The midnight holler that becomes more prevalent the further away from civilization seemed to grow in wildness with each passing moment. Until it finally just stopped. An eerie quiet that is replaced with the lamentations of the dead when he finally reaches the entrance of the graveyard. "Alright ya bag o' bones - where are ya?" He grumbles as he raises his stocky arm to snap the lock of the gate with his axe, swinging open the steel barrier. The zombies were an issue, of course, and stealth was not a skill the dwarf possessed.
The undead were quick to spot Karstaag, but luckily slower to move than the little man on his stumpy legs. He's doing well to evade the horde, smashing their heads with his own thick skull or the sharp side of his axe if the situation was dire enough. He's cursin' up a storm, throwing extreme profanities in this place that has become in and of itself - profane. This little comedy show continues on for quite some time, the worn, ragged dwarf was just about to call it quits, until finally he heard a voice. "H-Hello? What's all the racket? Oh, please, help me! Take me with you!"
Karstaag hoots and bellows out at the skeletal figure! "YOU!" He hops towards the bony man with malicious intent at this point, fists clutched so tightly as he gallops like a raging bull, roaring. It's too late for the skeleton before he realizes how endangered he truly was. Karstaag slams into him and tears the skull from its body, chattering away with pleas that would go unanswered. "QUIT YER YAPPIN' I DUN' WANNA 'ERE IT!" He shoves the skull into his pouch, muffled sounds that would instead go unheard.
He made his escape from the sepulcher by the skin of his teeth (and thankfully with no teeth in his skin.) He was grumpy now. Way too much work for a nighttime venture. Sulking on his way to the clients location. He was in a fit of sobering rage that become a blur. All he remembers is yelling "TAKE THE MADDENING BONY BASTARD!"
The rest was washed away in mug o' ale.
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