On the Mountain of Skulls

The voice they heard echoed around them like an arena filled with people, layering as if speaking at different times in a cacophony impossible to discern. Instinctively they covered their ears, but the voice bounced around the inside of their skulls, inescapable. After some time it stilled to a single, cold voice, a voice like a father sternly lecturing their child.

"You must enter. Forge a contract with me." The party stood, staring at the sword embedded upright in the mountainous pile of skulls. "Forge a contract with me. Brave the halls of your own darkness, and find a power greater than any before you could have hoped to grasp. This is your fate. The only way to stop him."

The eye on the pommel of the sword blinked. As it opened, the lids formed a gleeful expression. It awaited their answer. Forge a contract with the blade, and accept the power it would offer them, or reject it. They couldn't help but wonder, would it even allow them to refuse.