The Deathless Denied
Death’s hand on occasion denies passage to the deceased, not from mercy, but because some have not yet earned their claim. The Maiden of Morta and the Withered Sire are but two of many living dead cursed to wander the mortal plane, seeking their veiled destinies; their right to an end.
The Maiden’s demeanor is cadaverous and her complexion devoid of the warmth of life. Her weary grey eyes sink deep within their sockets. Worms stir within her nostrils. Her lips, encrusted with sores, have been crudely sewn shut, condemning her to few words. Yet, the rot of undeath has not wholly decayed her beauty and a faint elegance still lingers in her visage.
The Sire is a man left forsaken through epochs. His body is skeletal and shrunken, desiccated nearly to dust, though his mind remains astute, reflected in his lively gaze.
Enveloped in the hush of quietus, the two drift as companions; the Maiden carrying the Sire with what little remains of her strength, and the Sire speaking his aged wisdom for them both. They were last seen trudging the kingdom hidden in the mottled depths of the Enchanted Swamplands, their audience beckoned by the realm custodian. Whispers from the bog speak of an apprentice sorcerer prodigal with his power and eager to cure their affliction of life.