Undeterred by the loss of his companion, Raim decides that the best way to Lanvi is through his former master. He draws his longsword and strikes.
The clumsy weapon goes very wide, leaving Arimar's glimmering armor untouched.
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Raim hungers for the one who has wronged him. The early dawn light shows his bloated corpse. The bloating belies how hungry Raim truly is, the insatiable drive to feed that controls his every move. Raim is by seawater penetrating its rotted skin - not by feasting on fresh, living flesh. This is a situation the zombie wishes to correct. To do so, he will feed on his betrayer. "Llllllaaaaaannnnnnvvvvviiiiiii," he moans as early morning passers-by give him a wide berth.
With his master aboard, Raim continues to struggle with the ropes to attempt the climb himself.
He slips and falls, but it worries him not. He simply picks himself up and wanders upon the waves after the departing ship.
At Arimar's urging, Raim drops the hadozee into the depths of the water and also rushes up to the side of the boat. He too waits for a rope, ready to climb up and wreak havoc on some more hadozee.
At Arimar's orders Raim and Fido flank the hadozee harassing Malgrim. Once in position Raim lashes out with his longsword.
While Fido comes around to flank, Raim lashes out with his drawn sword, laying into the hadozee who damaged his master.
Raim pulls ponderously upon the oars.
She ends with an eye roll. Raim obediently sticks his tongue out. It lolls lifelessly from his putrid maw as he gropes inexpertly at the decaying flesh that passes for his man-parts.
Raim gets uncomfortably close to Arimar. The necromancer wonders if he should not also have his nostrils burnt out in addition to his tongue.
Raim continues to obey his last command. A chunk of his shoulder separates from his body and slides into the water.
Raim collects the halberd, and steps back a little - his dead fighter instincts kicking in and granting his dead self knowledge that most zombies do not. Raim holds it ready to pierce any bunyip that shows itself within his range. . : Raim lashes out with the pole arm that the Colonel supplied to all on the ship after the sea-paladin's warning.
Raim stays off the ship and in the rowboat, continuing to pull at the oars even though the sargassum directly in front of him has yet to be cleared. The seaweed tangles in the oars and eventually halts all progress, but still Raim continues rowing.
Raim stops his ceaseless rowing. In this heat, the etheric stench of his liquifying innards vied with the scent of weeks-old sweat, s*@% and fishguts' cooking that clung to Plank and Gizzards for dominance as the worst smell on the rowboat. "..." he says as his mouth droops open lazily and remains so.
If Raim notices Caerador's amusement, he gives no indication of it. His face remains as soggy and impassive as ever.
Raim complains not at all as his hands are forcefully tied to the oars. It takes a few goes, and some effort in securing the oars, but eventually he manages the circular motion required. It is not the most masterful rowing, but his pace is relentless and continues day or night. Equipping him with a halberd, the crew realizes he is equally adept at cutting through the sargassum. Something deep within his dead mind recalls how to use the weapon.
"Ha."
"'Kay...." drools Raim as he waits for orders. Logan tells him to pull this and that rope and Raim does his best.
"Me.... Raaaaim," Raim the Mindless strains to get the words out.
Raim loses a shoe as he is dragged along behind the cart. Not long afterwards, the top of his foot begins to scrape off also and a long strip of skin starts flapping from the back of his foot in the same way he is flapping off the back of the cart. "Follow... master..." he groans.
Raim the Mindless follows along, scaring the occasional passer-by with his stench.
Most casual observers, though, think that Raim is just a bum rushing along behind a group of adventurers for no apparent reason.
Without protest, Raim the Mindless shuffles forwards on his bloated legs. No more confident striding for Raim. He moves as though a puppet on slack strings. His only desire to obey his Master. Master Arimar. Master told him to follow. He will obey. "Maaaaaster..." Raim manages. |