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.
Mist
Apart from a few, terribly cared for blades and some arrows, that only met the requirement to be called so because they were shot from a bow, sticking out of him, Loimos hadn't encountered much issues traversing the forest of thorn, it had been home to some groups of people-sized trolls, who wore clothing and had a constant, off-putting smile on their faces, but they seemed to be spending their times herding deers as cattle, so they weren't much of a threat.
Sure, they had managed to surrounding him at one point, pin him down and stab him in the guts about five dozens of time like expert knifemen, but Loimos couldn't ask to be attacked in a better spot than this, there was literally nothing they could do with their shoddy weapons that way.