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.
What's Coming
The undead's bony feet scraped against the ground, fingers and toes twitching at an odd tempo, bringing his hands together, just in front of the heavily faded emblem drawn directly onto the front of his robe, a sign of having once belonged to the now inactive army of the dead.
"Loimos, get over here will you? You should be done on your end" turning to a dark corner, where a motionless figure laid on its knees, head tilted back, arms completely limp, dressed into an antique armour, similarly touched by the decay of time as was the attire of the skeleton, the suit of protective gear jolted into motion, a sudden twitch, a dark purplish glow coming out of the thin slits of the helm for a brief instant.
Rising up only using its legs.