In a small tavern located in some small town with nothing significant about it. People gathered together in order to escape the cold and biting winter that had come around to find a temporary comfort in companionship and shared stories.

“What do you all make about this talk of angel?” The lady running the tavern asked while cleaning out an old glass.

“Bullshit,” An old man grumbled in response.

“They must really think we’re gullible to believe that lie. I mean, an angel?”

“I believe, my cousin works for one of the trading companies that go to and from the capital. He says that there really is an angel who can heal any and all afflictions. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor, as long as you aren’t an evil soul she’ll help. He told me that he had seen her at the temple for a moment.”

“And?”

Everyone seemed to be interested in the conclusion. They all went silent in order to listen closely to what he had to say.

“He told me she has six huge white wings that glow. A perfect face, but not the type you lust, the type that’s so pure you want it to be the last thing you see before you die. She’s tall, taller than most men in fact. He also said, and this a rumor he heard, she’s kind but also strict. Those who all participated in the coup were all judged and the ones who were found guilty all suffered eternal damnation.”

“Bullshit,” Said the old man who seemed the most skeptical.

He was the only one who seemed failed to believe it since most people kept quiet with contemplative expressions.

“I bet there are a lot of people moving to the capital, your cousin say anything about that?” Someone asked with hopeful intentions.

“He told me the temple takes care of visitors for a few days but people are encouraged to return to their homes after a visit. There’s a rumor that the angel plans to visit each and every city in our Kingdom.”

“Bullshit,” An old man crowed.

“If any one of you is planning to visit you should know that entry to the Kingdom is free. The temple even sends out carriages to collect people occasionally. In their eyes, letting more people know about the angel is the best thing.”

Just as the discussion was about to continue, the door to the tavern swung open and a cold wind blew.

“Shut the door,” Someone shouted.

The tavern door slammed shut and everyone turned to look at the new arrival. It was a figure wearing a worn out burlap cloak with faint reddish stains. It was likely a woman based on the size of the figure but no one could really tell.

The cloaked figure approached the counter and whispered, “Milk.”

The barmaid running the tavern nodded before filling up a glass and putting it in front of the cloaked stranger.

The tavern was silent for a while and then another man spoke up. “Did any of you hear about the Dead Woods?”

“You mean the Black Forest?” Someone said attempting to correct him.

“No, I mean the Dead Woods. It’s a place filled with an endless white fog and dead willow trees. All manner of spirits and phantoms can be seen inside. I even heard that a town close to it went missing.”

“Bull. Shit.” The old man who didn’t appear to believe any rumors made his opinion known.

“No I heard something like that before but I thought it was an old ghost story. Someone told me that there was a lady who could be seen inside of the fog…” The woman who started speaking trailed off as she faced the counter. She spotted something that caused her concern.

The figure dressed in the worn out burlap cloak wasn’t wearing any shoes which allowed their pale feet to be seen. The strangest part was that the figure’s skin was literally as pale as snow. It would be reasonable to say that there was not a single working vein that could be seen under her skin.

Slowly, tavern goers began to focus on the stranger and they all discovered the strange feature of the cloaked individual.

“Hey, stranger,” A brave man called out. “Could you take down off your cloak?”

The Cloaked figure didn’t move and the glass of milk they asked for wasn’t even touched.

“You hear me? I said take off that damn cloak!” He repeated with growing hostility.

“Fine,” The stranger whispered as two stark white hands emerged from under the burlap cloak and gripped the hood. As soon as she pulled her hood down gasps of disbelief. She had long pale blue hair that glistened with a fluorescent glow, corpse-like white skin, and empty white eyes with no pupils or irises. There was also a black orb with a shining luster protruded from just under her collarbone.

Before anyone could say or do anything, she raised her hand and a chilling white fog rolled out of her palms, covering the entire room. Screams of terror rang out in succession for a brief moment and then the room became deathly still.

“This keeps happening.” The Will of Purgatory recalled the white fog and the only thing that was left were husks of grey colored corpses who had every ounce of vitality drained from them.

She grabbed the cup of milk and lifted it to her lips before slowly poking the surface with her tongue. Although she finally gained a physical form she couldn’t adjust to it as well as she thought, hence her odd behavior. She didn’t even drink the milk, she just let her taste buds soak within it while appreciating the flavor.

“Delicious.” An unnerving smile formed on the Will’s pale face. Her face muscles were pulled way too far back and almost exposed her entire row of teeth. She put her hands on her cheeks and relaxed her facial muscles while contemplating her next move.

“...I will need to find Ira, but it is far too dangerous to go with just this body alone.” The Will mused to herself.

As the interplanar entity that managed the plane of purgatory the will couldn’t exactly leave it unintended. So, she split consciousness into two parts with the majority being placed into the body and the other being left to perform the most basic of tasks.

If the will were to lose the vessel that the majority of her consciousness inhabited then she would find herself in trouble. It would take a few hundred years to repair the damage if something were to happen so she had to be incredibly careful.

The Will suddenly had a thought, she turned to face the corpses in the tavern. She raised her hand and the corpses slowly rose to their feet. She didn’t know her way around the Mortal Realm so she needed to find directions. To do that she needed to sift through the souls of anyone she happened to come across until a clear picture was formed. There was also the need to preserve her own safety.

The Will exited the tavern and a white fog began to spread all over the small town. People caught in it cried out in terror since it was too late or managed to flee. For the latter, the Will chose not to pursue them. Instead, she focused on adding to her numbers of undead and moved to walk comfortably in the middle of her growing protectors. She also sifted through the souls being collected and eventually found Ira’s last known whereabouts.

“The Underground City?” The Will’s eyes would’ve flashed with interest if they had the capability to.

She was way too far away to arrive quickly and the journey required for her to reach her destination would probably stretch on for months or maybe even more. The Will examined her corpse militia and found their numbers to be lacking as well as their skill. They were basic undead and wouldn’t pose a real threat to anyone with a great deal of skill. In essence, the walking corpses were only good for common people.

“I’ll need a better group,” The Will mumbled to herself. If she recalled correctly, and she did, the Tel’vians weren’t too far away from the small town that sat near the mountainous border that separated the countries.

Without thinking about any longer, the Will set her sights on the northern country in order to grow her numbers. The Tel'vane Empire, which was still recovering from the loss of their airship fleet as well as their Chancellor, would never guess that the next thing to visit them would be a plague of undead.