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The path to the rural farm was eerily silent - no crickets, no owls, nothing. Only silence.
The older fellow, Bones, had received the note and approached the area after dusk as it stated. Not seeing anyone in the area, he took a drink from the nearby well to pass the time. With a bucket full of water at his lips, a ghostly-sounding whisper filled his ears on all sides.
"State your purpose.."
The old man dropped the bucket, looking about to find the source of the sound. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"I am thirsty.. who are you?"
From the dark came a sinister laughter.
"Where are you?!"
A flash of magical energies surged behind the old man, resulting in a slow materialization of a young man in a hooded robe. The old man turned to face him.
"You have asked about the Old Lord Skull.. we have been watching. State your purpose, lest I deliver you unto Him."
The old man stood slightly taller, finally aware of what the situation was about.
"I was.. there is only truth in this world.. and that is that Death will take us all."
The young mage nodded slightly, folding his arms across his chest. He began to pace in front of the old man - sizing him up while he spoke.
You know of Him, then.. good... why do you seek His temple?
"I seek to pay my respect, of course. To pay my toll and seek his wisdom." The old man spoke bluntly with honesty. "My journey has just begun, but I plan to dedicate my life in His service."
"So you say, old man.. but the Lord of Bones has many enemies in this land. Why should He accept you into His flock?"
"We will all be His in time.." responded the old figure. "I have no enemies at the moment, but I will fight for faith. This is my truth and my word."
The same ominous chuckle emanated from the young mage, exercising the chilling sound again.
"Come.." The mage began to walk towards the desolate field, dragging a serrated dagger from a scabbard at his side. ".. the time has come to test your mettle."
The old man followed, cracking his knuckles while following the mage to the middle of the field. The wizard began to draw a strange symbol in the ground with some form of crystallized dust, followed by shearing the flesh of his palm and dripping blood onto the ground below.
"Ade due Myrkula.. give me the power I beg of you.." A thunderstorm began to roll into the area as the mage started his invocation.
"Secoise entienne mais pois de morte.." The chant slowly became more fervent. The hairs on the old man's neck began to stand as bolts of lightning and thunder became increasingly more frequent as the chant went on.
"Morteisma lieu de vocuier de mieu vochette! Endoline pour de boisette Myrkula!!" The mage was nearly screaming now, spouting the words of invocation at a rapid pace, summoning something. The entire field was encased in a positive electric influence.
"Secoise entienne mais pois de morte! Endelieu pour de boisette Myrkula!!
A successive trio of lightning struck the ground near the two of them, shaking the earth. The soil began to tremble as something underneath stirred. The old man looked to the quivering area of land, wide-eyed.
"A servant..!"
A decayed armored hand shot out from the ground.. finally free. Soon came a rotted skull, howling at its release.
"Your test.. begins now." The mage lowered his arms from the sky, looking directly to the old man. "Prove yourself.. or be devoured."
The old man raised his fists in a combat stance, ready to assault the creature and succeed. If the undead could have laughed, it would have done so with its roar of fury - it was all too hungry.
The old man and the creature battled for what felt an eternity; trading blow for blow, scorn for scorn. The young mage sat back and watched the spectacle unfold, again laughing with sadistic glee as the two tore each other apart.
The old man's determination, however, was stronger than the beast's hunger.
"Yes... good.. good.." Mhaaj commented as the old man gained the upper hand, turning the battle in his favor. The mage watched as his creation fell to the ground, disintegrating in defeat. The old man turned to Mhaaj, wiping the blood from his wounds.
"Your servant was tough.." said the old man, inbetween breaths of exhaustion. ".. but I remain willing to serve."
Mhaaj put away his dagger, moving closer to the old man. The storm was slowly beginning to subside.
"I swear my fealty to the Lord of Bones.. in this life.. and the next."
"You have done well.. let it be known today that you are forever bound to the will of The Old Lord Skull. You will serve him completely and utterly. So it is done."
One final crack of lightning and thunder finalized the ritual. The old man nodded and bowed his head.
"You have earned the title of 'Daring One'. Report to the Citadel for further instructions. Your progress will be closely monitored. Come to know the Lord of Bones and fear him. His embrace is for all and is patient.. but sure. His hand is everywhere."
The young mage disappeared as quickly as he came.
The older fellow, Bones, had received the note and approached the area after dusk as it stated. Not seeing anyone in the area, he took a drink from the nearby well to pass the time. With a bucket full of water at his lips, a ghostly-sounding whisper filled his ears on all sides.
"State your purpose.."
The old man dropped the bucket, looking about to find the source of the sound. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
"I am thirsty.. who are you?"
From the dark came a sinister laughter.
"Where are you?!"
A flash of magical energies surged behind the old man, resulting in a slow materialization of a young man in a hooded robe. The old man turned to face him.
"You have asked about the Old Lord Skull.. we have been watching. State your purpose, lest I deliver you unto Him."
The old man stood slightly taller, finally aware of what the situation was about.
"I was.. there is only truth in this world.. and that is that Death will take us all."
The young mage nodded slightly, folding his arms across his chest. He began to pace in front of the old man - sizing him up while he spoke.
You know of Him, then.. good... why do you seek His temple?
"I seek to pay my respect, of course. To pay my toll and seek his wisdom." The old man spoke bluntly with honesty. "My journey has just begun, but I plan to dedicate my life in His service."
"So you say, old man.. but the Lord of Bones has many enemies in this land. Why should He accept you into His flock?"
"We will all be His in time.." responded the old figure. "I have no enemies at the moment, but I will fight for faith. This is my truth and my word."
The same ominous chuckle emanated from the young mage, exercising the chilling sound again.
"Come.." The mage began to walk towards the desolate field, dragging a serrated dagger from a scabbard at his side. ".. the time has come to test your mettle."
The old man followed, cracking his knuckles while following the mage to the middle of the field. The wizard began to draw a strange symbol in the ground with some form of crystallized dust, followed by shearing the flesh of his palm and dripping blood onto the ground below.
"Ade due Myrkula.. give me the power I beg of you.." A thunderstorm began to roll into the area as the mage started his invocation.
"Secoise entienne mais pois de morte.." The chant slowly became more fervent. The hairs on the old man's neck began to stand as bolts of lightning and thunder became increasingly more frequent as the chant went on.
"Morteisma lieu de vocuier de mieu vochette! Endoline pour de boisette Myrkula!!" The mage was nearly screaming now, spouting the words of invocation at a rapid pace, summoning something. The entire field was encased in a positive electric influence.
"Secoise entienne mais pois de morte! Endelieu pour de boisette Myrkula!!
A successive trio of lightning struck the ground near the two of them, shaking the earth. The soil began to tremble as something underneath stirred. The old man looked to the quivering area of land, wide-eyed.
"A servant..!"
A decayed armored hand shot out from the ground.. finally free. Soon came a rotted skull, howling at its release.
"Your test.. begins now." The mage lowered his arms from the sky, looking directly to the old man. "Prove yourself.. or be devoured."
The old man raised his fists in a combat stance, ready to assault the creature and succeed. If the undead could have laughed, it would have done so with its roar of fury - it was all too hungry.
The old man and the creature battled for what felt an eternity; trading blow for blow, scorn for scorn. The young mage sat back and watched the spectacle unfold, again laughing with sadistic glee as the two tore each other apart.
The old man's determination, however, was stronger than the beast's hunger.
"Yes... good.. good.." Mhaaj commented as the old man gained the upper hand, turning the battle in his favor. The mage watched as his creation fell to the ground, disintegrating in defeat. The old man turned to Mhaaj, wiping the blood from his wounds.
"Your servant was tough.." said the old man, inbetween breaths of exhaustion. ".. but I remain willing to serve."
Mhaaj put away his dagger, moving closer to the old man. The storm was slowly beginning to subside.
"I swear my fealty to the Lord of Bones.. in this life.. and the next."
"You have done well.. let it be known today that you are forever bound to the will of The Old Lord Skull. You will serve him completely and utterly. So it is done."
One final crack of lightning and thunder finalized the ritual. The old man nodded and bowed his head.
"You have earned the title of 'Daring One'. Report to the Citadel for further instructions. Your progress will be closely monitored. Come to know the Lord of Bones and fear him. His embrace is for all and is patient.. but sure. His hand is everywhere."
The young mage disappeared as quickly as he came.