After negotiating his passage through into the Greymerrow Graveyard, Aadam proceeded to finally enter the objective of his mission. Holding out his sword, he began to cautiously step forward, cautious of surroundings. Despite the ill tidings given to him previously, he had a mission to complete.
Suddenly, the noise of the rustling tall grass reached his ears, alerting him to the presence of a creature that was not his own. Turning around, warily glancing towards the grass he slowly backed away from the direction from which he heard the noise.
Suddenly, out of the grass emerged a zombie. The zombie was followed by several others, lured there by the sight of the living, hungry for the taste of warm flesh.
Blood was splattered around the area of where the lips should have been, only sharp teeth remained there, stained a dark red.
Stunned by the sight of the hideous undead, Aadam raised his sword, to be ready for combat. Swinging his sword downwards towards the a zombie hound's neck, the hound lunged forward, intent on getting a taste of the warm flesh in front of it.
Luckily for Aadam, the sword swung down before the hound could rip into his armor, bisecting the head from the rest of the body. As the head fell downwards, no longer supported by any neck of sorts, it's teeth kept on chomping the air, the desire for blood in the air.
As the hound distracted Aadam, the rest of the other zombies swarmed around Aadam, trying to get their decayed hands to rip into his body. There hands outstretched, Aadam quickly became outnumbered, overwhelmed by the swarm. Stepping backwards, he began to retreat, lopping off what he could to cause further injury. Although his blows were useless.
The zombies made no sign to indicate that they had been struck, furthermore, it seemed like they couldn't feel pain. They're undead after all. They continued to tirelessly pursue Aadam, relentless on devouring the first proper meal they had seen in weeks. The creatures with the shiny stuff were too tough and flavorless. While Aadam, Aadam's meat smelled of promise.
Attracted by the loud commotion of Aadam retreating from the horde of zombies, various other creatures began to arrive at the scene. A swarm of wraiths floated after Aadam, intent capturing his soul, to gain pleasure from his eternal torture. Their cold, ethereal hands outstretched, set on claiming what they could.
Running frantically, Aadam in a panicked fright fled from the storm chasing after him. Putting some distance between him and the undead he turned his head around, and noticed that despite there being a large number of them, they would be quite often cause damage to themselves. Most likely due to how the vessels that they controlled were old and decayed, prone to damage easily. Often times, mid step a leg of one of them would fall off, sometimes an arm depending on the movement.
Hiding behind a rock, he sought to obscure himself from their vision in hopes that they would give up the chase. Sweating hard, he tried to silence his heavy panting, his palms began to clam up shaking in pure nervousness. Sweat ran down his back as he began to hyperventilate, his breath uneven, and ragged. His back pressed against the rock, he swallowed the air greedily as if it would solve his current crisis.
Suddenly, as the zombies lost sight of Aadam they begun to snarl, furious at the lost of should have rightfully been there hunt. Following, their exclamations of fury they turned to the wraiths and other creatures that tried to steal their kill, blaming the loss on them.
Then as the infighting had just erupted and Aadam was beginning to consider making a break for it, a loud sniffing filled the air. The violence from the undead quickly stopped, looking at the Wraxis, waiting for it's orders. The Wraxis continued to sniff the air, the rest of them silent. Aadam's heartbeat quickly sped up, his heart rate rapidly increasing.
The Wraxis began to approach the rock Aadam was hiding behind, the rest of the undead following. The Wraiths with their limited intelligence, saw the direction that the Wraxis was heading, and then drew their own conclusions. Quickly they sped up, outpacing the rest of the swarm.
Beads of sweat flowed down Aadam's forehead, his armor feeling to hot to comfortably be in.
Suddenly, a Wraith passed through the rock he was hiding behind, causing Aadam to jump in fright. He screamed out, attracting the rest of the undead who had yet to catch on to his gimmick.
The zombies, ghouls, hellhounds, etc began an outright sprint towards his location, causing Aadam to curse his luck inwardly.
The wraiths due to their faster speed, began to sap away at Aadam's energy, depriving him of his stamina. Rapidly slowing his speed, Aadam suddenly felt tired as if he had just fought fight after fight with no chance to rest.
Still he continued to sprint, remembering the map, he whipped it out, attempting to get back to the guards so that they may assist him in his escape. Hopefully, they would be able to stave off this horde. He felt guilty about dumping his own problems on them but, like everyone has been saving, he had to do what he could to survive.
He swept his blade at the wraiths, although unable to hit their ethereal bodies, he was still able to cut of their sapping of his power.
Turning his attention back to the deteriorated road, he continued to run, because hell itself was trying to claim him.