Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

"Good Sir! May I interest you in a lotion made from perfectly naturally grown solar apples? With it you will drastically reduce your chances of being burnt by the sun!"

"No"

Loimos had not, in fact, considered the possibility that the elves would be, not only agreeable to his sinister presence, but desperately trying to have him take all of their stuff, they didn't even try to sell them to him, literally pushing their random products in his arms, barely bothering to get his approval.

Not that he minded getting a bunch of new things to decay, but they were forming a veritable wall, he had to make way himself, parting the sea of elves in two, they were definitely not the same sort of elvish species as The Elven Light was, although, they definitely liked her quite a bit, having built many more altars in her honour, girls and women dying their hair pink to resemble her. Stay tuned with empire

As offensive as it may be, they weren't succeeding much in this endeavour, the wood elves had a somewhat bark-like or yellowish complexion, nothing like that of the heroine, whose skin tone was of a magnificent fairness, just a step away from appearing sickly pale, equilibrated perfectly, that looks was impossible to replicate, probably not even amongst her own kind.

Loimos was able of putting a stop to their nagging by simply inquiring about her, they didn't know much at all apart from some few exploits, they seemed to just really like her style, now knowing what sort of people they were, a bit too nice and willing to make gifts, the undead decided that it would be best to avoid any of their dwelling areas, recognisable by being the only places were the density of trees was higher than the rest.

They lived in and on trees, nature growing and adapting to their needs, life making way for more life, truly despicable, dystopian even.

The wildlands were not aptly named, the wilderness was awfully peaceful at all times, and everything here ate plants, true herbivores were incredibly rare, and yet, this entire region was filled with nothing but them, even then, they couldn't put a dent in the vegetation with combined efforts.

But at least, apart from the denizens that could swarm someone in just a few moments, travel was without any problems, the land was mostly composed of flatlands, the overgrown bushes and grass could not stop the caravan Loimos had created from himself, although, he would still sometime stop and act like he needed to get rid of some stray objects stuck in his wheels, he was committed to the bit.

But the real obstacle had never been the wildlands, but the mountains, several times larger, and more dangerous than the ones he had once crossed, although, technically speaking, it did not seem nearly as dangerous, there was roads carved in the side of the tumultuous peaks after all, filled with snow and without railing to catch one if they fell, but roads nonetheless.

They simply weren't commercial roads, those were as safe as it could get, the roads here had been there for a long time, predating any sort of known expeditions, they inspired a fear of the unknown, who had built them? Were they still around? If they were, would they be friendly?n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Meaningless wonders that could only disturb the fragile mind of the living, Loimos went into the mountains without hesitation, his carriage shifting its shape now that no eyes should be able of seeing it, shovelling the snow away, unhindered by it, only slowed by the fact that the roads needed to be manoeuvred with great care.

Plenty of sharp turns, slops going up and down, some treading much too close to being entirely vertical, the path growing thinner in certain areas, and of course, the natives here were a bit less amicable than the elves.

Floating snow and ice spirit-like beings, endlessly pestering the skeleton with countless barrages of projectiles, none of it being a threat on its own, but the little beings followed his caravan and would grow in numbers until they were simply able to bury him while in movement.

Loimos stopped, manifested compressed blood encased in rot, with simple claps of his hands, he propelled piercing drops at them, his higher mastery allowing from greater precision and to detonate the drops at a precise timing, leading to many of them to just drop into the deep chasm below.

After a while, the rest seemed to get the hint and floated away, still targeted by Loimos, they did not relay word to one another however, the undead had to execute many more whilst only travelling barely a single percent of the path to his destination.

The spirits did not go away, and the trouble accumulated, most peculiar beings inhabited the snowy tops, humanoid figures carrying tall icicles, which they used as catalyst to cast spells of frost, they packed otherwise higher power than the spirits, damaging the caravan repeatedly.

Since it was a complex creation of rot, Loimos could easily regenerate it, but the freezing aspect was more difficult to deal with, further slowing him, they attacked from the height of the mountains on the other side, not quite outside of Loimos's range but it was much less effective, the waves of cold they conjured without stopping froze his blood bullets, falling uselessly.

To avoid being the constant target of their ire, he manifested rotten birds, the creations not faring very well in this weather, but still capable of taking the attention of the casters, this little rodeo lasted for a week, until the road the undead was followed led him up, all the way to the top of the mountain he was currently treading upon, the very top adorned with bluish grass, no snow at all, a single tree standing on the flat mountain top.

"It's me again, or rather, it was me last time, and now it is just a husk I am projecting through, as I thought, you are headed to that place, what a shame for you, remember our little party back in the forest of thorn? I will not act myself, but involving others is a possibility, at least, a certain sort"

It was The First Seed again, monologuing at Loimos, thankfully, his speech was cut short as the guest he had called upon arrived, landing straight on the withered tree, blasting it to pieces.

Standing up on its legs, flexing its feathered wings, those on its chin swept around by the freezing winds.

The ruler of the mountains had been called upon to deal with an intruder.