the light. Slowly, his bare feet carried himtoward the archway where the seal ocne stood. The moon light slowly lighting his pale body.
A slim athletically built man now stands there. Hair down to his shoulders. His eyes of the deepest blue. A handsome man. A single scar on his body. Where the greatest and most holy of blades has struck him. The kiss of death evaded him once more. Now a shard of the sword still stuck in his muscle he is now no longer harmed by holy crosses. After constant exsposer to a slow amount of a gods power his strength has increased making it nothing more than a normal blade to him. Tattoos. Many imaginative carvings in his flesh. Telling a story. One of old lore. He walks with his head up high. A proud yet weak man. His body straight, almost regimented in his stance.
He survays the graveyard he looks upon. Here starts his jorney on this new world. A Monster reborn to shape this world. The Earth is his putty. He is the craftsman. He is the one that death itself fears. A man so unholy not even the most holyest of blades could stop him. With the gauntlets of umbra and the ring of Rex rgis Cruor he is the one who shall bring the Vampyr's back from the mere 'fables' they are today. He is the Atrum Parvulus