No Good Deed- Shadow of the Demon Lord- Prologue

RELICT

Hopping on Rags' descriptive level up bandwagon for fun

By day, Relict lurks in a tent, interrogating the rest of this ad hoc company on the state of the age. And when alone, he stares, near entranced, at the finger bone he carries. Why does he carry it? From whom did it come?

...doom is nigh; they do not stop, they will not remain dead...

By night, he hunts. Animals, for now. He looks to unfamiliar stars, studies a foreign landscape. Nothing stirs his memory. No revelation of his what must once have been his homeland comes to him, no recognizable path along which his captors brought him.

Until, as he obsessively turns the fingerbone in his claws, as if seeking some kind of engraving, memories trickle back in broken flashes.

...towering, black as death - is this our saviour?
"Hail the Witch-King, who has blessed us..."
...And in this tomb banded with black iron will you wait until the Call...


He remembers the forms, the use of sword and claw, but more importantly he feels something dark and eldritch flare in his still heart. Bound by the Blood, empowered by the Blood, master of the Blood.

He emerges on the final night serene and ready. Answers await in his tomb, wherever that may be, and he will find it.