Pestilence: Rise Of The Pure Undead

The knight from the sun swung his heavy hammer again, wielding with an ease and simplicity that could easily make one doubt the supposed weight it carried, but the whooshes of air it caused with every motion were enough of a reminder, and Ir'Houwl got to hear that sound plenty of times within the last few ten seconds or so as she weaved and dodged every of the knight's attack, sneaking in strikes of her own, which while dreadfully strong, were still deflected by the knight's heavy armour.

His armour was seemingly forged out of mundane steel, at least its appearance made it seem so, but that definitely couldn't be the truth, a suit of regular steel would have been cut and torn apart by even an unserious strike of her blades.

Ir'Houwl stepped back and sunk her blades into the white sand all around, flinging her arms forward, casting a wide haze of the pure white sand directly at the knight and most particularly, at the slits that allowed for him to see whilst wearing that great helm.

As calm as ever, the knight struck up an odd pose, rising feet off the ground and tilting his body to the side with the hammer held high, although turning too much allowed for him to evade getting sand in his eyes, the purpose of this strange posture definitely had to lay elsewhere.

Muttering something to himself, the knight stomped his foot down and then brought his hammer down upon the sand, the carvings on the sides of his hammer shining pale blue from the briefest of instants as the white sand rose, at first, simply from the strength and heaviness of the strike, and then, of its own volition.

The grains coalesced together into a tendril of sorts and lashed at the undead like freshly dismembered tentacles, whilst more sand formed into a wave.

Perfectly calm and collected, Ir'Houwl was analysing the situation, that ability had not seemed to be the result of the knight circulating an energy of some sort and then channeling it into the hammer, the weapon itself had been the source of it, meaning that it was probably enchanted, infused or otherwise hallowed, or most likely, the carvings acted as like some sort of runes of glyphs.

In any case, she could tell that the knight's power wasn't one intrinsic to his person.

'Let's take that hammer away, then…' despite definitely not having the vocal cords for it, she whistled as she rushed at the tendril of sand, swiftly slashing it apart and placing a mere handful of her red sand within it, instead of quickly reforming like it was supposed to, the pure white tendril writhed like it was a live, no longer following its creators orders.

The tendril instead lashed out at the oncoming wave of sand, slamming into it before they both dispersed into regular, unmoving sand again.

Not having seen the red sand at all as it vanished into thin air the second the tendril broke apart, the knight had no clue what had just happened and assumed that Ir'Houwl was actually manipulating the white sand directly.

He hesitated, not attacking immediately, if what he thought was true, then she had just controlled the white sand without being armed with a weapon like himself, which naturally meant that she should be another minion of the sun, and one higher-ranked than him.

Turning to the thing he called Watchful Undeviginti, he received no order to disengage, or even the slightest of words, the massive eye was simply locked onto the scene and showed no intention to do anything further.

So, the knight stomped the ground again, only to feel that his hammer was getting heavier than normal, and then, it felt like hands were grasping upon it and pulling it closer to the ground as well, he twisted his neck toward the band of warriors that had followed Ir'Houwl but not yet engaged in combat, upon closer inspection, quite a small amount of them actually carried weapons, only those in the forefront did, the rest were holding out their hands as if reaching for something unseen, whilst others were moving staves and wands around for the most part.

The knight wasn't familiar with what sort of sorcery was taking place right now, but he didn't need to be a genius to understand that this was their doing, but try as he might, his weapon was getting too heavy, and also being wrenched out of his grasp at the same time.

As he debated what to do, Ir'Houwl was already upon him.

The knight himself was a rather tall and burly fellow, and if not for her actually speaking earlier, he would have thought that the undead was also a man as she stood as tall as him and with even wider shoulders.

With most regular movements, turned hazy and odd by the sands stashed within the ample hollows of her clothes, the minor lord rushed up to him and roundhouse kicked him right in the head, letting him feel just how thin her ankle actually was, being basically nothing but bone with some dried flesh stubbornly hanging over it.

His helm was resilient and forced out of powerful material, but at the end of the day, it was much like a regular helm, just stronger, and it wasn't strong enough to absorb the concussive force of that blow delivered with a perfect posture against him who did not move as he was still trying to get his hammer back, but he had to let go no, sent stumbling back in a slight daze.

Before he was allowed to recover, she already struck again, this time striking at his unsteady knee and forcing to bent it before directly kicking right in the face with the full surface of her sole, thankfully, a more spread strike like that was more easily absorbed and also, she didn't wear boots made of tough material, though, he was still forced on his back, Ir'Houwl placed one foot down on his chest and without being given the occasion to struggle, the warrior with the stone sword appeared and pinned down his right arm, other undeads coming in to restrain him.

One of them went ahead and pulled the knight's helm off, revealing an awfully normal-looking, human man, skin appearing as a deeply tan complexion, which seemed about right for a realm with such harsh light nearly always pouring down from the sky, one could even spot old burn marks here and there.

His eyes shined pale blue with black sclera like the gazing sun however, and he had come out from the sun as a comet, so clearly, it was actually incredibly bizarre that he appeared so mundane.

"Knock him out" Ir'Houwl gave an order in death tongue, and the undead with the weathered staff cast a spell at point-blank, directly in his face, which had no obvious effect outside of causing the knight to have his eyes roll back into his skull and fall unconscious.

He was carried into the undead camp alongside his hammer under the watch of the pale blue sun, who once again, did nothing, and didn't seem displeased, or otherwise miffed about it all, if anything it was merely appearing curious.

'Where did that earlier vitriol go?'