Outside a cave framed by wind-swept snow, a harsh cold wind blew. The snow was misted into the air and from the snowy breeze emerged a horse with an armored rider on top.The rider wore antiquated armor, a coat of mail with a tattered, burgundy tabard and tall greathelmet. He had more modern components to his armor, however, and these included a breastplate, spaulders, arm plating and gauntlets. He had drained much of his power using the cold winds of winter to travel swiftly across the land, and thus stopped to spend a night and recover.
He liked to spend his springs and summers in the colder regions but once winter started to take hold he would travel the winds down to the greener lands to exact his eternal task. He'd killed one necromancer last year, tracked him halfway across the continent and slew him like a dog his fourth so far, and he still felt the satisfaction to this day.
"Here's perfect, Karvar," he said, and he slipped off his horse, giving the barded steed a stroke on the neck. The horse was regaled in a similarly colored mail coat as Seussal, although nowadays it hung a bit oddly on the horse, what with his skeletal nature. Karvar snorted and entered the cave, and Seussal followed.
Only for the both of them to stop, greeted by a curious sight. Mummified by the cold, the ancient corpse of a warrior sat with its back against the wall. His chest was torn open, armor splintered, suggesting that something mighty had slain him.
Out of habit, he knelt by this warrior, and was relieved to see that his soul had moved on. He took the old sword that laid by him and placed it on his lap, and nearly jumped when the old corpse grabbed his wrist, and started whispering.
The words of a dead man, to many, might seem untrustworthy. But to Seussal, those whispers he'd heard from an abandoned corpse in a snowy cave rang as the truth. Someone had rested here who had the powers of death about them, someone among the living.
A Necromancer.
He spent the rest of the night in quiet contemplation, and in the morning he set out from the cave with Karvar and took to the winds, turning back towards the cold north. This poor fool was going into HIS territory...
And so, riding upon a howling, snow-flurried wind, he was off.
