Snippet #1305866

Somewhere across the false veils between Gavilla and the Afterworld, a soul drifted. At least, that's what the soul thought it was doing. It wasn't exactly sure; being dead was a very peculiar circumstance for this particular had-been. Surrounding it was a facsimile of the rail car, colors muted and cooled like the sound of a pendulum just as it reached the height of its swing, drawn on and on and on... Shadows moved around him, but the spirit felt no fear. It noticed that it felt no fear and contemplated what else it didn't feel. It did so. The shadows moved and danced about him. Something urged the spirit onwards towards somewhere, promising less monochrome and more resolution. Unconsciously, the spirit obeyed and moved. It did not move up nor down, left nor right, nor any comprehensible direction at all. But nonetheless, the spirit moved on. The spirit felt good.

Then he felt a tug. Then he fell backwards. Then he felt the shadows drown him. Then he felt the suffocation of lungs that did not breathe inside a body with no heartbeat. Then the spirit felt pain. And it began to kill.

"....ghaul nidarchal." said Bae'myr as he reanimated the cadaver into a revenant in the midst of the melee. No control. No mind. No mercy. Forgive me, Ilztyrn.