Three months was all it took for Matriz to become a wasteland.
Cashel could vividly remember how it started, after all, he was one of the first victims of the Undead.
'Snolls' had long become an unused term, the Undead was more preferable.
—&—&—&—
It was a regular sunny day.
Emira and Cashel had become hired mercenaries helping wherever they could, constantly moving between the light and dark part of society.
The couple were strolling through a desert, dragging the corpse of a wyvern-like monster across the sand dunes, together.
The sun burned with enough intensity to peel off their skin and make them get horrifying blisters which was why Emira was panicky about getting a tan and so they increased their speed, although not by so much.
"Emmy, when we get back... Let's buy mayo." Cashel spoke wearily.
