"Strong and just, what champion will you make?" A mysterious figure with the voice of a woman's whisper stands over a lifeless body. Removing her mask she breathes her power into the young man and walks away, leaving him to be carried away by more shrouded figures. The figures carry the young man away from the chamber through what seemed like a carved out storehouse and placed him next to others that had been brought in by the respective hooded figures. No one spoke, no noise was made. The hooded figures only laid the bodies next to each other in certain rows and departed. As soon they were done each group would douse their torches and seal their tunnels to the storehouse. Their jobs completed they returned to the original chamber and began to circle and began their ritual, each taking their dagger across the chest and then piercing their heart at once with the exception of one. They all said the same words and committed the act themselves. "With our blood, our lord's name will be eternal, our sacrifice ultimate, or regrets non-existent." As their dagger plunged their hearts and drain their blood power flowed through the lifeless bodies of those they just sealed into the storeroom moments later. Hours go by, they turn in days, days to months, months to years. Every once in a few months a small number of the hundreds possibly thousands of bodies awake and move to the world. Its been so long since the bodies of the priest who performed the ritual rotted to dust. Years upon years pass, finally John breathes deep. "Gasps... did I stop breathing in my sleep?" Wheezing gasping can be heard from others as well. John's heart races as he looks around but only sees pitch black, no lights could be seen. "Is someone else there?" A young woman cried nearby. "Whose that!" a rather angry response quickly came with other confused grunts and gasps. "How many of us are there?" John thought as he attempted to rise to his feet. "Watch yourself the ceiling is low." A calm voice spoke next to him, "You can see?" John breathes deep. "Only a little my eyes are adjusting slowly." John's eyes begin to do the same and he sees laying next to him a person, except this person seems to be dead. He spots another, and then other others begin to see this as well. "Where are we a tomb!" one begins to shout nearby and panicked begins to ensue. John had calmed sense of hearing the voice beside him and such a manner. He had stopped listening to others squabble and cry and began to look for a way out. "What are you doing." A third voice directly behind the two finally spoke. A feminine voice with a harsh accent, just as calm as the two in front of her. "Looking for a way out." Is all John spoke to her. "I see your eyes are as good as mine." The calming man said to the woman. She ignored him and put her eyes on John, "Find anything just standing there or are you just going to act like you know what are you doing?" John ignored the woman and focused on the task at hand. He started to feel air moving across his face. "You two may want to cover your ears." Was the only warning John gave the two before he breathed in deep into his lungs and let out an ear ringing shout. Whether instilling fear or composure it did its job, everyone became silent as John let out a roar demanding their attention. The room fell quiet everyone's hair stands on the back of their necks from the presence they all feel now demanding their full attention. "There is a draft coming from the direction of my voice when you're ready to make your way to it, I'm getting out of this place." John didn't wait for a response and began walking to the breeze that blew in. He could hear the other two behind him as he made his way into a dim-lit tunnel. Air turned cold and the ground wet.