She awoke suddenly and sprung out of bed. No, she wasn’t having a nightmare this time. Something was still rolling on her bedroom floor towards her feet. She looked up and saw the window was cracked open.
“It couldn’t be…” she muttered, picking up the projectile laying at her feet, as she felt the cold breeze blowing inside. She couldn’t even remember when was the last time they had had such a cold night. Tied to the ice covered rock was a piece of stained parchment. Yes, it was him. It had to be. She raced to the window and looked outside, only to saw a broad figure wrapped in cloaks heading back into the nearby woods.
She turned away and went back to her bed, her long brown hair floating behind like a fine gown, and lit a candle on the night table. Excited and relieved, she opened the paper and started to read, now oblivious to her broken window and the cold air all around her.
“Dear Soraya, When your messenger came to me five nights ago, I couldn’t hear what he said at first. Seeing good boy Jesse again after all these years stirred some old memories indeed. Memories of you and I holding hands, walking in the Yeliki woods or just sitting by the fire during those long winter nights. Do you still remember that one night when you cast me out of our inn? They would not understand, you said, they would hunt me down. It was best for me to leave, just as it was for you. You said you were doing because you loved me, because you had to, because WE had to. But how long has it been now, six years? Seven? I cannot say for sure. But during all this time, I changed. And when Jesse started speaking about the dead rising and stalking the villagers, I felt something else. Could it be that hard for me to configure a new love in hate to my new entity, or banish it home to the grave? No one is safe and I will not save… your world.** -D”
She dropped the letter to the ground as she finished reading. Her lips quivered and her hands were shaking. She realized it was freezing inside her room, but she was also afraid. More than she had ever been in the last days when the dead started to walk the streets at night, more then she had ever been in her entire life. She stared at the window and soon started to panic. The candle! She had been so excited about the letter she had forgotten the undead would surely see her with that light by the window! She quickly put out the small flame, but it was too late: already she could heat staggering footsteps in the snow just outside. Then everything happened very fast. Her bedroom door bursting open, the painful moans, her helpless screams, the teeth and claw raking her flesh, the bite of the freezing air as she was dragged outside and at last, the darkness. And all along, a broad man concealed in the trees watched with sad eyes. When the zombies finished their feast, he shrugged and went back into the woods, a horde of undead on his heels. ==============
The Tormented Warden Playable 1-40 PvM
Race: Human Alignment: Any non-lawful, non-good (NE for roleplay purposes) Abilities: Str 16 (26) Dex 12 Con 12 Int 14 Wis 14 Cha 8
Vitals: Max HP 364 (without adding points from deathless vigor…) Naked AC 29 AC with mundane plate and shield 40 AB +41 Fortitude 22(31) Reflex 20(29) Will 21(30)
Skillset: Discipline 43 Spot 33 Set Trap 33 Open Lock 1 Spellcraft 43 Tumble 40 Taunt 43 Use Magic Device 36
Suggestions/comments are welcome
** These last lines are not from me. They are in fact an excerpt from a song by Coheed and Cambria called "The Willing Well I: Fuel For The Feeding End", found on their latest album. Credit thus goes to Claudio Sanchez, as it was an image in the CD booklet that inspired this build and those lines inspired the story.
