Lord of Undeath

"Not but the talisman of Khufu may pass these gates with thee.", were the words recited by the two colossal stone faces that guarded the gates of the lost temple of Khufu. The priestess Felrua had been heard her master's call one night as he approached her in a vivid dream, where he bestowed in her mind the location of his last temple, and then mercilessly ravaged her. As the last survivor of the original six priestesses in the fringe cult, the rest hunted down one by one by inquisitors of the Light, Felrua was chosen to receive the honour of performing the resurrection ritual. She trekked alone across miles of barren wasteland, inhabited only by the soulless murderous shells of things that were once alive.

Red eyes watched the guardian statues coldly from beneath a dark hood. Parting her cloak, Felrua displayed the talisman that hung from her neck, a key artifact that the other five priestesses had endured unfathomable torture to keep hidden from their enemies until it passed to Felrua. On recognition of the talisman, the stone faces shifted their eyes to gaze down upon her appraisingly, and she began to disrobe. To enter the territory of her lord, it was necessary to shed her possessions, so that the inner chambers would be kept free of impure things, and so that Khufu's presence in the temple walls would be able see into her soul from all angles and judge if she was worthy to serve him.

Felrua tossed aside her cloak to reveal the steely gaze of a beautiful elf woman, her skin a dark grey, and her hair a pale white. The moon reflected dimly off the smooth dark skin on her bare legs, for the entire distance between the top of her boots to the bottom reaches of her breastplate. Made of an unnatural black metal, the armor bore ominous runes that glowed red, and it was this breastplate that she next removed, unclasping it and dropping it to the ground unceremoniously. The silky white shirt she wore underneath betrayed the contours of a pair of healthy round breasts that lay beneath. She unbuckled her belt, on which rested her sword, and she cast both aside, allowing her unrestrained shirt to billow in the wind. She unstrapped a dagger from its place on her shapely thigh, and discarded it as well. With a word, her boots faded into nothing, and she touched her bare toes to the cold stone step beneath her. As the wind picked up and her hair danced about her face, glowing brightly in the moonlight, she pulled off her shirt and let it sail into the darkness of night. The cold air caused her skin to tighten and her nipples to stand up on end, causing a twitch of approval in the stone faces that beheld the sight. Moving her hands to her hips, Felrua finally pulled on her silvery panties and let them slide to her ankles. She stepped with one foot and flicked with the other, to cast the panties unto the wind, so that what remained before the temple gate was a slender, lithe elf, her curves accentuated in the pale moonlight. The talisman still rested aroun