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Jack Sol was timorous.
It wasn't the first time in his life that he had been thrown in a life or death situation but here he was again standing in the face of death yet again. He could feel the malice vibrating off the ancient sarcaphcous. The room rumbled with an ancient power that he couldn't quite put into words.
For the first time within his life he felt afraid. This newfound fear also didn't help that the sarcaphcous was slowly breaking apart. A black liquid of sorts slowly pouring from the creaks of tomb. The smell strong enough to make Jack gag.
He could turn away. Run far away as possible. Seal the tomb while he still had the chance.
Instead Jack found himself holding himself together. Despite the massive amount of fear that was rising within him, he knew he couldn't run away from this. If he didn't stop this undead entity who would? The people of Lythuria relied on him to vanquish this threat. And that was what he was going to do.
Jack stood in a fighting position and willed his palms to blaze. The sarcdpcous was ready to reveal the ancient sprit within....
And the spirit had its sights on Jack....
