2 Cavern of Vengeance [I]

It was a starry night as always. Cottages lined around the stone brick walls with wooden fences surrounding them showed the daily lives of the people. Cows and pigs slept next to one another to stay with one another where night prowlers looked awfully hungry at them.

"Can't believe we're still in this deadbeat job. I swear the moment I get my salary, I'm leaving this joint."

A man wearing a simple chainmail breastplate along with a gilded metal caps yawned in a boorish manner.

"Yeah sure, how long has it been since you've last said that? Oh yeah last month, get over it."

Another stood behind the man in a similar fashion, both being city patrols in this dead city.

When was the last time this city ever became bustling? Yeah, even if the mayor is quite corrupt, that shouldn't mean an entire town should be like this.

All of this was strange to the men guarding the walled-off manor set beside the wall and up against a slanted hill.

The guard shifted his gaze back at the gate and saw several windows with no lights on, strange that a house fit for living was void of all views of life.

Sir Von Claude had never left the compound for quite a while and was last seen two years ago, now he only sends his guidance scholars to do his bidding.

Heck, it was even a fair statement that they have never seen their mayor, the one that has to care for them politically and economically at points.

All was stranged and a weather phenomenon appeared causing all to go hazy in the depths of night.

But secretly hidden in the shadows, a tunnel built underneath the manor, a devious plot was at play.

Hundreds of bags were strewn about atop hooks built across the walls. Some leaked a strange black liquid and others squirmed about.

Every so often, men dressed in silken pure black robes would take the buckets and leave.

Everything was run as a farm to these people. One of the bags that squirmed managed to unlatch itself from the hook, causing it to crash towards the ground.

A gush was heard and the bag was torn from the impact. A lump of flesh with limbs and other body parts scrambled about on the surface.

Mouths were letting out shrieks but soon became the result of gurgles followed by blood.

The sounds stopped to just a muffled sound as it attempted to make a sound, but before it could do so, a man impaled the monstrosity and was left slumped on the floor.

This was the place they live in, just an ordinary life for the acolytes following under Nyrodd.

Just deeper beneath was where Nyrodd slept upon his throne. An elf who was expelled from graduating as his primary thesis used the Dark Arts and the stigma behind it. His advocation of the arts led him to ruin not only his reputation but his status as a talented sorcerer.

But now everything changed when his corrupted heart had done in for the better. Nyrodd fully integrated the Dark Arts into his body and achieved an immortal soul where he could move around in vessels.

An achievable feat with hundreds of years of research had allowed him to even conjure a school and the domination of the Mayor of Darkwoods.

In the room he resided inlaid just a roll of red engraved carpets of decor and a throne made of bone; a grotesque sight to see as some of the bone still had sinews of flesh throughout. Some could see the throne pulsate.

"Servants, do we have any updates of the subjects yet?"

A man clad in dark robes wandered out of the darkness with a dark miasma following soon after, a skill that Nyrodd had practiced for months on end and achieved in creating autonomous puppets that do his bidding. Even the Mayor was replaced by such after he was used for research for his students; likeminded as he.

Nyrodd watched with his complacent eyes at his level and the level of his servant.

[Nyrodd Salkar - Lvl 18 Necromancer]

[Dark Servant - Lvl 5 Enslaved Soul]

"Ah~!" He let out a small moan of ecstasy; drowning of his own achievements from the inflated ego that took shape of his pride.

"...Nothing sir, all of the subjects were either too weak or failed the requisites"

Nyrodd's behavior soon turned for the worst.

"Fascinating..." The level of annoyance voided all his features of happiness he once deployed. All that remained was a pestering body of students who failed his tasks.

"Encourage them to work harder. If they don't that's fine, they can be wonderful nutrients for my pets."

"Of course sir...."

The shadow dissipated in the air, letting out a small chain of dark smog and whispering as he left the main chamber of the proclaimed King of the Dead.

Nyrodd soon slouched down to continue plotting his next step for his goal. To show his masters that they were wrong and have them plead under his feet. But his once plotting mind caused him to fantasize them as his loyal servants, a small bulge of enjoyment down on his undergarments. People could hear strange moans at night, the rumored howls of a ghost left out the chamber and echoed everywhere in its vicinity.

-

Up beneath the chambers of Nyrodd was a jail of sorts. Bars made of Iron and other metals blocked off certain areas of the room.

But this was certainly not a prison to put captive prisoners. They were all the failed experiments of the 'perfect' homunculi. A magical experiment set on making the first artificial being that had the basis of intelligence

Beasts of unknown shape were not known whether that they were living, or a dormant pale soul that inhabited the rotting flesh.

A creature shared many features of animals foretold in its creation while some could not. A turtle's carapace was situated as its torso where crab-like claws replaced all four limbs with a head formed out of multiple other heads. Mouths were placed in strange areas and some seams struggled to keep everything in one piece. The beast let out a huge cry of the creator that made them this way.

Though the creature was definitely an absurdity, some of the other experiments looked perfectly fine but lifeless.

All of their eyes void of light or in a numbing stare into nothingness. One of them was much shorter than the rest but didn't really stand out.

With a body of unknown origin, scales were spread about his body and his head was that of a lizard with a cleft lower jaw, adding weight to his body. It had noticed every creature around him in the same stupor and resumed to act in this way, his 'birth' was just like the others, nurtured by man or more importantly his students under orders.

A sense of feeling of not one's home was felt common as evident the body of the artificial life instilled with a soul of another could make up for it.

What was he before? More questions would appear in his mind but everything felt weird, a huge gnawing ache to his head; Or he didn't have the brain capacity to think of more. But he was able to keep a part of himself like all monsters all had

What he did want was to survive, an instinct he felt now and here, imitating the beasts near him so he wasn't the odd one out. And a burning hatred bestowed upon his mortal flesh to cause destruction against the human race. Something his tiny body wouldn't be able to fully identify what it was. If it weren't for the Gods who made them this way, who else would? The hatred of humans from a God was enough to set these creatures to go against them.

Every now and then he could see some of the creatures near him of all shapes and sizes who were severely different were shot by bright lights before they become lifeless. As if their lives were stolen in the blink of an eye.

A tall being who only stood with four of its legs and black slick skin would wander around and observe them at certain points. One came in just now with a slab of white coarse material before leaving.

The monster let out a sigh and hatred fully emanated from its body. He truly did not belong here or so he thought as he observed his surroundings. His small body was enough to get through the gaps of the bars but a strange blue static light and blue hue caused him to say otherwise. His eyes could sense something in the bars that would cause him to not make such a rash intuition. His capacity soon met different as he observed once more, a strange slab of wood caught his eyes multiple times and curiosity would always drive him towards it. But in order to keep its life, it had done everything to secure it.

A long drawn out silence caused him to be able to sense the safety of its surroundings as it decided to leave his comfort zone in order to identify what it was.

A strange box of some sort consisting of a bending slab inlaid with multiple other slabs of more malleable materials. It was evidently a book but his knowledge of books was null to even identify what it was.

What laid before him and why does none of the 'caretakers' do anything about it.

But something for sure, a strange red hue would cause glimmering lights in his eyes, a sense of calling of power he never felt before, something that might him later on the road. But he couldn't put his claw what it was on about.