Rigor’s boots stamped out any resistance from the wild fauna before him. His metal boots trampled down the bushes, shrubs, weeds, and bugs that were unfortunately caught in his warpath. Death was his mission, and death is what he would deal out, to all those that found themselves before him, death would come swift and true.
This world would know death once more.
“Oh shit,” She gasped, while her mind continued the mantra. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. The dark-skinned woman gnced behind her, trying to find her footing as the death came steadily marching for her. She couldn’t end here. She had to find her mother and make sure she was okay. She only had her mother left in this world. To die now would be to abandon her mother to her fate.
Rigor raised his axe high, ready to bring it down on her head.
The woman reached into her bag, her mother’s words coursing through her head; the teachings of her childhood she thought so useless were now the only things she could think of.
“Samdei once was a powerful force in this nd, taking all things on the cycle of life and death. Sometimes he would be unfair, taking things that mattered most to us.” The small ivory talisman was thrust into her hands by her mother. “With proper respect, maybe one day he will return, and bring fairness and take those away that bring us pain.”
She dropped to her knees, bowing in the dirt, holding the stiff white talisman in her hands, “Samdei, Lord of Death, please spare me this fate and let me right my wrongs in this life. Bring bance back to life. Samdei, Lord of Death, please…” She continued chanting, her face in the dirt, dust kicking up in her face by her frantic pleas.
Rigor froze stiff, his milky white eyes gazing down at the talisman in the woman’s hands. He lowered his axe, picking up the talisman in his massive gauntleted hand. He turned it over, gazing at a skull, too small for a grown human, but the size of a babies. It was bleached white, its teeth still stuck in pce.
Something inside him stirred. Something was trying to break free.
The woman continued to pray, feeling the cold wet dirt beneath her knees. Her eyes shut tight, waiting for the ending blow to come.
The Death Knight pced the skull back into her hands, listening to her prayers to the Lord of Death, by another name, but still the same in nature. He has known the Lord to be Necroth, she has known him to be Samdei, the same in one, this woman knows death.
Rigor Mortis stepped back and stood at attention, just staring at the woman on her knees. His chest heaving as he rexed his bloodlust. He let out a deep sigh. Something inside him holding him back.
“…let me right the wrongs in this life…” She trailed off as her head was still attached to her shoulders. She looked up, a shadow was cast over her by the bck knight looming over her. He was rexed, his axe held at his side.
She slowly stood, wary of the man, dusting herself off, her eyes never leaving the thing before her. She sheathed her knife and looked over the Death Knight before her.
His armor was deep bck, like a moonless night or a deep dark cavern. The chainmail underneath his pte armor was chinked and rusty. His armor had nicks carved out from the battles she witnessed, and many older looking dents and cuts, chinks in the chainmail, and scrapes all matted with the darkest of bck.
“What are ya?” She questioned him as she made eye contact with those milky dead eyes.
Silence. The river raged beyond. Leaves fluttered in the breeze.
“I don’ know why ya stopped, but thank ya, I have to find mah mother, as well as the others from mah vilge. I need to make sure they are all safe.” Her hand caressed the hilt of her knife; her eyes darted to the ground. “But I am not strong enough. These are just to deter attackers, but I’ve never fought anyone in mah life, only been beaten down. I don’ have the strength to do what I need to do. I feel lost.”
Her eyes looked back into his milky eyes, fighting the dread feelings that lie there, “That is why I approached ya. Ya are wicked with that axe, and I need someone wicked in these parts.”
She tied up her dreads into a ponytail, extending her hand, “If ya would join me, I can take ya to more people. I know a settlement around here, full of lowlifes, likes those here, that could use your personal touch. What say you?”
Her hand just hung in the air; the Death Knight continued to stare.
“Okay then,” She dropped her hand.
The Death Knight began marching on down the river’s edge.
“Hey!” The woman grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
He turned and stared at her.
She let go quickly, wiping her hands on her pants, “There’s a faster way. We can take the bandit’s boat there.” She pointed at the skiff with the metal contraption on the back. “We take that, and we’ll be to Giantown in no time.” She turned and made way to the skiff. “Come on now!”
Rigor marched to the skiff, his metal boots stomping on body parts, crushing them to mush as he went. He felt compelled to follow. Was this the will of Necroth guiding him?
The woman untied the skiff and jumped in, Mortis joined suit, rocking the boat as he boarded. The boat sank down, almost to the water’s edge.
“Whoa,” She kept her bance, moving to the back of the skiff, messing around with the metal contraption. It hummed to life, a long pipe leading out the back of it puffed steam into the air. The skiff jolted forward into the raging river, rocking about as the waves pped against the side, water pushing up over the edge.
“Well, I hope this is the fastest way, we might just end up taking a swim.” She chuckled nervously.
Rigor just sat with his axe across his p, unmoving.
“My name’s Azandrae, Azandrae Baptiste. It’s nice to meet ya…” She gestured to Rigor Mortis. Nothing. “Okay, ya don’t talk much, good to know. Just sit back, and we’ll be there soon.” She pushed her hair back as she gnced at the horror scene left on the river bank, “I hope.”
The steam skiff puffed on down the river, cutting through the waves and headed on down to Giantown.
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