Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Walking through the streets after The Death Dealer had went through them would have been a surreal experience for anyone else, the bodies mutilated in seemingly impossible ways, ignoring armours and weapons, cutting them down with the same as she cut through flesh, deep gashes left into the ground and walls, some homes collapsed after being supposedly smashed down with nothing but raw force.

After Loimos went through, the bloody, the splattered organs, the expressions frozen with horror as death stared them right in the eyes, all of this disappeared without a trace, even the death force in the air vanished, leaving a ghost town in his wake, nothing but ruins without habitants, without life.

Maliah was still hard at work, or rather, having lots of fun somewhere else in the city, killing everyone in such a populated city wasn't an easy feat, and she was taking her time with some of her victims as well, their screams of suffering and last howls could be heard in the distance further away.

The undead soon arrived in the center of Weafewand, this place wasn't filled with as much corpses as one might have expected, but there were still plenty of heart-wrenching sights, especially this one man that had clearly been slowly taken apart, it was like breaking down a crossbow into its many parts, but with a living person.

Clearly, the captain had to have been rather interesting to receive such noble treatment from The Death Dealer, his remains were soon washed away by the unrelenting tide of rot Loimos headed, it really was a boon to have gotten her assistance for the skeleton.

He would be able to gain much power in many departments, the sheer amount of death force would prove substantial on its own, on top of this, she alone would take full credit for whatever happened there, the living would have no idea of the truth of this event, the indeed would be able to proceed as if nothing happened.

The floating crypt wasn't looking as pristine as it used to, some bodies had clearly been thrown directly against its surface, and somehow, it had received slashes and other blows despite being so high up.

Heading for the spots were guards had been overlooking the object, it didn't take too long for Loimos to find the various arrays and circles used to maintain this thing afloat, roughly breaking the very surface those were drawn and placed upon, the sphere began to lower itself, like invisible chains holding it up were being snapped one by one.

Touching the ground, the sphere didn't roll in the least, he approached it, manifesting rot in the shape tendrils ending with monstrous-like flowers of rot, like hoses, they showered a part of the outside in black blood for minutes on end, the material itself was holding on well, but the various runes and sigils inscribed on its surface saw their shapes altered ever so slightly, ruining the carefully constructed prison.

The creators had made the mistake of linking all of the parts together, so as to achieve a greater result more easily, but this meant that the slightest of disturbances would affect the integrity of the seal in its totality.

Like an egg, the sphere cracked and from there, Loimos could easily punch his way in, although impressive, the sphere wasn't enormous, and the structure trapped within was even smaller, curiously, what little of this place remained was constructed out of colourful clay, much in opposition to what the undead had been made to traverse before.

Most importantly however, there were two undeads in there, one was dressed in tattered robes, appearing like a dried corpse with bright eyes, a draugr that Loimos could almost with certainty, link to one of the king's advisors, whilst the other…

Pale beyond belief, a look of sickness in his eyes, barely any hair remaining on his decrepit head, somewhat exaggerated facial features and overly wide shoulders, with two sharp fangs protruding, Loimos could tell that this was a vampire sharing blood with Nosferatu, this one lacking some of the other bodily features of the lord however, marking him as a rather weak vampire, perhaps even a dhampir or ancient thrall that had gotten lucky maybe.

The two other dead bodies stopped what they were doing, seemingly taken aback by his entrance, more surprised by Loimos than the fall of the crypt, but it was no matter, the draugr was hiding behind a barrier he had manifested, the vampire battering his fists against it, but unable to break the barrier as the mage constantly repaired it, seemingly never running out of mana.

Letting loose of his concealed death force, he said one thing in the language of the dead:

"Artencil" he spoke the name of who he believed the Draugr was, the mage reacted with a nod, the vampire seemed confused.

Loimos's hollow sockets brightened with the dark purple glow, the light peering through the minuscule holes of the eyes and various cracks now adorning it.

Without hesitation, a pulsing tide of rot struck the vampire, pushing him right against the clay wall, in response, he smashed his fist down on the wall behind him, freeing himself as he bit into his wrist, controlling his blood to stop the rot.

Not showing reactions as Loimos directed a few more words his way, clearly, this vampire couldn't understand a lick of death tongue, and had been attacking an advisor of the king, clearly, this man right there was no undead, he lived in death.

And he dared do so in the presence of the pure undead.

Still, even if weak, he was a still carrying the foetid blood of Nosferatu, the mightiest vampire lord, using his blood to force an opening through the rot, the treacherous corpse landed a punch squarely in Loimos's chest, lifting him off the ground.

Indeed, even this betrayer, armed with the gravelords blood, hit harder than that orc from back then.

Obviously unfazed, Loimos wrapped his legs around the arm that struck him and leaned forward so much that it seemed his back had broken, striking the vampire straight to the face with his spiked left hand.

Pushing the skeleton away, the two cadavers steadied themselves for round two.