TW: Blood, body horror, mentions of death
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@frostcorpsclub
Far to the north, in a frozen wasteland separated from civilization by entire oceans, two creatures wandered without direction. One was a tall, solemn ghost of a man whose body was eternally cursed by the cold. He smelt of freezerburnt, rotting meat. The other, a smaller thing, was a dark skeleton who wore a chunk of flesh against the left half his face. His bones smelt of carcinogens and burnt cigarettes.
Neither creature said a word since they arrived in this strange place. Jeagar could harbor a guess as to why. John had objected to the idea of leaving their home realm the second it was proposed . "Ooooh, but what if we cause irreparable damage to the cosmos?? Man was not intended to leave the universe he was birthed in, oooohh," was the jist of his frozen friend's objections. Honestly, Jeagar only half listened to John when he went on his little altruistic tangents.
He was disappointed by his associate's lack of vision, but not surprised. John was never the type to look at the bigger picture. After all, he had a tendency to focus on what could go wrong instead of what could go right. Besides, it was not as though they had come to mindlessly gawk at foreign oddities. Jeagar had also come with slightly good intentions.
For six months before the two undead came to this world, the skeletal holder came into contact with an unnamed, badly injured wanderer lost in this snowy desert. The two would converse back and forth about the terrible beasts this doomed soul was forced to confront on a near daily basis. Interestingly, they would always seem to wriggle their way out of any bad situation they faced, usually in some fantastical, paragraph-lengthy manner.
Whoever this person was, they were clearly someone of great magical talent. They would no doubt make a useful ally, or a good specimen for a Necromance undead if they finally did succumb to the elements.
During the aimless travels of the two undead, they finally came across something of note. It was an ominously fresh trail of blood, clearly created by something large. Perhaps an injured animal had been dragged through the snow recently. Looking ahead, Jeagar could tell the macabre path went on for at least a few miles.
"Was that your friend?" John asked meekly as he pointed to the horizon, finally breaking the lengthy silence.
"Could be," Jeagar spoke through his persistently grinding teeth. "I suppose the only way to know for sure is to follow it."
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Background was taken from a post by @waltz-in-the-ninth-dimension
