Walking Tomb Dreng

As the Castellan of Narbuk, it was Artorax’s duty to guard the tunnels that radiated from the Cult of K’Leth’s headquarters, those catacombs and crypts that extended like an ant warren beneath the ruins of the city. Assuming this station to be a safe and unchallenging one, Artorax had campaigned to secure it for himself and was proud of his grand new title. But all too quickly he tired of his work. The monotony of patrolling crumbling corridors and watching over musty tombs became unbearable and he longed to escape, but he knew that if he failed at his duties, he would be expelled from the cult and lose his chance for immortality. Spending his every moment with the dead sent Artorax’s mind spinning, and he began to think of a way to escape his lot. Necromancers sometimes visited the tombs, and Artorax sought out one of the most skilled, offering her wealth he did not own in exchange for her services. Together they gathered body parts from the crypt and using the dark magics of soul gems to subvert the ritual of soul transmission, they set about conjuring a creature to take Artorax’s place. The result was a golem – a large, sewn-together corpse which took its life force from the fraction of Artorax’s essence that he and the necromancer had buried within it. When the creature came to life and Artorax’s soul was wrenched apart, Artorax screamed with agony, but his yearning for freedom was great and he held fast as the grotesque creature rose. The golem was crude and lumbering but it knew its purpose and obeyed Artorax’s commands. Elated at his apparent success, Artorax departed Narbuk, leaving the creature to patrol the depths in his stead. He called his creation, the Walking Tomb Dreng. Years passed and Artorax reveled in his new life of freedom. But his sleep was haunted by visions of the tombs and tunnels of Narbuk, and he found himself perpetually cold, unable to warm himself with the heat of fire. There was no denying that his necromancy had not set him free at all, and he could still feel within him the part of his soul that still wandered the chilly catacombs. Castellan of Narbuk was his title, and Castellan of Narburk he still remained. Artorax knew he must return to Narbuk to reclaim his soul fragment. He waited many long nights before finding a necromancer who reluctantly agreed to attempt a ritual to reclaim Artorax’s soul. But the magic they produced was not great enough to overthrow the physical might of the Walking Tomb Dreng. As the sorcerer fled, the Walking Tomb Dreng muzzled Artorax in a hood of iron akin to that it wore. Sensing the other part of its soul was close, the creature craved to be whole again. It strapped the struggling Knight Revenant to an ancient, elaborate chair and affixed it to its back, then, finally content, the Tomb Dreng resumed its walking. Those few desperate souls who have reason to travel into Narbuk without the Cult of K’Leth’s consent tell dreadful tales of muffled, despairing screams, accompanied by the slow thumping of heavy footfalls, the scrape of armor against stone, and the flicker of flame. Artorax’s horror at his imprisonment rings through the catacombs he was once custodian of, but his struggles are in vain, for his mind and soul remain fused with the dead thing he created. It pursues intruders relentlessly through the maze of cobwebbed chambers and dank, narrow passageways, until it finds its mark with the great, flaming swords it carries. Knights Revenant talk of Artorax’s fate with wariness, for his has become a cautionary tale within the cult, eternal proof that none but the Soul Shepherds should dare meddle with the magics of the soul gems or the rituals of transmutation. On occasion the Walking Tomb Dreng will be persuaded to come forth and do battle alongside other Knights Revenant, or even other forces, while Artorax’s howls for assistance from his former allies go unheeded. At battle’s close, however, the Walking Tomb Dreng always returns to Narbuk’s frozen darkness and the duties for which it was created – to guard the cult’s secrets for eternity.