Fiction:The Golden Necropolis

= Prologue =

Desecration
It was mid-autumn in Koldenwelt. However, in the volcanic plains of Abyssus, seasons meant nothing. The skies were perpetually clouded in shades of grey and red, faint sunlight piercing the skies in vain. The ground, save for Sangua Mons itself was flat, for miles upon miles could be seen in the greatest of clarity, until sandstorms that may last for days on end would obscure the view. In an outpost, some two hundred miles away from the colossal fortress Osdaemonis were Shiarchon, travelling through the wastes with numerous cages containing humans from the Empire of Man. Soldiers, scouts sent to spy on the territory but failed ultimately to hide from the Shiarchon's almost implacable observance.

These humans underwent severe torture. They all knelt in a defeated emotion, with their skin torn and cut; most of them were engraved with sigils that the beings of the Void often left on the world. Blood congealed, but the wounds were blurred nonetheless. Leading the Shiarchon, was not a man but a woman. Her skin was untouched by the horrors that befell their males, yet her eyes were still hollow and infernal, ringed with darkness on her face. Her armour narrated the well-kept figure of her body well, in scale-like mail plating it as if it were dragon skin. Her face was clearly visible under half a void-mask, despite the beauty of the Orichalcum Elves, her lips were cracked and her skin paled from the lack of sun from Abyssus. Her armour was well decorated, mostly a red similar to the ground itself, painted intricately with similar sigil markings that scarred the humans near her. She stood perhaps seven feet and four inches tall, small for a Shiarchon but yet enormous for all Deiwos-kind. Her teeth, unlike the males was near perfect, but evil still caused her teeth to become fangs. She wielded a staff of swords in her left hand, overseeing the humans in the cage.

Many Shiarchon males accompanied her on this travel. Despite the position of females in Shiarchon society, she commanded respect from all Shiarchon around her without the need for words. The very contact from her eyes, more feral than that of Shiarchon men often meant silence from her inferiors. She was in fact a Praetor - commanded by the Imperator himself.

Sun was about to set. The halo of Farsola could be seen through the clouds as the carmine red skies became a dull brown, verging on black. The halo itself was a bright yellow, but became brighter and brighter with its descent over the horizon. From the same horizon however, was a Shiarchon, astride a Cataphractus, riding wildly towards the Shiarchon female. Before he was in the position to knock her aside, the horse stopped in its tracks, dust spurring like waves over the humans in the cage. They coughed, some of them vomiting from the energy required to do so. The Shiarchon's mask hung loosely from his face, whilst the female looked at him with intense apprehension. Her name was Ánnoria.


 * Ánnoria - Tighten your mask, messenger. Presentation is paramount.

The messenger tightened the mask with incredible pace, almost frantically so.


 * Ánnoria - A problem, messenger?

The messenger took a few breaths before he began to speak. It was quite obviously important.


 * Messenger - Praetor Ánnoria. I have received a message from Osdaemonis. Our lord wants to speak with you immediately.


 * Ánnoria - Immediately? Imperator Kalarah can wait. A two-day ride to the Citadel is less important than these humans here being transferred to the Southern Outposts.

The Messenger's eyes closed tightly before opening again.


 * Ánnoria - Not Imperator Kalarah, my lady. Our Lord. A hearing from Osdaemonis itself.

Ánnoria's eyes widened and her mouth agape. The men around her started squabbling and gasping as, to them, this was unheard of. Such an honour was not freely given to Shiarchon, and much less to those who did not inhabit Osdaemonis itself. Ánnoria nodded, and took to her horse, a silver haired Cataphractus and rode immediately.

It took almost seven hours of constant riding before Osdaemonis' entrance was before her feet. Osdaemonis itself could be seen from the outpost itself; the fortress was immense. The largest extant fortress in Koldenwelt itself, nearly four and a half thousand feet tall at its apex. It was built in a vaguely horseshoe shape, perhaps reaching twelve thousand feet from side to side. It was built from the mountain that was once there itself, entirely hewn from darkstone. Countless towers marked the fortress symmetrically before the entrance itself, a door of a similar build, reaching perhaps three hundred feet high was in the centre. Osdaemonis was built on the other side of a canyon, and the bridge spanned greatly. It took her four minutes to cross it by foot, and every minute that passed her, dormant Void Guardians looked at her with eyeless gazes.

As she entered the doors, already opened, numerous Prohpets were lined up, waiting for her arrival. They spoke no word, but beckoned her to follow them. They went straight forward into a chamber that annexed the main hall. It seemed to be of a similar design to an amphitheatre or an auditorium - a circular shape of the room with a walkway in the midst which Ánnoria and the Prophets were stood upon. The room itself was of a great size, and on the walls, in tiered heights, glyphs of the Chaosphere Tongue were lit by the braziers that flanked the room. The Prophets nodded to her, and left the room, closing the doors behind her. As silence befell the room, Ánnoria could hear an incessant, surreal drumming noise. It was slow, irregular but followed a pattern. The braziers began to dim and die, and once they did, an enormous blackened smoke exploded from the depths of the room and surrounded the spherical hall. Once it filled the room, in front of Ánnoria formed a figure of darkness, of draconic shape, with bright crimson eyes piercing her very soul as it looked at her. It levitated, and it was perhaps twice her size.

Ánnoria was overcome by awe, and fear. Her weakened knees gave way as she knelt in a collision to the floor, joining her hands in a gesture of respect. Her breath was as almost as loud as the drums and the demonic breath that filled the room.


 * Ánnoria - Master...Master C-Caligaduro. I have arrived as y-you req-requested.

As Caligaduro began to spoke, his very voice felt deep and colossal. It was not as maddening nor as horrific as it once was, but rather calm and serpentine. It sounded like a hall of a thousand Shiarchon, all of them speaking at once.


 * Caligaduro - The Void speaks. And my will shall be heard.

Caligaduro's own avatar shifted across the hall. Along it, was the sound of a visceral, desolate wind that blew Ánnoria's bronze and black hair in the same direction. She did not dare to look upon Caligaduro's avatar, although the desire was great.


 * Caligaduro - Gaze upon me. And see my command in motion.

She looked upon the fiery apparition. Her eyes squinted from the light given off by his very being; her eyes were darkened from the fire that overcame it.


 * Ánnoria - What...what is y-your c-command...my Lord?


 * Caligaduro -The tombs of your ancestors have been revealed to me. Hidden from my gaze no longer, after many millennia in the shadows. Their secrets unravelled. My matrix shall be returned to me.

Ánnoria was confused. The Golden Necropolis was a location that was unknown even to the Orichalcum Elves of old. Even more confused about the Void Matrix that Caligaduro had just spoken of.


 * Ánnoria - A-a...Void Matrix?


 * Caligaduro' - A nexus of power. It shall grant me unhindered dominion in this mortal plane. I shall be able to walk among you once more. Weakened. But...in fire and in terror.

The sight of Caligaduro caused Ánnoria's very eyes to water up - in blood. It poured from her eyes as she then looked away, clearing her face.


 * Ánnoria - The...location of t-the G-Golden Necropolis...I know not of where it-t is.

The vortex which swirled around the hall manifested a map of Koldenwelt. It singled out a particular location in the south, near the coast. It glowed bright in a similar red light to Caligaduro's own eyes.


 * Caligaduro - You shall retrieve my matrix. Deliver unto me a physical form. And I shall smite Koldenwelt with my wrath.

Ánnoria nodded, but she had more to say.


 * Ánnoria - ...Why m-me...my Lord?

Caligaduro's ghost turned to Ánnoria. She looked down, as blood continued to pool around her feet.


 * Caligaduro - Kalarah. He puts no trust in you. I however, have. Your divine right to enter the tombs of your ancestors and reclaim their powers...and my power. Kalarah is not to be listened to. This is my command to you, mortal.


 * Ánnoria - Surely...I c-cannot do this by myself...


 * Caligaduro - You shall take Leviathan with you.

From the side of the hall, an immense Shiarchon Ambroscus warrior emerged. Known as Leviathan, he stood nearly eleven feet tall, with shoulders broad enough to be almost two Shiarchon. With him he wielded a gargantuan darkstone greatsword. He walked towards, and then aside Ánnoria with great weight, causing the ground to tremble.


 * Caligaduro - Now. Leave. I await your return with my matrix. Fail, and be cast into the void yourself.

Ánnoria and Leviathan nodded before leaving. As they walked out of the fortress, and across the bridge, with Ánnoria's horse was an even larger, darkstone-armoured horse that was Leviathan's own mount. Speaking no words to each other, rather than her eyes meeting his faceless helm, they took to their steeds and rode east towards the Tropical Lands.