He found a cliff and leapt off, grabbing an updraft and curving it towards the Tomb. He didn’t know exactly what he was going to see there, but he knew that it he’d probably not encounter anything good. Ossus the Tyrant had been quite powerful even without his vast resources and army. It was even said that he had drawn power from the Dragon itself. Elmond didn’t exactly believe those rumors, but he secretly hoped that they were true. Facing the Dragon seemed like it’d supply enough adrenaline to last him a lifetime. Granted, that probably wouldn’t be very long, but even if he survived the fight, he’d probably have his heart hammering in his chest for decades to come.
He landed in a clearing in the trees, and before him, carved into the wall of the cliffside, was an ancient structure with broken pillars and faded glyphs. He had arrived. Elmond reached into his pocket and pulled out his fire. Holding it in the palm of his hand, he let a jet of the fire slip between his fingers and attack the door. The doors collapsed with little effort, leaving a smoking, glowing heap of rubble.
Elmond sashayed boldly into the hall, casually looking about. The stone hallway ahead lead straight forward, but, as Elmond walked on, he saw two hallways perpendicular to the main one, both leading in different directions. He continued straight forward without even thinking about it. After all, he had all the time in the world to explore and he could turn around at any time. It wasn’t long after he had done this that he heard a sound behind him.
He whirled around, and there, rounding the corners of those other hallways, were iron hooks on iron chains. Elmond flung his flames at them, to no avail. He turned to run away, but they grasped his flesh. He writhed in pain, but more hooks grasped him. They clung to him, and the agony got worse. Elmond pulled with all his might. He yanked his body free. His body was torn. He felt empty. He moved still. He hurt. Wait. Some chains chased him, some drew back, holding… soul.