A day later, Runner and Gauge departed from the rest of their group, setting out to find Zavet at the black pyramid where the necromancers' guild hall was located. As they approached the imposing structure, the sky above was overcast, casting eerie shadows on the pyramid’s dark, gleaming surface.

  At the base of the pyramid, the pair paused. The entrance was hidden, but Gauge knew the way. He turned to Runner, his expression serious. “Okay, you need to place your hand here,” he instructed, pointing to a specific spot on the smooth, cold stone of the pyramid. “And say the following incantation: ‘By my power, I command these walls to recognize the necromancy within me.’

  Runner nodded, his hand trembling slightly as he pressed it against the designated spot. He took a deep breath and recited the incantation. “By my power, I command these walls to recognize the necromancy within me.”

  For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the stone beneath Runner’s hand began to glow faintly, lines of crimson light tracing out a doorway. With a low, grinding sound, a section of the pyramid’s wall slid open, revealing a pitch-black room beyond.

  Runner squinted into the darkness, his heart racing. He could just make out a pair of glowing red eyes in the middle of the room, watching them intently. Gauge stepped forward confidently, his voice echoing in the still air.

  “We wish to seek an audience with Lord Talich of the Black Order.”

  The red eyes blinked, and a deep, resonant voice responded from the shadows. “State your purpose.”

  Gauge glanced at Runner before speaking again. “We seek Zavet, who we believe is here under Lord Talich’s protection. We come in peace and with urgent news.”

  The red eyes seemed to consider this momentarily before the voice replied. “Very well. Enter and be judged.”

  As the door opened, the darkness seemed to swallow them whole. Runner and Gauge stepped inside, feeling the chill of the necromantic energy that permeated the air. Torches along the walls flickered to life, casting a dim, otherworldly glow on the stone corridors. They could see now that the eyes belonged to a spectral guardian, its ethereal form hovering just above the ground.

  “Follow me,” the guardian intoned, turning and gliding deeper into the pyramid.

  Gauge and Runner exchanged a look of determination and followed the guardian, their footsteps echoing softly in the cavernous halls. As they walked, the walls around them were adorned with ancient hieroglyphs and symbols, telling the story of the necromancers' long and storied past. The air grew colder as they descended further, the pyramid's weight pressing down on them.

  Finally, they reached a grand hall where Talich stood, his imposing figure illuminated by the flickering torchlight. His presence exuded authority and power, and he regarded the newcomers with a piercing gaze.

  “Lord Talich,” Gauge began, bowing respectfully. “We thank you for granting us this audience. We have come to speak with Zavet and bring important news.”

  Talich nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing as he studied them. “Very well. Zavet is here, under my protection. But know this—any threat to him is a threat to us all.”

  Runner and Gauge both nodded, their resolve unshaken. “We understand,” Runner replied. “We only wish to help.”

  Talich’s stern expression softened slightly. “Then speak your news, and let us see what can be done.”

  Talich, still stern, motioned for Runner and Gauge to follow him. He led them through the grand hall and into a dimly lit corridor. The flickering torchlight cast long, wavering shadows on the walls, creating an almost surreal atmosphere. The silence was palpable, broken only by the soft echoes of their footsteps on the stone floor.

  Walking, they passed several chambers filled with ancient relics and artifacts of necromantic power. Shelves lined with dusty tomes, alchemical equipment bubbling with strange liquids, and arcane symbols etched into the stone all attested to the pyramid’s long history and its current purpose.

  Finally, they arrived at a spacious room with several wooden tables. On the tables were loaves of bread and pitchers of water, a simple but welcoming gesture in this austere environment. Talich gestured for Runner and Gauge to sit at one of the tables.

  “Please, make yourselves comfortable,” Talich said, his voice resonating in the stillness. “We will await Zavet here.”

  He then turned to a nearby skeleton guard, clad in dark armor with glowing runes. “Find Zavet and bring him here,” Talich commanded. The guard bowed stiffly and clattered off to carry out the order.

  As Runner and Gauge took their seats, they couldn’t help but take in their surroundings. The room was adorned with more hieroglyphs and ancient carvings, each telling stories of necromancers from ages past. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and a faint, lingering aroma of incense.

  Runner reached for a piece of bread, his hands trembling slightly from the journey. “This place is incredible,” he murmured, breaking the bread and taking a bite. The simple fare was surprisingly fresh, a testament to the guild’s careful maintenance of their supplies.

  Gauge nodded, sipping from a cup of water. “It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. The history here must be immense.”

  Talich watched them with a thoughtful expression, his eyes betraying a hint of curiosity. “Indeed, this pyramid holds many secrets and much power. It is both a sanctuary and a fortress.”

  As they waited, the room’s ambiance seemed to grow more solemn. The flickering torchlight cast a warm glow on the stone walls, creating a sense of timelessness. Runner and Gauge couldn’t shake the feeling that they were at the heart of something ancient and powerful.

  After a short while, footsteps approached. The skeleton guard returned, leading Zavet into the room. Zavet looked around, his eyes bright with curiosity and a hint of excitement. When he saw Runner and Gauge, his face lit up with recognition.

  “Runner! What are you doing here?” Zavet exclaimed, hurrying over to them.

  Runner stood up, embracing Zavet warmly. “We came to find you, Zavet. We have important news.”

  Zavet glanced at Talich, who nodded reassuringly. “It’s okay, Zavet. They are here under my protection.”

  Gauge stepped forward, placing a hand on Zavet’s shoulder. “We need to talk, Zavet. There’s a lot you need to know.”

  Zavet nodded, taking a seat at the table with them. Talich joined them as well, his presence a steadying influence. As the group settled in, the atmosphere in the room shifted from awe to earnest discussion.

  “Let’s hear what you have to say,” Talich said, calm and measured.

  As the group settled around the table, the atmosphere grew tense with anticipation. Talich’s watchful eyes remained on Runner and Gauge, assessing their every move. Runner took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice steady but urgent.

  “Zavet, we’ve come to ask for your help. The king consort, Merlot, wants to reclaim the city. We need to know everything you can tell us about the creature that attacked.”

  Zavet’s eyes brightened with recognition and a touch of nostalgia. He leaned forward, a warm smile spreading across his face. “His name is Iscariot,” Zavet began, his voice filled with a mix of familiarity and concern. “He is from my tribe of people.”

  Runner and Gauge exchanged glances, intrigued by this revelation. Talich listened intently, his expression thoughtful.

  Zavet continued, his tone becoming more serious. “Iscariot is powerful, more so than many realize.”

  Runner leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “What can you tell us about his abilities? Is there anything that might help us understand how to stop him?”

  Zavet nodded, gathering his thoughts. “Iscariot has a unique connection to necromantic energies. He can manipulate them in ways that others can’t. This gives him an edge in battle, allowing him to heal quickly and summon the dead to fight for him.”

  Gauge frowned, deep in thought. “That explains why our forces struggled against him. Is there any way to counteract his abilities?”

  Zavet hesitated, considering the question carefully. “There might be. His strength comes from his connection to the power of the forgotten. If we can disrupt that connection, weaken his hold on those energies, we might stand a chance.”

  Talich, who had been silent until now, spoke up. “Disrupting such a connection would require powerful magic and precise timing. It’s not something to be taken lightly. But if Zavet believes it can be done, we must consider it.”

  Runner nodded determination in his eyes. “We’ll need to plan carefully and gather the right resources. Zavet, will you help us? We can’t do this without you.”

  Zavet’s expression softened, and he touched Runner’s shoulder. “Of course, I’ll help. Iscariot is from my tribe. I don't want him giving us a bad name. I'll tell him to stop being mean.”

  Gauge looked relieved, a smile spreading across his face. “Thank you, Zavet. I'm sure we will get through this with your knowledge,” he said sarcastically.

  Runner laughed, shaking his head at Gauge’s remark. “Zavet's knowledge consists of bugs and smoking fairy wings. We are so dead.”

  Zavet blinked, momentarily confused by the humor. He then chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Hey, bugs can be pretty useful. And those fairy wings are... an acquired taste.”

  Talich stood, commanding the room and bringing a more serious tone to the conversation. “Then it’s settled. We will prepare and gather what we need.”

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  As they began discussing their strategy, Talich detailed the necessary preparations. “We will need powerful wards to protect us from Iscariot’s necromantic powers,” he explained. “Gauge, you must gather the necessary materials for these wards. Runner, you should focus on rallying any additional allies who can join our cause. We will need every bit of strength we can muster.”

  Runner nodded, taking mental notes. “I think I may know someone with some numbers behind them.”

  Gauge’s expression became more thoughtful. “I know a few alchemists who can provide us with potions and elixirs to bolster our defenses and enhance our abilities. I’ll contact them immediately.”

  Talich turned to Zavet, his gaze firm but encouraging. “Zavet, your understanding of Iscariot will be useful. You must help us anticipate his moves and find weaknesses we can exploit.”

  Zavet nodded eagerly, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “I’ll do whatever I can. Iscariot may be strong, but he’s not invincible. We just need to outsmart him.”

  The group continued to plan late into the night, the flickering torchlight casting long shadows on the walls as they discussed every detail. Talich shared his extensive knowledge of necromantic spells and countermeasures, teaching Runner and Gauge what they would face. Zavet offered insights into Iscariot’s behavior and tactics, recalling their shared history and the strengths and weaknesses of their tribe’s abilities.

  Talich stood once more, his voice filled with quiet confidence. “We have our plan. Now, we must act. Prepare yourselves. Go pack anything and everything that you think may help us.”

  Runner, Gauge, and Zavet nodded in unison, their determination mirrored in each other’s eyes.

  Mah’nethotep is standing with his back against the wall, his legs crossed. He chuckles, “The need to summon the heroic souls. It's the only way to get enough manpower to kill him. Zavet, I empowered you at the tournament, which should help you fight the undead. I'll cast some rituals to help with the fight, but I want the kingdom to help me recreate the forgotten.”

  Gauge sighs “I don't have the power to agree to that. I can talk to the queen. That's the best I can offer.”

  Mah’nethotep nods in agreement. “I'll find a way to get my message across.“

  Mah’nethotep looked at Runner and gestured for him to follow. Runner looked at everyone confused but complied, falling into step behind the ancient necromancer. As they walked through the dimly lit corridors of the pyramid, the air was thick with the scent of ancient magic and old secrets. The walls were adorned with intricate carvings and hieroglyphs, whispering tales of times long past.

  “Do you need something from me, sir?” Runner asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and apprehension.

  Mah’nethotep ignored the question, focusing elsewhere. “Ghostfast,” he said, the word hanging heavily in the air. “Your father has a bed chamber within these halls. His equipment is still in there. Tear keeps it polished. It's rightfully yours.”

  Runner’s steps faltered, his mind racing. His father’s legacy had always been a mystery, a void in his life filled with questions and longing. “My father’s... chambers?” he echoed, disbelief mingling with a glimmer of hope.

  Mah’nethotep nodded, his expression inscrutable. “Yes. Your father was a formidable member of our order. His contributions were significant, and his presence is still felt within these walls. You deserve to inherit his legacy.”

  They reached a heavy stone door, its surface etched with runes that glowed faintly. Mah’nethotep placed a hand on the door, and it slowly creaked open, revealing a room bathed in a soft, eerie light. Inside, the chamber was filled with relics of the past: weapons, armor, and various artifacts, each meticulously maintained. A sense of reverence pervaded the room.

  Runner stepped inside, his eyes wide with awe. The chamber was a testament to his father’s prowess and dedication. An ornate suit of armor stood in one corner, its surface gleaming as if freshly polished. Weapons of various shapes and sizes were mounted on the walls, each a masterpiece of craftsmanship.

  Tear, the lich, appeared silently at the doorway, his skeletal form almost blending into the shadows. “I’ve kept everything in perfect condition,” he said, his voice a dry whisper. “Your father’s legacy is something we all respect deeply.”

  Runner turned to Mah’nethotep, emotion welling up in his eyes. “Thank you. I never knew... I never imagined I would find this.”

  Mah’nethotep placed a reassuring hand on Runner’s shoulder. “Your father was a great man; his spirit lives on through you. Use his knowledge and equipment wisely. They will aid you in the battles to come.”

  Runner nodded, feeling renewed purpose and connection to his past. He walked further into the room, touching the armor and weapons with reverence. Each piece seemed to hum with latent power, waiting for its new master to wield it.

  “I will make him proud,” Runner vowed quietly, his voice firm with resolve. “I’ll use his legacy to protect our people and reclaim our city.”

  Mah’nethotep smiled faintly, a rare expression on his usually stoic face. “I have no doubt you will. Now, prepare yourself. The path ahead is fraught with danger, but you are not alone. We will face it together.”

  With a final nod, Mah’nethotep turned and left the room, leaving Runner to explore his father’s legacy in solitude. The chamber, once a silent testament to a forgotten past, now thrummed with the promise.

  Runner picked up a black two-handed sword and examined it, noting the initials TG engraved on the pommel. The sword was a single piece of metal, seamlessly blending the blade and hilt, with the weight tripling where the crossguard would have been. It was a solid, flawless sword, a masterpiece even a master blacksmith would admire. Though he didn't unwrap the hilt, the tang bore his mother's name. Placing the sword back, he turned to the leather armor on the stand.

  The leather armor, deceptively simple, had metal plates underneath, strategically covering vital areas, with studs dotting the exterior for added protection. He packed the armor and sword, then delved into his father's belongings. He found letters, orders, and over a thousand gold coins with a note: "Savings for future retirement." As he read through the letters, tears welled up. His father seemed like a normal person, even a good person. The letters inquired about his missions and spoke of how big Thaine Jr. was getting.

  Runner stared at his name. Thaine. It felt strange, almost foreign. Runner was a nickname he didn't remember its origin, though he recalled his mother calling him that. Or did she? Memories blurred, leaving him in a haze. He continued reading, finally seeing his mother's name, Thalindra. He traced his finger over her name, tears streaming down his face. Sitting on the bed, he broke down, the weight of his past and the revelation of his parents' identities overwhelming him.

  This moment of vulnerability led to a decision. Runner resolved to become a dark knight. The honor and strength of his father, combined with the mystery of his mother's legacy, fueled his determination. He would protect the innocent and uphold justice using his inherited skills and knowledge.

  His mind raced with thoughts of the battles ahead, the training he needed, and the allies he had to gather. He knew the path wouldn't be easy, but the legacy he discovered provided the strength and motivation he needed. Runner's tears dried as resolve hardened within him. He would honor his parents' memories and carve his path, one forged in the crucible of his newfound identity.

  As he packed the last of his father's belongings, he took one final look around the room, now a shrine to the man he never truly knew but deeply respected. His heart ached with loss and pride, and he silently vowed to live up to the legacy left behind. He stood tall, his grip on the black sword firm and resolute, and walked out of the chamber, ready to embrace his destiny as a dark knight.

  Emerging from the chamber, Runner felt a profound sense of purpose. In the hallway, he met Mah'nethotep, who seemed to sense the transformation within him. “I see you’ve found what you needed,” the master said, his voice a mix of approval and curiosity.

  Runner nodded, his expression determined. “Yes. I’ve found my purpose. I will become a dark knight—and honor my father’s legacy.”

  Mah’nethotep’s eyes gleamed with understanding. “Very well. Embrace your destiny, Thaine. The battles ahead will be challenging, but I have no doubt you will rise to the occasion.”

  Runner smirked at hearing someone call him Thaine. “You know my name, huh.”

  Mah’nethotep turned to face him fully, a stern yet knowing look in his eyes. “You may call me Master or Lord Mah’nethotep, but never huh. I make a point to know all of my knights, young man. I always ensure my knights and their families are taken care of. It’s why you made it out of our first encounter alive. I knew you then.”

  Runner’s smirk faded into a look of curiosity and respect. “What do you mean?”

  Mah’nethotep continued, his voice carrying the weight of his centuries of experience. “Do you think that test was for Zavet? It was for you. You put up a better fight than two fully trained knights. You and Zavet are truly special. While he is powerful in magic and will be a force on his own, your heart is just as strong.”

  Runner stood a little taller, absorbing the words. He had always felt like an outsider, but here was someone acknowledging his potential and strength.

  “To be honest,” Mah’nethotep said, a rare smile crossing his lips, “only an idiot would bet on a fight between you two. The only winner of that fight would be the witnesses who got far enough away.”

  Runner chuckled at the thought, his confidence growing. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Lord Mah’nethotep.”

  Mah’nethotep nodded, a smile lingering on his face. “Remember, Runner, your journey is just beginning. Embrace your father's legacy and forge your path with the strength of your heart and the skills you’ve acquired. Together, we will reclaim what is rightfully ours.”

  With those words, Mah’nethotep turned and began returning to the meeting chamber, his robes flowing behind him like shadows. Runner followed, his mind buzzing with newfound determination and purpose.

  As they walked through the ancient corridors, Runner couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging. Once a place of mystery and fear, the pyramid now felt like a sanctuary where he could grow and learn. He glanced at the sword and armor he carried, symbols of his father’s legacy and his future as a dark knight.

  When they reached the meeting chamber, Runner saw the others waiting. Talich, Zavet, Gauge, and Tear looked up as Mah’nethotep and Runner entered. The room seemed to buzz with anticipation and energy.

  Mah’nethotep took his place at the head of the table, his presence commanding respect.

  The group gathered around the table, ready to strategize and plan. The air was thick with unity and purpose as they discussed their next steps.

  Mah’nethotep laid out a city map, pointing to key locations and discussing their tactical significance. “We’ll need to secure these areas first,” he said. “Runner, your knowledge and skills will be crucial in executing this plan.”

  Gauge pointed to the map spread out on the table. “The kingdom has a plan,” he said, his finger tracing strategic locations marked in red. “But I'm sure they won't turn down help. Just, for the love of the moons, please don't send undead.”

  Talich laughed heartily, the sound echoing through the ancient chamber. “Yeah, and it’s best for you, Master, to stay here. You must rebuild your strength since you lost much of your power when the Forgotten fell.”

  Mah’nethotep nodded, his eyes narrowing as he considered the implications. “I was only going to observe from a distance,” he said, his voice resonating with authority and exhaustion.

  Runner nodded, absorbing the information and contributing his insights. The team worked late into the night, each member bringing unique strengths.

  As the meeting drew close, Mah’nethotep looked around the room, his eyes filled with a rare warmth. “Together, we will succeed. This is the first step in rebuilding the forgotten.”

  With renewed determination, the group dispersed, each member ready to take on the challenges ahead. They stood and began gathering their supplies. Gauge looked to the group, saying, “By the time we get there, Krimlond will be ready to reclaim their keep. Oh! Lord Mah’nethotep, can you supply us with a few basic ritual scrolls? All of ours are in our keep.”

  Mah’nethotep nodded in agreement and turned to Tear. “Can you give Gauge your traveling ritual book?”

  Tear agreed and went to retrieve it. As everyone finished packing, Tear returned with the book in hand. He approached Gauge and handed it over. “Phantom Whispers, Ritual Wards, Cure Curse, Cure Taint, Remove Command. This should do it.”

  Gauge accepted the book with a grateful nod. “Thank you, Tear. These will be invaluable.”

  Talich finished securing his gear and addressed the group. “We have everything we need. Let’s move out and join Krimlond.”

  Runner glanced around at his companions, feeling a sense of unity and purpose. “Let’s do this.”

  Mah’nethotep watched them with a mixture of pride and hope. “May the moons guide you all. Stay vigilant and work together. ” With final preparations complete, the group set out.