Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

I have searched through much of my family’s lost archives, all in an effort to excavate the past back into the light, so that it may not be forgotten, so that we may learn from it, so that we may avoid the mistakes of yore.

In my research, I have dug up the retelling of a most noble, and mighty hero, sadly forgotten in spite of his legacy still staring us all in the face.

All of us have heard, or seen, death hunters, valiant men and women who fight against the undead scourge without fear.

Yet, none of us, none of them remember The Death Hunter, the very first who took a stand against death, the world we live in today would have been much different if not for his actions.

He was the one to speak those words:

I lack context of why or when he professed this sentence, but I can still see their value.

The plague of the living dead, foul and hypocritical creatures preaching the joys of death, unable to realise that all they do is merely live in death.

They dare look down on the living, us, who breathe and whose hearts beat.

The practitioners of necrolatry in the underground tower would only agree with such an idea, but The Death Hunter could see past the obvious, he could see that there was beauty and power in life.

He believed that the living could overcome their fear of death and be triumphant over the animated corpses.

His name was Thanatok Ynigós, and I ask that we remember him.

- Extract of ’Forgotten Heroes’ by Bethome Meleme.

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Stolgob felt his resolve grow stronger as his fatigued legs took him to the vile skeleton in only a few seconds, the distance separating them hadn’t been much, still, in the state he was in, the swiftness of his approach was remarkable.

He got into position, the edge of the axe was somewhat chipped in certain parts, but it remained sharp nonetheless, this weapon had been cared for and looked over.

Repeating the actions of his chieftain, he aimed for the undead’s midsection, swinging from the side where the corpse was missing an arm, as his muscles tightened and expanded the size of his arms, a certainty appeared in his mind.

He was convinced the skeleton in front of him would be unable to dodge, that the axe strike would reach its target and split the cadaver in half.

Loimos chucked the ball of rot he had been making with any strength, it was only a distraction to get the goblin to rush him down, it wasn’t going to shoot out like an arrow or anything.

The small conglomerate of rot went over the goblin’s head, taking his attention just a little bit.

Reaching up, Loimos grabbed hold of a sturdy branch just above his head, grasping it firmly.

Stolgob had no idea what Loimos was trying to achieve, and he had committed to this strike too much to stop his movement.

He could only watch in wonder as Loimos hoisted himself up into the air just a little, still allowing the axe to go right through his spine above the hips area.

Still, Stolgob slashed right through with incredible ease, too much ease in fact, his momentum wasn’t stopped in the slightest and he found himself almost losing his balance.

Loimos’s lower half fell to the ground, cutting his own weight by a large margin and allowing him to rise his body up with tremendous ease and control, the rot stuck within his rib cage trembled for an instant.

His ribs seemed to expand and move on their own, producing a sickening sound, making the goblin feel like dropping everything and run away right at this instant.

Stolgob didn’t have time to make any decision however, Loimos dropped right on his head, the goblin’s head was submerged in decay and rotten blood, sticking to his face and eating away at him without any respite.

The green monster threw himself blindly, trashing and rolling around in an attempt to remove the undead from him but it was all useless, the rot decomposed his eyes, lips and tongue in only a few moments as the dark blood invaded his insides.

The instant it reached his brain, he stopped all movements and laid still.

Loimos looked at Irgob’s shuffling feet as she tried to wiggle her way into the tunnel, he simply left the rot to eat away at Stolgob’s body as he began to make his way toward her, crawling as he opened his jaw.

He repeatedly bit right through her feet and legs, to the point that he tore everything that was within his reach, his sharp fangs coated in his oil-like blood, the wounds already looked infected after only a few seconds.

Blood loss eventually claimed her life.

Stolgob had failed everything he had attempted, but thankfully for the late goblin, Loimos wasn’t going to disparage him or his efforts, it was something the living did, not the dead.

Loimos’s lower half walked up to him on its own, it might look like nothing, but retaining pristine control over body parts separated from the head completely wasn’t something any undead could achieve with such precision, some not at all.

Using his rot to try and stitch himself back up, Loimos hadn’t actually been slashed in two, he had just disconnected part of his spine, which was why the goblin had felt no resistance whatsoever, he wouldn’t have had much more problems had Loimos not done this.

Though it wouldn’t have been nearly as easy to reconnect, he had been the one to split himself, so putting it back together only took a few hours with the miasma produced from the generator eating away at Stolgob’s body and Loimos’s own rot.

By a few hours, it really meant that a whole day and half had passed before he was stuck together enough again to move without falling apart.

Making his way back to the shore, the deathly fog had already washed over the place the goblin’s had been slaughtered, their bodies accelerating the spread by a notch.

The bodies had been consumed whole already, not even leaving behind their bones, the only bones left behind were those belonging to the undeads that had been destroyed.

All of the ancient undeads had fallen, all of the tribesmen may have been killed but Gobstoz had replied in kind, taking them all down, including the bone giant, before breathing his last.