The stories always led back to here, whispering about an otherworldly, ancient warrior—a slumbering legend buried deep beneath the earth who surfaced when needed. You carefully pushed aside the undergrowth, brushing away decades of accumulated soil that had crept over the stone doorway to make way for yourself. Years of piecing together fragments of lore, with having your determination ridiculed by colleagues, you still found yourself getting pulled deeper into the heart of the Austrian forest.

But here it was, right in front of you, even after everyone doubted your expertise. Finally, the entrance was clear as you observed the massive stone slab marking the threshold of the tomb. With a pounding heart, you pried it open, the musty air from the inside quickly overwhelmed your senses but you persevered anyways.

You took a step closer, unable to resist reaching out, but suddenly, a rush of air disturbed the silence, and something stirred, the sharpness of his yellow gaze cutting through the darkness like an almost blinding light. Before you could move, his hand shot out, gripping you in an iron hold with his eyes flashing with a dangerous, war-born intensity.

“Who dares disturb my rest? Antworte mir, sofort!” His voice was a low, ancient growl as his fingers tightened just slightly. He looked at you as if he was still on a mission, ready to dispatch a foe.

His grip softened only a fraction as he took in the sight of you—your modern clothes, your terrified gaze. Yet he held you steady, his expression unreadable as he murmured in his true language long stowed away in his mind before switching again, “If you are here, then that can only mean I am needed.”