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This is some fluff I am coming up with for the tomb kings army I'm helping with. Please contribute any advice you may have, even if it is just typos.

The mercenary stumbled carelessly into the chamber. Behind him sounds of authority had already began as the officers tried to keep track of the loot their troops were taking. He glanced around the room and beheld a ring of sarcophagi on the walls which were studded with statuettes of various barbaric patrons. Still they looked worth a pretty penny if he could only get them back undetected. Then his gaze fell upon the great sarcophagus in the centre of the room. It was exquisitely crafted to resemble sleeping warrior king, covered in glittering gems of various sizes. But it would show if he snatched a handful of those so he quietly heaved it open as the noises of a brawl reverberated in the great hall behind him. The lid was somehow light for stone, as though it was meant to be opened for some terrible ritual.

As he gently slid it onto the floor his keen eyes scanned the gaunt figure within. Skin like mould was tightly stretched over the skull of the king, who rested with his gaunt hands clutching the hilt of a great golden scimitar. He was wrapped in various smelling bandages which may explain how he even had skin and over these were royal robes. The soldiers eyes instinctively picked up on the delicate brooch which rested upon the corpse’s neck, perfectly resembling a golden snake, coiled up with miniscule ruby eyes. He gingerly reached for it, dreaming of the price such a work would fetch back in the empire.

Then a hard hand grabbed his wrist and he braced himself for the inevitable scalding words of some stuck up captain about how he would get his share in time, about how this treasure belonged to Lord Schwelden and how he ought to be whipped for his audacity. Instead however a quiet hoarse voice breathed into his face, “For Mahrak.” A second bony hand grabbed his throat and when he opened his eyes his last sight were a pair of glowing amber eyes beneath the corpse’s ragged eyelids.




The Tomb King shoved the corpse roughly to the floor as he slid upright from the coffin. In one bony hand he lifted up the sword and in the other he quickly grabbed the strap of his elaborate shield. The antechamber of his tomb was full of men, he could hear them. For a moment he remembered the old times, when the pyramid had been filled with life and he was promised a perfect resurrection and servants obeyed him with reverence. Then he saw the dust and the bones and the broken bones of his tomb guard and he knew what the men were. Doomed.