Will of the Dead

To return back to this world is like emerging from a great rest before my time. I do not feel weary in body – indeed, I feel an unnatural strength flowing through my limbs. Rather, I feel weary of this place, these people, of existence itself. I am reluctant now – no, not reluctant – I simply do not have any care left for the affairs of these tiny little towns.

The cleric I must be wary of – either he is a fool and a novice, or he is willfully ignorant. He should know very well what I am, neither dead or alive, he of all of them should have stopped their efforts before bringing about my return. Even if his Raven Queen was involved, I know his people’s distaste towards the walking dead. There is very little to trust except their own brash idiocy.

These fools brought me back from death – and whether it is by their sacrifice or the Raven Queen’s intent, I care little. They waste the little life they have on the effort, and then blindly run further into danger. And the greatest fool is that human, just thinking about him makes my head ache in waves. I see little point in resisting their interests, I will follow them for now and perhaps the Raven Queen will make good on her promise of purpose.



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