What They Are

Another day had ended, another one had just begun, and Derdlim Maulerd came face to face, with a putrid horse first thing in the morning, a beast unlike those of the south, enormous and tall, its maw more like that of a rabid dog than an equid, its mane long and ragged, yet seemingly well-kempt nonetheless, this was no regular undead mount, and as such, its rider was no regular undead soldier as well.

The south had been leading a lengthy conflict against the undeads for a long time now, the undeads attacked the wall, always and retreated after just a little bit of damage was done, the soldiers mended the destruction and defended ferociously, Alisart attempted to find excuses to install truces multiple time, but the left hand had not budged, the current state of affairs was already good for the living, all knew it.