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come baaaaaaaaack….
Xanos' Slave was not exceptionally bright, but it knew enough to be able to tell when an idea was not going to work. It let go of the enormous pot of sand and turned to bring it's halberd down on the archer Mistress Price was engaging.
Slave stares back.
The soldier lazily follows, his blank, unblinking stare hidden by his helm.
Xanos' slave unfolds itself with a series of pops as its bones settled back into position. Xanos gestures and it begins dressing itself in the armament of a guard. Xanos settles the iron circlet Thorn had given him on slave's head and carefully instructs slave to operate it in a way that copied Alaric and Cain's general appearance. Moments later a vacant-eyed guardsman stood with the rest armed with sword and shield.
Slave comes dressed in Bermuda shorts and a floppy hat, his ribcage packed full of ice and beer bottles. Occasionally Xanos shoots him with a Ray of Frost when he starts leaking on the floor. "Drrrrrrrrrnk?"
The man's pleas for mercy are ignored by the masked creature, who savagely continues it's master's orders.
The creature whipped to face the sailor who was still standing, hissing wetly beneath it's mask.
The masked creature stepped out of the box drawing a metal bar from within the neck hole of it's lose robes. It stepped into the nearest sailor and swung with inhuman savagery.
The masked Slave abruptly leaves the dead triton, follows it's master, steps into the trunk it had emerged from and sinks down inside, folding itself in unnatural ways before pulling the lid closed with a thump.
At it's master's gesture, the slow and methodical movements the masked creature had used to haul the rope immediately switched back to savage and murderous swiftness, hefting it's metal club and beginning to wail on the net with relentless up and down strokes.
The Slave of the Spiral stopped it's assault and ignored the water creature in front of it as it's only barely conscious mind received new telepathic intentions from it's master. It took the offered net, tied it's lead rope to the floating line in it's master's ghostly hand, then looked out at the creature in the water. Then with mystic accuracy, it threw.
Slave continues it's mindless and savage assault on the elemental.
The masked and hooded figure raises his metal bar and savagely brings it down on the living puddle again.
Seeming to rise out of the shadows themselves, a masked and hooded figure unkinked itself from the box where it had been folded in a distinctly unnatural way. It reached into it's hood and drew forth a long, heavy bar, seemingly coming from within it's own body. It stepped forward and brought the metal club down in a vicious arc.
Get ready for the new, improved Slave of the Spiral! It doesn't stink anymore! It doesn't drip anymore! Now it smells like leather and sandalwood! It's wearing a thick wool monk's robe with a low hood and a nice scarf around its leathery neck. With the nice incense burner held in it's gloved hands and swinging on a short chain, it looks like a simple priest on a pilgrimage! Under those robes its wearing Hide armor shaped to help it look like a normal human! No more emaciated hunchback! Xanos has hollowed out its ribcage and sewn a chainmail bag inside it! The bottom of it sits nicely inside its pelvis. Now volatile chemicals and anything you wouldn't want to carry can be stuffed down the Slave's neck! That sack also serves as a sheathe for the heavy iron club Slave can draw from inside it's chest when things get messy! Here at Working Dead Enterprises, Xanos can custom design the walking corpse of your dreams! Get your very own undead slave today!
Mmmmmmmaaakeooooover....
After all of Xanos' crafting there's 148 GP left. Enjoy.
stupid autocorrect... Assume, not saint.
Slowly, the thing that was once a man obeys.
As the dripping corpse rose it's axe to finish it's master's bidding Xanos shook his head. "Enough." It immediately went back to standing inertly, arms limp, eyes staring, axe dragging on the ground.
Shrug, he missed anyway. No biggie.
The damp shambling creature lunges to homicidal life, surging forward with all the finesse of a crazed dog unchained by it's master.
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