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.
Round Table
"Aherm… Sooo… How are we going to go about this?" Jaral Cribler was the first to actually speak, his heterochromatic eyes brought about from unnatural means looking at each of his contemporaries, of course, the four greater warlords had had to come together and assemble around a round table, which still had cobwebs upon it after being hastily rolled out of wherever it had been, the very different lords had just been throwing glares at one another for the past ten minutes or so.
Well, perhaps it wasn't only consisting of glares, Alisart Cleavster shifted uncomfortably.
"Will you stop staring into my soul woman and licking your teeth woman?! You god awful creep-"