Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead
Moulded from rot and souls, Loimos is born as an undead, as a skeleton. An undead linked to the weakest category of its kind, yet, he has something no other of the dead have. He is pure. Follow the journey of Loimos as he fulfils his duty and hunts down the living with extreme prejudice and faces off with the hypocrisy of those who live in death. In a world thriving with life, magic and heroes, he stands as the solution and its end.
Dreamy
"It still feels like I am dreaming" said a man, garbed in a simple tunic provided by the sun worshippers, which was easy to tell as they were always dressed in green.
"Get a grip, it's been months now" responded another, who looked rather similar to the first.
"I mean, can you believe that we- The two of us, managed to somehow survive, of all people? I thought for certain that this random one-armed undead was going to butcher us and slap us in our faces for even thinking to try anything" he sighed, it had really been a stroke of luck.
"Come on now, we are only alive because of our practice of running away, that's what we did the most in all of our adventuring career" that was also true, few could somehow escape in a panic across an unforgiving terrain, know how to keep running in fear even when falling and tripping every step of the way.
It certainly was a skill to master, one that the brave sorely lacked.