Please note, this is a story with a setting in a different world set in the Middle Ages. I do not wish somebody to say "Why don't he just shoot him?" in the comments if it is unavoidable.

Prologue

A man walked through the dark tomb with a lit torch in his hand. He looked around at the walls, upon which runes from years ago were engraved. He couldn't read them, himself, but he knew he'd get paid handsomely by the King if he told him. There was probably treasure hidden somewhere here.

He walked down a hallway and came upon a large wooden door. Nervously, the man opened the door carefully, ready to flee. But, it was only a large hallway that was revealed, with a beam of red light at the end, an open doorway made up of a large stone arch, with a tall stone statue on each side.

Large iron bowls hung from the ceiling by chains, and the fire burning inside illuminated the pathway. Oddly, the flames didn't touch any part of the bowl, but hovered above the surface.

The man walked up to the archway and looked at the statues that stood sentinel. They were well-armored and carried a large stone sword in their hands at rest, with the tip on the ground and their hands over the stone jewel in the pommel.

He smiled and continued through the archway. He stopped and looked at the beauty of the chamber. Two stone staircases came down and met into one, only to head down to the bottom. In the center of the room was the most breathtaking sight, however. A beam of red light shot from a hole in the roof. It completely covered a marble platform.

On this platform lay a blonde-haired man, wearing chain mail underneath a red tunic. He bore a sword on his body, the tip lying on the marble. The hilt lay on his chest.

The man rushed down the stairwell as fast as his feet would allow and ran up to the platform. Carefully, he reached across and picked up the sword.

It was heavy in his hands. He swung it a little, until he heard a grunting noise. The man on the table was breathing. He wanted to run, but his legs wouldn't move. He was paralyzed in fear.
The body stood up and looked at him.

"You have disturbed my rest. For that, I thank you. Give me my sword," ordered the man.

The explorer handed it over quickly. The man looked at the sword carefully.

"Thank you. Unfortunately, you cannot tell anybody about you seeing me. That will, regrettably, result in your death," said the man.

He raised his free hand and curled a couple of fingers. A red-hot dagger rose from next to the platform. He waved his hand, and the dagger flew straight into the man's heart.

"Awaken, my knights. I have returned."

There will be more to come. A story of this scale requires me to work with friends to create a web of trust.