Groaning, the sound of stone scrapping upon stone as massive bricks were hauled into place. Undead hands carried by shambling feet pulled and pushed. Building mausoleums, temples and statues and all other manner of great works preparing for their king's day of ascension.
At the end of the broad Main Street flanked by pillared multi story buildings. Rows upon rows of kneeling figures, hundreds of milky eyed pale gaunt faces absent of consciousness or soul sat in a mockery of prayer hands clasped together puppeteered by a once benevolent man.
To where they faced up the steps of a golden throne accented with fine fabrics and wilted flowers sat Kaius Carthus. King of the southern kingdom of Dynatus, mad man and necromancer, lord of all undead.
He wore dark green embroidered robes beneath a golden chest plate which had large ovular holes revealing his bare ribs and beating heart underneath.
Upon his hands were golden rings with gems, the skin of the outer side of his palms were peeled away exposing bone. And on his head he wore a skeletal helmet with a round plume crowning it mimicking a halo which hid his white hair.
This was not a choice of fashion made in his delusions of grandeur but rather it is the traditional helmet of the Carthus royal family. The kingdom of Dynatus was once known as the holy kingdom and home to the church of lights central cathedral, host to the holy priestess of light.
A woman who Kaius committed a cardinal sin by murdering along with two of the church's four wings. Helmos the second wing and Arteus the third wing, and afterwards raised the holy site to the earth.
For some time he had been slumbering on his throne searching for something. Something which in his own words could not be found by looking for it.
Only waking at odd intervals to oversee his kingdom, and not always did he have his mind when he awoke, sometimes speaking cryptically or lacking any memories until returning to his searching sleep.
An imposing and grotesque form over twenty feet long slithered down the central avenue to the foot of the throne. An undead abomination, a champion, but not a general.
Four armed and grey skinned with the lower body of a snake are up by grafted together muscle and skin, jutting from its shoulders was head of long blonde hair that when compared to its monstrous body looked comical.
He held a large twin blade made of thick iron was as long as two men in his right hand. Well polished steel platemail covered his arms and torso.
It made a motion to kneel or at least bow considering one cannot kneel without knees.
"Lord, Dimitrios has fallen. He has been stolen from us by the pretender in heaven." He reported without emotion voice ringing against the metal of his cross visored helm.
A long silence reigned. "No." Kaius announced his soft voice breaking the silence. With an outstretched finger he pointed upwards to something only he could see, a sin which shone only to his eyes.
A sea of swirling green filled with a myriad of white orbs, the bound souls of countless people who he was denying the right to pass on, to be at peace, creating a hell above the grand city of Caellum. Cruelly ironic considering the capital's name means heaven.
"Dimitrios is here, he has not been stolen away from us. Even in slumber I protect my adherents." Kaius lowered his hand. "What other news?"
"I have lost his trail, lord." A loud thump sounded from the throne as Kaius peered down, his blue eyes filled with malice. "You have the most important of tasks Renatus. Will you betray me once more?" His voice was calm but his displeasure clear.
"No, lord." Renatus knew his king was not just angry but desperate, as was he himself. He wished to right his wrongs from sixty years ago when he stood against his lords plans, it was by his own hand Kaius was sent to undeath unaware that's what he'd planned to become from the start.
Kaius rose, his gold mail clanking as he descended the steps to sternly cup the face of his champion, his voice as stern as his grip.
"He yet persists. For his soul not to appear to me must mean he has freed himself of my control completely." He said turning to gaze up at his throne.
"Only one of my line could do such a thing. It must be him, he must at last be awake. Afraid. Lost." his voice struck with severity, hands curling into a fist as he returned his gaze to lock eyes with Renatus.
"Double your efforts, be as a mad beast on the hunt and find him. Find my child and bring him home to me. Return your young lord whom you swore to protect. Even if he cuts you to pieces, on the feet of your marrow bring Anastasius home."
Renatus bowed acknowledging his lords missive, and began slithering away toward the north, swearing to find his little liege. The boy who he carried on his back around the palace gardens, the boy he'd visit when his sickly nature overwhelmed him, the boy he sent away from the kingdom in the wake of his fathers madness.
The one who is revered as the most powerful undead.