| unholysunblade |
The night wasn’t completely silent as the moon rose above the trees. The landscape was dotted with undead and large arachnids. No, no, not large in relative terms to the paladin in the wintery wasteland- relative to the spiders in the Ghostlands. These buggers were huge and chittering everywhere the elf could lay eyes.
He’d only seen the Argents in passing, riding along on their pale steeds. Isaac was without his mount, and only half-wished for one to fall prey to the Scourge-infested area. His heavy armour didn’t help much, but it did at least keep him warm.
Ahead, he saw a woman in the snow, likely dead, knowing the baddies around. Either dead, or feigning death, expecting Good-natured fellows such as himself to help and then be preyed upon by said ‘victim’. But Isaac couldn’t turn away, no. He approached her steadily but cautiously.
“Ma’am? You alright?”