McIan
Journeyman
His first reaction was to heave violently, but Itannar had smelled worse – though he could not recall in recent memory just when. It was the stench of death – old, undying, death that clung to everything, putrid and cloying. Then he saw it shambling through the woods ahead of him.
Undead! How did it get so far into town? Where are the Royal Guards?
He would have to deal with this himself. Arming himself with his slayer bow, he moved closer, riding his Ki-Rin, which protested, snorting violently.
Just a bit more… calm down boy… this should not take long.
Nocking an arrow and moving within range, he let fly.
Thunk! The shaft buried itself into the ground in front of the thing.
I didn’t miss! What the…?
He fired another and another. Each one scored, but penetrated through.
There’s not enough flesh on it to offer resistance!
Finally the thing stopped and turned to face him. Its eyes glowed and its jaw dropped open. It pointed a boney finger at him: In Sar!
A burst of intense pain rippled through him, blasting past his heavy armor. He felt from his mount, dropping his bow, clutching his chest as he lay on his back gazing skyward.
A spellcaster?
The thing moved in, reaching down to pick him up. The stench was now almost unbearable. It pummeled him with its fists, knocking the breath out of him. In another moment it cast another spell. A blast of deathly cold enveloped him, sending icy streaks of agony throughout, stealing away what remained of his breath and sensible cognition.
The last thing he saw before passing out was it standing over him, its mouth agape, hissing the words in a guttural tone: “Gaven commands! Leave… mortal!”
Undead! How did it get so far into town? Where are the Royal Guards?
He would have to deal with this himself. Arming himself with his slayer bow, he moved closer, riding his Ki-Rin, which protested, snorting violently.
Just a bit more… calm down boy… this should not take long.
Nocking an arrow and moving within range, he let fly.
Thunk! The shaft buried itself into the ground in front of the thing.
I didn’t miss! What the…?
He fired another and another. Each one scored, but penetrated through.
There’s not enough flesh on it to offer resistance!
Finally the thing stopped and turned to face him. Its eyes glowed and its jaw dropped open. It pointed a boney finger at him: In Sar!
A burst of intense pain rippled through him, blasting past his heavy armor. He felt from his mount, dropping his bow, clutching his chest as he lay on his back gazing skyward.
A spellcaster?
The thing moved in, reaching down to pick him up. The stench was now almost unbearable. It pummeled him with its fists, knocking the breath out of him. In another moment it cast another spell. A blast of deathly cold enveloped him, sending icy streaks of agony throughout, stealing away what remained of his breath and sensible cognition.
The last thing he saw before passing out was it standing over him, its mouth agape, hissing the words in a guttural tone: “Gaven commands! Leave… mortal!”