Status: Angry, wounded and frightened resurrectionist, now XPC!
Lives in a castle a couple of days' march west from Hestebyn
When will they learn to understand? Today's so-called "heroes" are nothing
but pale shadows of the giants of yore. It's such a pity we can't live in
those times. But we can let the heroes of the past live again; live
today!
Oh, the people wouldn't listen. Yes, they cast me out, but I've found this
great abandoned house - like a castle - where I can work without anyone
bothering me. I've made friends with this totally crazy goat
Didactylos, and he seems to be able to
keep everyone away, especially since I put my services at his disposal.
I've made great progress. So far, I've found out that certain fluids
in conjunction with lightning, while muttering specific words I foound
in that "unholy" book can do the trick. I can still only re-animate
fresh bodies this way, but I'm researching further in the book. Maybe
I can find out a way of restoring flesh from the morphic memory of the
soul.
Lately, the shadows seem to creep closer. I have difficulties
concentrating, as the noises everywhere remind me that I am not alone
after all. Generations upon generations wait for my discovery, and I
feel I can almost hear their voices, deep and hollow like a cold wind
from the dark prison of death they dwell in. Oh, but it must be the
wind, surely. Some day I have to get someone here to look to the castle,
and maybe find out what's causing these strange smells as well. No, wait!
I forgot, I can't do that, or they will try to stop me. Well, I can go
on without help. This wind won't kill me, I'm sure. Now, I hope I can
finish this corpse before the candle dies...
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