Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

Unlike Alisart Cleavster, who lived inside a fortified castle surrounded by knights and soldiers, Irlke Combuscrus had taken quarters into a simple hut, elevated over pillars, towns and such in the Northern Swamp were all rather simple, to move from one place to another, there were no secrets, one needed to traverse the swampy lands, often reaching up to one's waists, that was without mentioning that one needed to be rather resistant to a particular effect brought by the swamp itself, few times had invaders experienced it for they had always quickly turned back in the face of the impossible manoeuvrability.

But the swamp was toxic, one submerged within it in any shape or form would slowly be poisoned by simple contact, the northern people were resistant naturally, and could use their flames of pyromancy to cleanse themselves, all of their homes were still over-elevated well above the swamp, some sort of foam forming upon its surface from time to time.

Inhabited by venomous snakes, frogs and bats, those three animals provided the only meat the people could feast upon, all requiring precision to be properly prepared and cooked, having to remove part that could be dangerous to consume, so even then, on these small creatures, they got even less flesh that it seemed.

Their were also hairy wolves that got lost in the swamp from the west, their fur was given to the king and distributed amongst the greater pyromancers, otherwise, people had to make do with garments fashioned from the hide of bats.

Most of their diet was made up of the fruits of the one tree that grew all over the north, crooked growths with thick trunks, and mangrove-like roots, they always yielded many fruits, this was the people quenched their thirst as the waters of the swamp was not suitable for consumption as is.

In these conditions, it was no surprise that the people of the north were not nearly as physically able as their neighbours, but they had something better, once, the north was a land without a lord, left with only stragglers hiding from the endless wars, it was Combuscrus who had the discovered how to cultivate the flame, making him the first and current warking of the Northern Swamp, as the father of pyromancy, he was immensely respected, especially for the fact that the had shared his knowledge with others.

Despite the harsh conditions, the swamp was perhaps the most peaceful of all regions, the territory itself rebuked would-be invaders.

Waking from his sleep as the sun rose, it's rays penetrating through spaces in the wooden walls, his usually bandaged face was uncovered at this very moment, showing a severely warped visage, without even a speck of hair, it was all perfectly cicatrised, but still rather uncomfortable when exposed to the outside air, but the bandages were also useful in protecting his eyes from light, as he had no eyelids to shut.

In this community, such deep burns were a mark of power, signs of having cultivated a flame even capable of singing its master, and having tamed it again nonetheless, as the greatest, Irlke was burned all over his body.

He shielded his face from sunlight, at the moment, he could not quite stand up, clinging close to him was Hylop, his greatest pyromancer, but also his companion, he could very well just get out of this bed anyways, but he quite enjoyed the sensation of her skin against his, of her burns against his.

Their flames of pyromancy also seemed to enjoy one another's presence, which was a sign of great compatibility and promise of healthy children, in the future anyways, having kids when undeads were coming this way seemed like a poor idea.

Eventually however, he had to get up, slithering out of Hylop's warm embrace, he started by wrapped his head with bandages, which were actually made from strips of soft bark from the regional trees, made flexible by exposure to a controlled flame, following this, he threw simple pants and a shirt made from bat hide, the final touch being a rather heavy cloak of aforementioned wolf fur, grabbing a glaive on the way out.

Using it like a cane, the king's hut was not that different from the rest, only that it was situated at the very hand of this little village, which by extension, was technically the north's royal capital, greeting people as he went, making a surprise visit to the younglings inspiring to become bonafide pyromancers.

He always made sure to come by from time to time, just to keep the students on their toes, one needed to know that becoming a pyromancer was not simple, although this very term might be misunderstood by some as designating a particularly skilled fire mage, it's meaning was different in Belliste.

The practice of fire magic was but merely a gateway to pyromancy, which relied not on mana or any other energy, but solely on the flame cultivated and harboured within the pyromancer, they were wholly different, Combuscrus had once been a regular mage of great power, but that was all behind him.

"My lord! I bear news of ill omen" a young woman approached him by running.

"Ah, I see that you hold a spark, congratulations! What is this ill omen, girl?" he commented, it could be a lot of things, the people did not hesitate to ask directly for any problems even if small. Explore more at My Virtual Library Empire

"Sir… Thank you! And it is very bad, people out to gather marshpears spotted the thing you spoke off, a horse rider with no head!" Irlke's face hardened, his glowing red eyes focusing intently.

"Where was it, girl? Near here? Did the word come from another village?"

"From the village this way…" she responded shakily, not used to such intensity from her king.

"This is indeed an ill omen, I have been told by the southern king that the rider was a merciless killer that struck when its victims slept… Was- Did they mention the colour of his apparel?" he asked, sparks already dancing upon his palm.

"Ehrm… They said that it was a dark rider, dressed in black…"

'Different from the one Alisart is dealing with then…'

"Anything more, did it attack anyone?"

"No sir! A pyromancer chased it off! The rider did not try to fight back and just fled" she reported, the king thinking about it for a few moments.

"Very well then, would you have time to carry word to other villages?" he leaned forward to meet her height.

"Of course sir!"

"Good, all pyromancers capable of it are to set up protective measures around every village, and there needs to be at least one of them keeping guard at night at all times, all right?" the king signed for one of the pyromancers teaching the youth to come over.@@novelbin@@

"Accompany her around, and make sure she returns home" he ordered.

He himself had to set up another meeting with the three other regional lords, if his people were also being targeted, then chances were that the others would be too, and as allies, it was only natural to share his concerns with them, no matter how weird it felt to casually discuss with former enemies.