Darkest Knight

They entered the city a fortnight ago. we initially thought them as lepers, as our town is famous for receiving them. They usually come to receive last rites and gift us with their last breaths. But they were no lepers, but monks of an unholy religion. They came preaching about a God of Hate who feeds on pain and suffering. They came to tell us that our religious practices are abominable to their deity, and that we should incinerate our dead.

The mere thought of reducing a perfectly good human body to ashes makes me sick. Our festivals honoring our dead ancestors could never take place, when we invite our deceased relatives for dinner, would have to be abandoned if we allowed the infidels to have their way.

My arms were cut yesterday fighting one of their paladins, we would have normally stitched them back but they were smothered and unusable, so I asked Lord Kreyt, my father’s father’s father to lend me his.
With his lipless smile he blessed me:
“Give them hell, May the Necropolis never fall”

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