Beregond saw ahead of him what his prize was now. It was a chest... black but embellished in fine gold, in behind it a hooded statue kneeling, head looking down at the chest. The platform was square and was much wider than the path he was on. As he ran towards the chest, he climbed slowly up the lit steps. "Yesssss," the voice said to him in pleasure, "Yes that is it! That is it." Beregond knelt on one knee and broke the lock off of it, opening it slowly.

Below him his eyes beheld a wonder of the Chaos world. Before him was a dark suit of Chaos armour. The finer details included whitish silver lines across the bottom and a pair of golden 8-pointed stars on the breast plate. The fur around the collar was that of a white lion's and the armour's make was more than not that of an elf. The shoulders included sharpened cylindrical spikes which can be said the same for the underarms. The leggings and boots had sharpened knee points and Gothic adoration to the four Dark Gods.

"It will give you power!"
"Yessss power beyond your imaginations!"
"Wear it and crush the skulls of the foolish believers of the Pagan Gods."

As Beregond reached in, the sound of a sword pulled from its sheath followed by crumbling rang through the tunnels as Beregond ducked his head in reflex of the sound, a sword grazing past his hair.

Backing away, Beregond drew his sword. The statue behind the chest stood, the rock crumbling from it as it removed its hood. A horned figure almost like a bloodletter stepped forward as its deadly blade swung at Beregond again. He moved back, drawing his great sword.

In the Dark tongue of the Gods it spoke: "Mortals shall not tamper with the corrupted armaments of the Dark Ones." (Translated) A fleshy tongue swirled the words. Beregond had no idea of this sinister language and was only threatened. In a bitter brawl, the swords of the two dark agents clashed in the depths of the mountain holds. The sound of steel rang out in the darkness as the two fought.

The slick sword of the dark one before Beregond swung again meeting Beregond's blade as with his strength he brought the sword down and kicked the beastly thing to the ground. It rose back up, almost as if it floated to its feet as Beregond ran at it again. He hacked at the being again and again only to be parried by skill, trying to switch his footing constantly. Even as his blade cut down through the things arm it did not bleed, it did not cry in agony or pain, it simply cracked its neck and switched hands.

"Ungodly thing! Die!" Beregond ordered as his blade pierced deep into its chest. The being smiled and stabbed at Beregond as he just moved in time; Beregond sensed this things power as he retracted his blade. "What foul creature are you?!" He asked as the smile on the being wore off, striking again.

In a moment's notice Beregond went with his instinct, catching the blade of the daemonic beast, beating its sword to the ground and slammed his fist into its neck as it gasped for a second, stepping back. Beregond proceeded to disarm the beast forcing it against the chest. Smiling, he removed its head.

"Very good Beregond"
"Yeeesssss we have chossssen the right one after all."