The vast subterranean labyrinths concealed in the darkest depths of the earth were Aranter's domain. A colossal, powerful guardian, he had withstood ages of isolation, serving as the keeper of a forgotten world. His form was a monstrosity of stone and earth, his strength seemingly invincible. However, this strength came at a cost—Aranter was haunted by an emptiness that gnawed at his very being. Over time, the unending monotony of guarding the depths wore on his mind.
One fateful day, a party of adventurers—heroes from all races—broke into his lair. They came with grand designs, ready to conquer what they perceived as a relic of an old, forgotten era. With swords imbued with ancient magic and the cunning of an experienced tactician, they set their sights on the mighty guardian. The leader of the group, an old mage, wielded magic that could disrupt even the most hardened flesh.
The battle raged for what seemed like an eternity. Aranter fought valiantly, slamming into the adventurers with the weight of the world, his strength undeniable. But then came the turning point—a spell, unholy and devastating, that pierced through his stone hide, striking to the core of his power. His immense form buckled under the weight of the magic, and Aranter fell to the ground, his strength evaporating.
In his final moments, surrounded by the triumphant heroes, a voice echoed within his fading consciousness.
"Do you seek revenge?"
A surge of anger rose within him, overshadowing the crushing despair of his death. Yes. He would return. He would become more powerful, and they would all suffer.