Why couldn’t I strike this stone thing. Something was stopping this blade from moving the last few inches to strike and destroy it yet I couldn’t follow through. It was infuriating, returned and forced to not be able to act out the actions I wanted to, this necromancer may have been more powerful then anticipated. Usually how this would go is some cocky mage would reach out beyond the veil, try and tempt me, and then summon me just to meet the end of my blade for thinking he could control me.
Now though, I saw no necromancer, only this elemental, and I couldn’t attack it, forced to stand here like an idiot. Going along with that I seemed to be in a set of armor already, and it was a rusted thing not worthy of a King to be. It was all so embarrassing, and nothing less then an insult on my noble blood, forced out of the afterlife and into a suit of dirty armor. The elemental stared at me and I could sense….curiosity? This thing was curious of me, a powerful noble of the land who died in glorious combat. That fact made me unsure if I should be insulted or flattered but taken other things into account, insulted was the emotion I stuck with.
I tried again to force the strike but nothing came of it, and I began to growl in my helmet as the injustice of it all was put into the forefront of my mind. It drove my fury farther and farther until I was starting to see red and my metallic armor shuddered with it.
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“calm yourself,” A voice spoke into my head and despite myself and my fury I did. “I called you here to be a guardian, not to kill my first,” So this was the voice of that blasted necromancer, someone I could aim my anger at.
Like I said someone I could aim my anger at.
Nothing.
Just.
“What is this, why can’t I be furious at you, why do I only feel,” I shudder at the word, “loyalty.”
“interesting, well the reason is, I think anyway, I am a dungeon, and you are now one of my monsters.”
I have made a grave mistake it seems, seems father was right, I was always a bit too quick to action.
“FUCK”

