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.
Good Business
"You're late" a man whose belly couldn't possibly expand any further without rupturing spoke with a face reddened by the ambient warmth, the heat of the two suns was even worse inside of the city, much less cold breezes to rescue you and a density of people and building trapping the hot, accumulating it.
"Sorry, a freaking tree had fallen in the way, and no one to help me, I had to get a change of clothes afterward, looked like I had went for a swim, but hey, fifteen whole barrels of salt, with the stop in production, this is a lot" the man spread his arms and tilted his head to side a bit.
The well-fed man shook his head, beads of sweat emerging from his forehead, trickling down his chin and neck.
"Here, that's double the usual, now help me unload" he threw a pouch of coins, rolling his eyes as he climbed up onto the carriage, the two of them carefully unloaded each of the barrels on stable ground.