Deth's Demise: The origin of Deth and the Necropolis

The old man traversed the hallways of his ancient abode. The planks creaked as treaded his way through the walls, lined with ancient mementos, heirloom and pictures of his family. He opened the front door, the chill in the morning shocking his grey beard with a small layer of frost.He pulled his cloak on more tightly and pulled down the cowl of his black hood. He brought out a large shovel and slung it over his back as he walked across the hollowed ground laden with tombstones.

He knelt near a plot with a large tomstone inscribed Julie Grimcloak with a smaller plot beside it reading Abigail Grimcloak."Hello luv." The man said eyes glistening and managing a smile, "How's our litttle angel doing?"

It has been at 2 years since Nethenial's wife and daughter died in the great exodus to Brackenridge. Since then, he drew inward, secluding himself from the everyday hubbub of life in the village. Many thought the old man fled to the cemetery in despair, hoping to find the means of bringing his family back in the dark, dead aura of the cemetery.

But that was far from the truth.Though after a long duration of heart-racking mourning and terrible grievance, Neth was able to come to terms with his loss and acknowledge it as a part of life.Moreover, he learned that the dead, after going through the trials and challenges of life, deserve respite.So to protect his family unlike he was able to before, he moved to the cemetery, as groundskeeper and gravedigger to halt whatever may trespass the hallowed grounds and enact proper burial rituals to let he dead stay dead.

He sniffed the air, the acrid smoke of burning wood hung to the thick morning mist.He stood and faced east, to the sight of the village looming below the high rise of the cemetery.Small glows burned through the thick shroud with penetrating light.He pulled out his shovel and gripped it tightly."Don't worry Julie, I won't let them take our family again." He said resolutely as a figure began loomed in the winding path to reach the grounds."Who goes there!" Neth's demanding voice boomed.

"HELP! VILLAGE IS UNDER ATTAACK! ", the frantic villager screamed as he approached Nethenial.He bent over taking ragged breathes as Neth plant his shovel into the ground and leaned on it."Thank goodness I found you Neth!" Which was strange many people weren't glad to be in the company of the gravemaker.

"What is it, John?", Neth asked in reply, remembering him from last week when he came to bury his aunt.

"You know of Lord Drakeula and his ill, bedridden wife?"
"Yes,"
"Drakeula has gotten desperate for a cure and has enlisted the aid of dark sorcerors. Sadly they can't cure her but they can prevent her dying by turn both of them immortal."
Neth silently muttered a curse, he hated it when people temper things beyond reckoning."Go on."
"So they're harvesting souls, killing people , burning down the village and are coming for the place which has the most souls stored, the souls of the dead, the..."
"Graveyard, " Neth completed as he gazed back at the village,"John, get to safety . I am not standing down. "John did as told and quickly made his way through a back entry in the area.

It was not long after till Drakeula's army arrived, with rows of soldiers cladded in gray armor with a bat emblazoned on the left of their chestplate and carrying banners with the bat sigil. On the front stood rows of a dozen wizards, each cladded in a black robe, wth death runes glowing with an unholy green glow, holding long staffs brandishing skulls or demonic gems and in front of them stood lord Drakeula's tall regal figure.

Neth swung his shovel in a threatening gesture, "Leave now or suffer the consequences! "

Drakeula laughed at the foolish stand of the insolent figure, he had an army of his mightiest warriors and most cunning and powerful sorcerors and this lone groundskeeper thought he could stop him? "Nothing will stand in my way,surrender and I will offer you a quick death."

But Nethenial wasn't one to back down.

Drakeula decided to dispatch of this meager resistance quickly.He ordered his wizard council to dispatch of him quickly.A line of ornamented staffs were risen and glowed with spectral power, as their wielder began chanting and summoning the forsaken powers of undeath.

But nothing happened. They were met with silence and tombstones pulsating with a blue light . Neth formed an insolent smile, angering Drakeula. "The dead, shall remain buried." He challenged.

"Charge! Destroy the tombstones!", Drakeula ordered, as lines of armor-clad warriors filed around the line of sorcerors and charged , swords and shields, maces and cudgels raised to destroy the stones.

But Neth fended them off, killing the oncoming soldiers one by one with ruthless efficiency as he swung his shovel in masterful swipes and strikes preventing them from even scratching the markers. In the heat of battle, Neth heard howls of wolves behind his back as two massive figures took him to the ground. Two wolves, sank their fangs onto his fore-arm and calf, tackling him. He pushed back the wolves, with woulds bleeding at an fatal rate and excruciating pain that would shred a normal man.

He turned and saw the wolves scurry back to a large looming figure, a plated massive brute like those vikings of Nordr, armed with a ferocious pack of wolves and a viciously sharp serrated blade dripping with blood and poison. He swung it with chest-splitting might nearly maiming Neth and the two foes locked into duel.

It was difficult fending of the onslaught of attackers from the tombstones and surviving this behemoth of a brute, but Neth managed...the best that he could anyways. They managed to break some of the inhibiting runed stones and slowly the dark sorcerors managed to recite few necromantic spells and slowly summon the dead into living.

Soon all fire was focused on Neth, as he was bombarded with strikes of steel, flying spears and entropic bursts of fire rendering his flesh and practically peeling it off, it was a miracle he survived all that exposure to death magic and wounds in general

But his end soon followed. He swung too far in with his shovel, leaving himself open . His brutish adversary took his chance and impale him in the stomach. He staggered back as five spears followed, skewering him one after another with the gut-wrenching sound as it smashed through his bones.

Nethenial fell to his knees planting his shovel on the ground and grasping it. His eyes were wide with pain as he saw Drakeula walk to him.The tall lord held Neth by his chin. "You're persistence has made it hell but also interesting. Therefore, I will reward
you with the sight of your own home ... destroyed!"

Then the army smashed all tombstones, defiled the sacred ground as they trampled it their iron-shodden boots and set Neth's home on fire. The dried wood quickly burst into inferno as Neth saw all his work, all of his efforts purged and razed.

The last thing he saw was all the troops, forming together in front of his wife's and daughter's plot as they swung their maces and began dismantling.Then with Drakeula's malicious laugh, his world turned black with the crunch of his crushed skull.

END OF PART 1

was this...death?Neth barely managed to form his thought as his very essence writhed in agony. Unimaginable pain surged across what would have been his body but now an ethereal coagulation moving quickly through a downward spiral.It was as if he was crashing through a building and was catching a glimpse of every floor. He sqw a land engulfed with fire and demonic figures marching, another land of shadows with purple skies and blue-skinned inhabitants, and a land of tranquil forest and groves with elves. Was this the rest all living were destined to see? He woud soon learn as he hit the end of the spiral. Hard.

Neth groggily shooks his head, he tried to blink his eyes when he realised he didn't have them.He looked at his hands, now black bones cleaned of flesh and skin cold to touch. He touched his face amd felt the cold smoothness of his face. He stood up and looked around. He could a large flock of people, dead probably, walking towards a vague direction. Without any other option, he walked towards the shambling crowd.

As they all walked, Neth observed the deceased party . Some were zombies, still made of flesh but with a pale skin and mouths blood red. Some were transparent ghosts, tangible items stuck on their body as if a reminder of the means of their death. Yet none resembled the bony cadaver that is now Neth's new form.

Soon they reached the end of their travels. A network of steel barely resembling a gate welcome them,a large maelstrom of energy frothed with an eerie green light could be seen which Neth sooned learned once entering it was the center of the town. Neth looked around taking in more of his dystopian surroundings. Malformed buildings brushed against each other in crooked angles. Many of the dead sat in their melancholy in small bunches as others wailed and ran erratically into the maelstrom or into the other gate leading into a vast wooded area. A pain stung Nethenial in his chest, the same pain he'd had when his wife and daughted died, the same pain when he saw his home razed. He rotated trying, hoping to see his family, a tiny glimpse at least. But destiny was cruel and he pulled his cowl down and tucked his hands in his sleeves as he joined the mournful dead.

After what seemed like hours, came a sharp shrill sound. Neth turned towards the tune as the rest jsut looked down as if they had not heard it. Then it came again the song, rang with ringing clarity as the notes rised filled with cheer and energy and fell like a wave. It was different, to say the least it was..lively.

Neth stood up and followed the music until he happened on the maker of the music . The musician's get up was a stark contrast to the drab crowd of dead and lights of green. He was dressed like a regular bard, minus most of the fluff and frill, with a silver garb with a flowing cape. His hat was pointed and adorned with 2 feathers. The man himself had a scrawny build, one ment for nimble precision. He stopped playing and looked at Neth with a mischievous smile and eyes pulsating with hangig colour as if the building that neth crashed through was contained in him. "Hello there."
"Hey," Neth replied.

A moment of awkward silence passed before Neth decided to press his query." Where am I?"
"Right, welcome to the Necropolis! The place where you soul goes to do afterlife stuff, it's been a litttle down due to the new management. "
"Who's the management? "
"That's the thing, here hasn't been anyone in charge for a few aeons since the reaper's passing."
"And they are?"
"They were the original necropolis guardians, guiding spirits in their way to here . They have been dormant for reasons unknown. "
"If all souls come here, where is my family?"
"That's tough to say. They either could have wandered into another realm, or lost in the necropolis woods or gotten sucked up in a necromancer's summon."

Then a though sprung into Neth's mind, "What happened to Drakeula and his wife?"
The bard shook his head in a negating nod. "That is a sad story. His army collected enough souls but by the time they enacted the ritual, the lady was unable to withstand the entropic energy and exploded, infecting a wide radius of people and changing their forms into horrid nightmare beings."

Neth cursed silently as he heard the catastrophic results of this failed rituals. All that slaughter and death, for more death and slaughter. "What then?", he asked afraid of knowing the answer but hoping that Drakeula would stop after the failed ritual that costed him.

"Then the man completely lost it. He commanded his armies to purge down whatever life there was in the area and oher neighboring towns and hamlets and resurrected the dead to join his army."

" Something must be done!"

"And who'll do it exactly? You saw everyone here wallowing in pity as they now spend the rest of their life..erm..afterlife feeling sorry for themselves, reminiscing their past life."

Wow that's depressing . I thought bards were suppose to be cheerful and inspiring, Neth silently thought as he looked at his macabre surroundings. They didn't just missed the music in their sadness they missed a chance. "My job in protecting he dead isn't over yet."

"You don't have anymore graves to dig and everything you did is now buried like you, This is a storm that even the deceased cannot escape. How can you, a lone digger without his shovel stand in this flood?"

Neth turned and face the maelstrom that raged in unending torment."I go to the eye of the storm."

"It's your funeral"

"Then play a memorable requiem." Neth replied walking, eyes set at the distant funnel of death.

END OF PART 2

Neth stared into what was the means of oblivion yet at the same time his salvation. He took in a deep breath, not that it would do him any good, being dead and all. The dead roused from their depression to spectate the suicidal skeleton. Interesting things rarely happened in the necropolis but this one promised to be one to excite. Neth pulled down his cowl, crossed his arms and tucked his hands under his sleeves as he marched towards the tornado of damnation.

He did not look back as he saw the wall of wailing spirits in front of him. He took a step and entered into the event horizon.This was the point of no return. He took weighty steps as if he was wading through a river, going against the current. He could barely look as the howling vortex ripped at him, shredding his robe and even chipping away at his bones. The howling intensified the further he advanced, he could discern words and phrases ranging from warningsTURN BAAAAACK!, to threats COME CLOSER SO I CAN RIP YOUR SOUL!, to just plain trolls Please sir, may I have gold?

Neth was caught off-guard by the last one as he tripped and fell. He scurried up as he gazed across the ground, littered with tattered shreds of clothes, broken bones and skulls. He looked around frantically, panic overwhelming him as he began to notice faces contorted with agony and torment, writhing in the thick wall of the maelstrom. He collapsed once again to his knees. Dread consuming his nerves as raspy voices whispered into his ears. Take rest now, you have nothing to worry, nothing to fight for, nothing to lose...

Then Neth instantly kicked himself up. He wasn't going just sit there listening to some disembodied voice telling him to quit. In life he lost much, in death, he had so much more to lose. He wasn't going to spend the rest of eternity moping about in dismay waiting to fade away. He trudged on with heavy steps, bones creaking and crunching under his footfall, getting more angered hisses as if he was challenging them. Soon he approached what seemed to be the center of the maelstrom. The ground was barren with no sign of life or even death. Levitating above with a small vortex encasing it was a strange book. Neth walked closer and was able to distinguish details somewhat resembling a grinning face.

Whether it was his imagination or not, Neth heard a deranged laugh urging him even closer. With steady, calculated steps he advanced. He put his hands forward, trying to grab it. His hands pierced through the thin veil of deathly wind and grasped the book. His arms trembled as the smile like impression began to glow with sinister intent. Necrotic energies surged into his forearms , threatening to consume him.

He would have been cremated if the reapers had not intervened.

With a large explosion, Neth was knocked back out and landed with a large THWUMP! He shook his head as he stood up, the book strangely still in his hand. He stood in line with the gawking dead, as he saw the mother of nightmares.

The funnel began to dissipate as ghostly appartions took shape. Large cloaked figure with its robe dragging across the ground, bony clawed fingers grasped a long obsidian black scythe, and grim hood that put its face in shadow, with ghastly green eyes piercing through it. The reaper has come.

With millions smaller wraiths and reapers orbiting the spectre as it made its way. Neth stood still, steeling his nerves for this unhallowed confrontation. The others shuffled away from him, unwilling to be close to the unfortunate soul. "Speaaak," the reaper said with a shrill raspy voice. "Who hass brought usss heeeere!?"

All fingers pointed at Neth, literally. He stood there with annoyance now in his face Really guys? He thought as the spectre hovered towards him. "Who are you to summon uss?"

"I am Nethenial Grimcloak." Neth spoke trying not to let his fear show.

"Why have you disturbed the peace..."

"PEACE!?! What peace! This entire god-forsaken realm is in distraught and dismay! The living world razed and purged as powers of unlife used in reckless abandon and you dare say I disturbed the peace!"

"WATCH YOUR TONGUE, YOU PUNY MORTAL! We are beings of mythic power, beyond the comprehension of fools such as you."

"Power, hah!", A familiar voice snorted. All eyes turned to the voice of the bard sitting on a rock his guitar on his lap "You are bound to the Necro-nom-nomicon , and whoever wields it has dominion over you." Neth looked at the book he had with him. He looked at the sadistic grin on it and showed to everyone

The reaper hissed as it saw the book, its bane. Neth watched as the mighty creature trembled before his small book. He stared at its covered and with his fingers, dug into the cover , shredding the pages. A large explosion followed, filling the air with noxious fumes and knocked everybody back.

Neth lay motionless, a sharp pain searing his right hand as if his flesh as being tied into knots and then cut open. He sat up and then looked at his palms, glowing with a faint steady light as the pain slowly eased but still remained. he looked around at the winded crowd scurrying away from the center of the town. He looked upon the sight of their fright, the reaper screaming as its orbit of wraiths flew away. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!"

"I have set you free.You are no longer bound to the Necro-nom-nomicon."


The reaper set its vengeful eyes on Neth as it scooted across the distance between them, scythe drawn back to cleave Neth in half. Instead it was met with a resounding clang of metal, as two shadowy figures descended, crossing scythes in an attempt to stop the onslaught. The crossed blades a few more time before the reaper knocked the town them away and went in for the kill. Neth swung his hand in and caught the bony hand of the reaper and gripped tighty. The agonizing wails echoed as the the fibers of the reaper unraveled. Slowly but surely the reaper faded away, "You...why?"

"Everyone deserves freedom. Take rest now, rest from the monster you are.

The crowded stood dumbfounded as the two shadows took form as reapers, significantly smaller something you could pet. They kneeled to Neth as he walked to them. "I will not force you to fight. I will be no better than a necromancer if I use you against your will. You will fight with me with your own free will."

He turned and walked away. "You mistake our intentions," A deep rich voice said. He turned to see the reapers following him. "Your actions have put Necropolis in a much riskier state with a bleaker future. But to combat this, we need someone who knows the beauty of life and the value of death."

"Very well." Neth agreed as he resumed his quest with new fervor and new companions

END OF PART 3

Neth stood at the empty ground, now desecrated and burnt. The tombstones that marked the graves were now rubble, littered across dug up plots. He walked towards his shovel, planted on the ground acting as his tombstone to memorialize his failure. The two reapers, Grimm and Gloom filed behind him unsure of what to do. Through their aid, he was able to navigate through the dark alleys of afterlife and come back to the living world, at the place he met his demise.

He looked at it with solemn eyes then looked to the horizon, the ruined village below and the large storm cloud hovering over Ydra. He took the moment to reminisce his entire life. Through the ups and downs, his life was riddled with tragedy too many to recount, yet that was the life of a hero, and he met it with whole-heart.

"What now?" Asked Grimm.

"He told me I was a gravedigger without his shovel, with no more dead to bury," Neth began heaving his shovel from its planted position and then slinging over his shoulder, "But one remains to meet my spade, one left to taste the earth. Come on." He urged as he took steps down from his burnt homestead.

He stoically trekked through the purged town, whoever survived scurrying away and fleeing into shelter. A figure dashed out of the wreckage a colorful trial of light following him as he began weaving a crescendo of song, soft and comforting like old memories then rising into large. upbeat notes, like an army marching forward, forward to a new dawn, a new future.

Neth didn't mind the newcomer. He welcomed the strange virtuous's music, every epic confrontation required a masterpiece played i nthe background. Eventually Neth arrived in dark corrupted city that would later be known as Kraag. He continued his stoic march as he walked the grim street, with large buildings,once majestic high-rises now decrepit pits of black stone. From shadowy corners and corridors, undead eyes of the transformed inhabitants watched with awe. Neth did not lower his head and hide in his hood, he stood tall, arms crossed, hands tucked in his sleeves, shovel over his back and went straight towards the large monolith that was probably Drakeula's mansion.

The guards at the gates signaled the alarm as Neth approached with his two reapers, the bard had gone off somewhere but his music could still be heard. Men, horribly malformed into twisted abominations of the undead, flocked down from the gantry behind the walls and lined in front to the gate.

But they could not stop death. Neth raised his hands and a large a tombstone landed onto the ground in front of them. It cast a pale glow blue glow for a few seconds, then the entire garrison crumpled into bones like a house of cards. With another wave, he dismantled the front gate with another wave of his hand. Dust and rubble flew as the granite walls exploded, shrapnel of wood and mangled iron cascaded into the sky as the portcullis teared apart.

Neth ran into the fray. More lines of undead came, more fell. He kept on his defiant march, slamming tombstones unto the lines, scattering them to bone ; Summoning chains of ghostly steel to bind his opposition and drag them into the earth ; Summoning lanterns glowing with unholy light, slowing the escape of the fleeing cowards and slowly decomposing them.

A howl pierced through the sound of desolation. A familiar noise, Neth had been hoping to meet. He looked and saw the hunched mass of the once barbarian that slayed him, now a festering wolf infested and contaminated, with a pack of wolves, flesh molting and ectoplasm leaking. Neth demolished him with a swipe of his hand as chains dragged him down.

He marched on, unfazed by the barrage of tainted arrows and burst of death magic. He was now in front of the castle itself. The grandeur the palace might have had has into faded into a descrate imposing bulk. From there came the council of necromancer that aided in the creation of this nightmare and the vampiric pale figure of Drakeula.

"Tell me, why have you come, peasant?"

Neth held back all the anger boiling within him, as he looked at the being who destroyed everything he had. "I come with peaceful intentions", he un-slung his shovel and pointed it at Drakeula,"To lay your madness to rest." Drakeula waved his hand, commanding his council of necromancers to attack. They waved their staffs and uttered incantations before an armageddon of necrotic fire rained down upon the solitary figure of Neth. The ground erupted, debris and dust took flight, fumes hovered like a thick blanket.

Drakeula smirked, nothing could have survived that much power. The dust began to settle and the silhouette of a cloaked figure stood resolutely. The council looked at each other with awe, as Neth just stood there, and nonchalantly dusted the sleeve of his cloak. "Anything else?"

The outraged vampire lord, urged his necromancers forth, having them summon massive legions of dead-knights and archers. They formed into rag-tag ranks and mounted their assault. The shambolic rabble of corpses ,waved swords, shot arrows, spears at the digger. Neth raised his hand and then swiftly moved it down,the two reapers emerged from behind him and began dismantling the onslaught. Lines and lines of dead fell to the sweeping arc of scythe, flowing with a cold lucid shine like liquid silver. Neth casually walked through as the reapers carved out a path for him.

Soon whatever was left of the army, Neth dropped another tombstone and they crumbled to dust. He walked forward and thrust forth his hand. Chains erupted beneath the rank of necromancers.Coiling around them .Then dragging them into the earth.

Drakeula stared, dumbfounded as Neth casually walked towards him, after decimating his entire army. Drakeula lifted into the air and set his hands ablaze in maroon flames. "If want something done right, you do it yourself." He muttered as he hovered towards Neth.

"I give you one last chance , yield peacefully or...", Neth was abruptly cut off my Drakeula.

"I WILL NEVER YIELD!", Drakeula shot flaming orbs at Neth, they simply dissipated on his cloak. Drakeula tore apart the ground, summoning coffins and slamming them onto the ground. Flocks of chattering toothy bats emerged from mist of blood and began erratically flying and biting. Drakeula crossed his arms on his chest and turned to get sight of his target, a dark silhouette. He fired a large concentration of energy in a cone. Surely he has finally met hs demise, right?

A voice spoke in a jolly tone," How did the old phrase go,'An ace up my sleeve'? Well I don't have an ace, but I do have a..SPADE!"

A dull yellow light cast upon Drakeula, as Neth suddenly appeared behind him and whacked him hard. All the bats slowly turned to ash as the lantern did its magic. Chains erupted from the ground and began wrapping around Drakeula.He managed to conitnually rip off the chains whislt dodging Neth's swinging fury. Inevitably, the chains wrapped Drakeula in their cold embrace, he was forfully pulled down from the air and collided with the ground. Neth walked towards the cocooned figure, he put his feet on Drakeula's chest and leaned down to look at his distorted face. "Who..who are you?"

"I am the last thing you will remember and first thing you'll know. You will know my touch for aeons, as you pay for you crimes against life and death." He grasped Drakeula's face with his right hand, still pulsing with powers from the Necro-nom-nomicon and the maelstrom. Drakeula screeched in agony as Neth stripped the layers of his immortality bit by bit in excruciating pain, instead filling him with the dread and anguiah of all the souls he had slain.

Drakeula fell unconscious after feeling the contact of Neth's hand. Neth stared into the face of the now decrepit old lord. Drakeula had wronged, and destroyed life for many and destroyed afterlife, he deserved punishment, yet Neth only felt sorry. The vengeance within him subsided and saw Drakeula as just another soul, in need of rest. He lifted his hand, he wasn't going to prevent the rest of another soul, be would no better then Drakeula. He stood up and dragged Drakeula's corpse to his large mansion, and placed him in a large coffin, conveniently located in Drakeula's chamber. He closed the coffin lid and walked out.

He spread his arms wide and began to speak, " Citizens, people dead and oppressed, hear my call. Your souls are free. Remember me ,I am your liberator , I am your death. You may now rest. You have...." he lifted his shovel , "...My regard!" He slammed it into the ground. Tremors shook the earth as Drakeula's mansion began to sink into the earth, the living nightmare and dead crumbled and sank with the black builidings. The dark cloud that hung over the area, began to disperse showing the first glint of the moon.

Neth walked out as the destruction followed his wake. Once he was out of the city, no sign of life or death was there. It was just empty ground with forest lining the side and mountains in the horizon.


(There will be an epilogue)
The End

Epilogue

Neth walked into the Necropolis, which was now in a worsened state. Buildings appeared to sag and lean down like deflated balloons, more spirits sat in melancholy, like when Neth first visited it. It was his responsibility now, these people were his to lead. He took a deep breathe and walked to the center of the town which wasn't in its previous malefic stormy condition. Instead a patch of black ground with cracks emitting green light covered the area. He brought out his best smile or was it just his flesh-less skull? Then proclaimed ," People of the Necropolis.... why the frowns?"

It caught everyone's attention and they all looked at him, like Seriously? One spoke up. "How can we not? We are rid of our life, left to rot in this dump for eternity."

"Yes,I can see why all you must feel the desolation of just sitting here,staring blankly into eternity, but this doesn't mean its the end.."

"And who are you to tell us that?", a voice prodded.

Whilst everyone moped, Neth found opportunity and took his chance, he stood up for what he believed in and took action and yet this stranger asked him who he is to say that? He bit back his anger, and spoke in a calm voice ," You may call me... " Neth, walked out of the center, swung his right hand back and the corrode ground he stood on moments ago erupted into a maelstrom of energy, "Deth."

The ground scurried back in fear.This was not what I was going for, time for a different approach. Deth, formerly Neth took a deep breath, "I am simply another deceased soul like all of you. but where you saw damnation I found salvation, where you saw an eternity of misery, I saw a chance, a chance at a new life."

"Our life was a great sunrise, filled with its ups and downs, why shouldn't death be an even greater sunset? We have lived through strife and trials, but now its our time to relax, its our time to rejoice in those fond memories we created, remember them as we forge a new life here, at the necropolis. Don't you get it? Its time for celebration! Celebration of our time in the living world and the new beginnings here!"

The crowd erupted in a resounding cheer,shaken out of their melancholy and instilled with hope. "It won't be easy, but if we do it together, we can make the Necropolis, our home, better. Enough talk! Let's celebrate!"

The Necropolis was alive with action, music from the mysterious bard rang across all the nooks and crannies of the city, as zombies, ghouls, spectres and other undead beings danced and sang, wearing decorative hats and eating cake. Deth let his reapers free, they returned to the funnel with a small ghostly smile on their faces.

Soon after the construction began and the Necropolis took shape into what it is today.They even built a large statue in the town center to commemorate Deth standing against the reaper and him bringing joy to the Necropolis,with Deth as their guardian, their leader. He was merely a sliver of the man he once was, but he knew his purpose and knew his job, he would make sure the souls made their way safely to here and would protect them, although he needed a little (okay a lot of) help.

So his adventure began anew as Guardian of the Necropolis.

THE END

Well this story is gonna be long as heck,lol

So far i like it,keep up the awesome work!

deth dies?...but he was there in necropolis...but not with ashovel I guess..

Cool story dude,like it :)

It took a while but the story is finally complete, leave a comment, tell me what you think, where I can improve and what to possibly write next.