[center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/dHRmLjY2LmZlZTMwMC5SWHBsYTJsbGJDQktiM0pwYjI0LjA/angel-bandit-demo.regular.webp[/img]
[img]https://i.imgur.com/Cq67IYB.gif[/img][/center]
[color=FEE300]Race:[/color] Aasimar
[color=FEE300]Class:[/color] Paladin
[color=FEE300]Location:[/color] Stormrider; Top Deck
[color=FEE300]Equipment:[/color] His longsword; [url=https://i.imgur.com/0dnfaQH.jpeg]Retribution[/url] and a [url=https://i.imgur.com/TAGHTJ2.jpeg]healing amulet[/url]. A [url=https://i.imgur.com/92lzGaT.jpeg]backpack[/url] with supplies and his [url=https://i.imgur.com/pSHLAct.jpeg]lute[/url]. 
[color=FEE300]Attire:[/color] [url=https://i.imgur.com/cVUVpsf.jpeg]Clothing[/url] and [url=https://i.imgur.com/pezKStD.jpeg]gloves[/url]
[color=FEE300]Gold Balance:[/color] 30
[color=FEE300]Injuries:[/color] Old injuries include a missing eye, numerous iridescent scars, and a knee that aches when it rains.
[hr]

[color=silver]It was easy to spot a necromancer. 

A hollowness behind their eyes. A sallowness to their skin. Death clung to them; it raised the hair on the back of one’s neck, sent a shiver down the spine, and made the pulse quicken- things people could ignore or pass off as a ‘bad vibe.’ 

Ezekiel was far too familiar with necromancers not to notice one. He caught the subtle odor of decay that clung to the elderly man as he walked past. No matter how much they bathed, what oils and fragrances they used to try to mask it, the smell of death always lingered on their skin. 

His head turned, and his eye caught a glimpse of the man’s face. Time slowed. 

Ezekiel saw that same face, now with its wrinkles gone, as if time had reversed. A man still in his prime, posture straightened, dressed in the red and black of Karrnath, commanding a legion of undead soldiers. That subtle whiff of decay he'd caught on the man amplified. The air became thick and suffocating with its sour scent. A cloying rot that clawed down his throat. 

Ezekiel’s hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. [i]An airship was not the place to bisect a likely retired Karrn general. The war was over. It was possible that the elderly man had given up necromancy. There were quieter ways to end a life. A tumble off the side of the ship could look like an accident.[/i] His head began to throb just behind his eye. 

He watched the man walk past a towering warforged. For a moment, his hawk-like focus on the necromancer vanished, and he studied the machine with a softer expression. There was no mistaking the warforged origins; the elegant machine was of Cyran design. The sight of that warforged, of a Cyran brother, supplied a warmth that stung beyond words. 

Warmth fanned the fire, hatred burned brighter, and the glow of his eye intensified. Those who held a hatred of the warforged had it wrong. The machines were not the monsters of The Last War; that title belonged to the undead forces of Karrnath. 

And every horror caused by the undead came from the hands of necromancers. 

[color=FEE300][i]The world could do with one less twisted mage toying with death.[/i][/color] 

[i]Snap![/i]

The sound of bone breaking drew his attention away from the elderly necromancer. He turned and spotted a child, his expression a mix of pain, fear, and shock, who sat cradling his arm on his lap. Above the boy, a woman in a dark and decorated kimono attempted to comfort him with a hand on the kid's shoulder. The woman called out for a doctor and a couple of concerned passengers went to fetch the ship’s physician. 

Ezekiel headed down the ship’s deck, the opposite direction from the necrommancer's path and toward the woman and the injured boy. 

[color=FEE300]“I’m not a doctor, but I can do some healing magic.”[/color] He gave the pair a respectful nod of his head before kneeling down to the boy’s level. 

[color=FEE300]“It’ll hurt and take a few sessions, but I can expedite the healing for your son’s arm.”[/color] He offered, his eye flickered from the boy the woman standing over him. [color=FEE300]“Get you back to enjoying your voyage as quick as possible.”[/color] 

Ezekiel waited for their answer and returned his attention to the child. [color=FEE300]“Ever broken a bone before?”[/color] He asked the boy, trying to distract him from the pain.[/color]