The shadow thing stood at the lip of the cave, the darkness of night stretching before it. It had languished in the darkness for months, drawing itself a form not unlike its old one. Muscle and sinew, flesh and bone, all knitted together by the whisps of aether leaked from the void and used to alter the muck and water the soul had resided in, deep within the subterainian vault, to form a new vessel to house its soul. Now the thing felt strong enough to leave its hole and walk among the living once more.Â
The thing was humaniod in shape and covered in black robes and a black hood. A silver sword, thin and polished, was clutched in its left hand and the figure leaned upon it like a cane. A crow sat on the figure's right shoulder, the bird far larger than a normal crow, with eyes that glowed a dull red, like dying coals.Â
The figure in black slowly limped forward, its feet sinking in the mud of the swamp. Gridania smelt of rot in this place, and the sky overhead was blocked out by rows of tree limbs and leaves. It was absolutly dark, but the figure in black saw just fine as it lifted its head just enough for its black eyes to see past the cowl, eyes blacker than the night around it.Â
The figure moved slowly, the bird on its shoulder whispering in a cracking voice words that told the location of the person the figure sought. After a few moments, the bird sprung into the air, a shower of molted feathers falling behind it. The bird rose up into the black sky and emitted a shrill caw and then, in its crackling cawing, repeated a single word:
"Kkkkindness! Kkkkindness! Kkkkindness!"
The wind blew and the crow was lost in the darkness of the night as the thing in black continued its slow march north.
The thing was humaniod in shape and covered in black robes and a black hood. A silver sword, thin and polished, was clutched in its left hand and the figure leaned upon it like a cane. A crow sat on the figure's right shoulder, the bird far larger than a normal crow, with eyes that glowed a dull red, like dying coals.Â
The figure in black slowly limped forward, its feet sinking in the mud of the swamp. Gridania smelt of rot in this place, and the sky overhead was blocked out by rows of tree limbs and leaves. It was absolutly dark, but the figure in black saw just fine as it lifted its head just enough for its black eyes to see past the cowl, eyes blacker than the night around it.Â
The figure moved slowly, the bird on its shoulder whispering in a cracking voice words that told the location of the person the figure sought. After a few moments, the bird sprung into the air, a shower of molted feathers falling behind it. The bird rose up into the black sky and emitted a shrill caw and then, in its crackling cawing, repeated a single word:
"Kkkkindness! Kkkkindness! Kkkkindness!"
The wind blew and the crow was lost in the darkness of the night as the thing in black continued its slow march north.
