The spores spread and grew beneath his skin, rising and rising untill they burned it away. Nalzaxx screamed with the agony, and then fell silent, his body stripped to a skeleton resemblance of himself.
He smiled.
His flesh, his poxed, disease ridden, fetid flesh was gone. He had found what he had sought since he arrived on this isle, the one way to be free of the Gods' curse, to breach their curse, and to be without pain once more. Undeath.
Samantha scooped some holy waters of Ushara and brought them near. Nalzaxx backed sharply away, he was aware of their effects. Not only would they burn his soul as was decreed, but they would restore his hopeless and decaying shell of a body. No, he would not take the water.
He wandered awhile, thinking gently to himself, how had this come about, how had one of the diseases the Gods had made to tormet him become his saviour. Who was responsible, who was that man...that thing...that had unleashed the spores as a punishment, and yet in doing so had granted Nalzaxx what he had sought for so long.
Nalzaxx settled outside the town walls, he knew they would not welcome him there anymore, atleast untill he was able to cover himself sufficiently, he was used to that, it would not be much of a burden. What weighed with more force upon his mind was the man responsible, surely a man of great power, perhaps that man could also restore his magics. Nalzaxx drifted to an uneasy sleep, he would find the man, else the man would find him. There was much thanks to be given, and much more to be gained....
The Nauseous Blessing
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