An Old Urdimkal, Atlantis
It was one of these days, that seemed to come out of nowhere, at completely random times. One of this days in which the sky would shine, with the cold white glow of the frozen star. It was an irritating light that blinded more than illuminated, and it was always a bad sign. Why? Nobody knew, but it was the general consensus. He'd find out why anyway.
His path had taken him to the site where a particularly savage battle had been waged some seasons ago. Had he decided to spend some time foraging the field, he'd certainly have found remains of the battling armies, like broken shields, rusty swords and such kind of items. Suddenly, the temperature fell harshly, and the white glow turned little by little more... bluish. Yes, he'd never heard of something like that, so he turned back to watch the cursed star, yet what he saw chilled his spine. A group of ethereal-looking Urdimkal soldiers, with seemingly rotten bodies and faces, and damaged clothes, armors and weapons, were advancing towards him. He tried to run, but suddenly saw himself surrounded. When he tried to scream, nothing came out of his throat. He was paralyzed in fear.
"Kiiiiill..." was all he could thought of. He'd been shred to pieces, slowly and painfully. It was incredible the amount of pain one could feel before dying, if he had been able to tell his family about it, none of them would have believed it. Of course he had lost that ability, and was now consumed by an unexplainable anger and desire for vengeance. But it was a blind vengeance, for it was only against the living.
From that day on, whenever The White Curse lit the sky, the ghosts of those who'd have a particularly cruel and painful death would come out of their resting places to strike fear among the mortals.
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(Curse MR3 - Free from The White Curse)
