Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

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.

"The headmaster has been secured, our foothold within the academy is guaranteed unless he is discovered" Loimos immediately reported, his disposition utterly different from that of his Osworth persona, back to the very definition of undead.

"Great, that One vampiress is more capable than she appears, her concoction is a great addition to our collection, it should be high time to get done with this then, the livings are growing more dissident" speaking of their temporary allies, the mage snarled.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"When is that woman going to allow all of her shitlings to step in at once?" rubbing his cracked chin, the sorcerous undead hadn't had such an opportunity in a long, long time, and it was all thanks to Loimos.

It had been a chance encounter, proof that fate aligned with the dead, that once again, they would rise from outer tomb and rain ruin upon the proliferating filth that was life, it had been so long since their glory days.

"Nowadays, even puppets get to be alive, simply preposterous, I would crushed this fool into jam without a second thought were he not useful" revelling in long awaited progress, Unacunerra, known as The Earthen Catastrophe and royal guard to his majesty had not seen such a thing in too many years.

The marks of his failure still clung to his skeletal form even to this day, of course, there had been no way for him to possibly defeat The Elven Light by himself, but the knowledge of this fact did not alleviate anything.

"Soon, our legion shall come back together, stronger than it used ever was, facing against our enemies, who have never been so weak" he looked forward to the reascension of death.

This all had been put into motion after Loimos somehow managed to not be destroyed entirely at the hand of Lady Syklon, it was technically his own attack that did the damage but that did not matter, all that was of importance was that he was not defeated in the truest of sense.

Loimos was a skeleton capable of piloting his severed limbs wherever they remained, a great deal of them at the same time, and over a distance that seemed to simply not end.

The putrid skeleton had lost many bits of himself over the course of his career, getting hacked up and thrown around was a typical occurrence, there was that arm cut off by Helena way back in Throdqdmond, but it had eventually been destroyed by the residents to calm their wrath.

Of course, they were the countless hands that had been wandering Muho Chitai as well, but the disembodied limb of interest was one that had been left in Findpasser, down into the pit resting in the center of the city, inhabited by countless bat-like creatures, after his conversation with Irmandos, he had simply left the hand down there, enveloping it in rot, his death force had remained here all of this time.

And as such, he was able to regrow fully from there, saving quite a bit of time travelling, emerging out at night, making his exit undetected, and without surprises, he had then decided to head for Bourgliotte, last city to check out on his list.

He had not been able to get very close to the city, not to mention inside, the country Bourgliotte belonged to was Starkefolten, they enjoyed having armed forces and power in the form of violence, vestige of their old times as a warmongering nation.

There had indeed been a crypt inside, the monument was so huge it could provide shade for half of the city, and it appeared to only be peeking out from the ground, it was actually rather easy from Loimos to tell that this was the right place, since any goober with the slightest of senses of energy would be blasted by the intensity of the struggle, a seal of phantasmagorical proportions, intertwined with both a powerful radiant energy and life force unlike any other the undead had ever witnessed suppressing the death force the building seemed to naturally emit.

Faraday had said that the king's castle was permanently shrouded with his dominion, so the struggle he could so simply make out from such a distance was most certainly the undead king's dominion actively fighting the seal.

Such a duel could not possibly go unnoticed, it was unclear the how or why, but Starkefolten had erected a great city, or rather, a bastion to keep a watch and contain the crypt, whilst it might appear like a city, Loimos's observation quickly revealed that there seemed to be no simple commoners within the walls, even the merchants bringing in goods were awfully powerful, clearly over qualified regarding their position.

Bourgliotte had countless walls and defensive measures, guards armed to the teeth and garbed in the most exquisite of equipment available, even getting anywhere close to the city was certain to result in the undead's eradication from the face of this world.

Although this country was known for its military might, it lacked any individual that could pretend to reach the level of the likes of Syklon or Rosemary, but all of this, it was the work of countless people from many different fields, created, crafted, perfected over countless generations, it was nothing to scoff at, and reaching the king of the dead would be a troublesome affair, an affair requiring immense firepower, overwhelming numbers and great ingenuity.

In short, the might of the dead was needed.

It was time for the dreadful lords of yore to rise again, for the chosen champions of death to fight once more.