A new planet was discovered. Scythe-145...Early scans show that this planet has been overrun by a new species. They apeared mostly human but were much more feral and seemed to have a thirst for blood. This was because these were humans infected with a deadly, vile disease that could turn even the most of respectable man into a vile flesh hungry creature. This seemed for a fun toy to give to the plaguemasters that the immortals had in their ranks. Causing a zombie outbreak among enemy lines would at least scatter them and make them more squishy and easier to crush. The immortals would of course help the survivors left on this planet. A team was assembled within the immortals, mostly consisting of pathfinders or other classes that had no limitations on ammo and thus could easily pepper these undead creatures. There was an interesting cast of immortal soldiers chosen out for this. The newely joined puppet was eager to put his fabric body to work, Durax the new recruit was rushed into the orbit of this planet. He would be learning the ropes of becoming an immortal knights personally from Tower Charlot himself who he already met. Once in orbit of Scythe-145 a small ship was sent down, roughly the size of a pirate ship to help set up base with the necesarry supplies and carry the afforementioned soldiers onto the planet.

"Nervous, Durax? You'll be learning it by getting the test before the lesson. Dont worry though, ill watch your back out there, and the puppet will when im asleep." The puppet, who looked like he was created out of a bag and farm supplies sat across them almost lifelessly with a ragged hood over his knot eyes with a stitched on smile on his head. It seemed like an ordinary lifeless puppet until the ship landed. Then the ragged creature suddenly jumped up and looked around, pulling a needle out of his back and handling it like a blade. "Tower, is this it?" "Yes, we got a recruit here so why dont you go scouting around to see if you can find someone in need of help? Me and the recruit will go zombie hunting so our scientists can get started on weaponizing this."

"My blade is yours to command, sir," Durax replied back to Tower, standing up. He was a bit nervous before, and the ride with the creepy puppet-thing hadn't helped. Even still, he was fairly excited. It had been quite some time since he had put his sword to use, and he was eager to prove himself in combat to his new brothers-in-arms. Tower had informed him that there would be undead lurking about, which caused mixed feelings for Durax. Undead were very rarely a problem back home, so he wasn't an expert at dealing with them. When situations did arise in the area, however, Durax was likely the one called on to deal with them. 


Durax stepped off of the ship, allowing the fresh hair to hit him. His plate armor made a quiet clacking and the breeze hit him. Despite the undead presence, this was a beautiful place. Durax clutched the dagger heirloom around his neck, and braced himself for combat.


The Dragonborn turned and nodded to Tower. "Ready for combat at your command."

The big knight stepped of the ship and stretched. "eh, you can call me by my name, durax. We dont really work with refering to ranks here in the immortals...except for when you're working for Spectre. Also eh, change of plans. The puppet will go zombie hunting to get samples of the pathogen because he cant get infected. We'll go around and see if some survivors need our help with these zombols." He went ahead and made his way to one of the cities on the planet. The city was full of zombies and it didnt take long before Tower had to slay a couple. Some went for durax as well but with their decomposing muscles they were rather easy to kill. At some point Tower wasnt even using his sword anymore and just using his fists to kil the undead roaming the city. At some point though there was a disgusting noise, very similar to gurgling and after that a green projectile sped straight to Durax, fortunatly before it could hit a blue barrier spawned in front of him, blocking the projectile. "First task for your immortal training, kill the zombies around me and then use to pistol i gave you to shoot that spitting thing."

Charred zombie flesh smelled disgusting. While walking through this now-dead city with Tower, he had had to blast a few with his flaming breath. The resulting stench was not ideal, especially to the dragonborn's highly magnified sense of smell. Durax made a mental note to bring noseplugs on the next mission.

His greatsword cut through the weakened flesh of the undead. It pained him to do so, as these people had done nothing wrong in life, and each one he killed he said a silent prayer for. However, he reminded himself that his loyalties to his new family were more important and that these creatures were no longer themselves. He waded through the occasional hoard, His greatword mowing down the now-deceased creatures.

Durax didn't even see the projectile coming until Tower blocked it. The acidic-looking substance hit the shield. Tower barked the order, and Durax nodded. He had promised that he would not fail his new comrades, and as a knight, he was determined not to break his word. The dragonborn sprang into action.

The first thing he did was pull the pistol from it's holster and shoot at the spitter. He knew from experience that fighting a large group was made even more difficult when they had ranged support. The ammunitions struck clean, hitting the creature in the upper chest. The creatures torso exploded, sending a spray of more acidic goop upward, the lower half that was still left shuffled around for a few seconds, then slumped down slowly and remained still.

The Zombies began crowding around the both of them, and Durax ended up back-to-back with Tower. He leaned over and whispered, "If you can smell out of your armor, don't breath out of your nose." Without awaiting a response, he picked up his boss over his head to protect him, and then spewed a column of white-hot flame out of his mouth onto the ground below them.


As the inferno hit the ground, it spread in a circle along the ground around them, igniting the undead as if they were paper. The foul odor of burning rotten flesh wafted through the air, and Durax resisted the urge to gag. The zombies mindlessly continued to come toward them, walking headlong into flames, turning to ash.


After what seemed for forever for Durax, the zombies were no more. The dragonborn gently placed his boss down on the ground, then promptly fell over. "Was that an okay first task?" the Dragonborn muttered weakly.

He looked on how Durax took down the spitter zombie with little to no effort, obviously he did not make a mistake by recruiting him. It was interesting to tower to see a knight both use a pistol, shield and sword and his fierey breath. Then when Durax picked tower up he akwardly flailed his arms around, normally Tower's armor in addition to his large apearance made him too heavy for anyone to lift. But it was fine either way, even if the zombies could sneak in a bite they would break their teeth on his armor, it was much too thick. "....dont do that again..." With most of the shamblers dead for real they could hear grunts in the distance."Yeah it was good for your first run, but i hope you're not exhausted yet, we got ehhh....90 minutes of daylight left and you dont want to be out here at night, so let's try to find someone who has survived out here for a while Of course with Tower being a litteral white knight he went out to investigate as these grunts seemed mostly human. "keep a sword handy, they might be half infected zombies trying to draw you in, i've heard they tend to do that in movies and video games, at least Keya told me they do." He went into a darker alleyway to find a woman laying on the ground with her arm cut.

Durax had no idea what a movie or video game was, but he got up and followed anyway, keeping his dominant hand on his greatsword and the other on his holstered pistol. He had also heard of this "Keya" person, but hadn't met her as well. From the mixed way people described her, he wasn't quite sure if he wanted to meet her or try to stay away.

As they entered the alleyway, Durax immediately rushed toward the woman, still maintaining guard. He quickly examined the cut, thankfully finding it as a flesh wound. Even still, he bent down to her level and touched a clawed finger to her arm.

Durax uttered the ancient draconic word "irrizv," meaning "heal." A golden light appeared in Durax' chest, and seeped down through his arm and into his fingertip. He traced along the line of the cut, and a large amount of pus came out: she probably had had some sort of infection, perhaps even one from a zombie, that the healing had made her body expel. The wound began to slowly close up until only a scar remained.

Durax sat back and breathed a sigh. Casting magic of that caliber usually took a lot out of him. After about half a minute, he opened his eyes and looked at the lady, smiling. "Are you feeling better, madam?"

The woman freaked out upon seeing durax, this was a 100% human planet and other races were an uncommon sight, but after realizing Durex was here to help her she calmed down. "Yes....thank you, stranger...i was not bitten but i cut myself on one of the broken, im not vaccinated against tetanus, i need help." "Well, looks like we- uh oh..." he grabs a device that was in a pouch attacked to a plate on his chest and speaks into it. "orbit, what side of the planet are we on...? oh? oh shit...hey durax, we got to go! night falls faster on the lower western half of this planet. Leave her to me, we need to go home, now." He stored the device again ad taps his helmet to activate the radio VC again. "puppet! get back to HQ, night is coming and you dont want to be down here at night." "I actually do, Tower. I found a group of survivors and they have yet to trust me. So im helping their 'faction' out by carrying out a night mission. Apparently there is a still working government on a continent across the sea. There's a group of bandits who set out runners to collect the suppresants they drop and keep them for ransom. Im going out with the group to collect a few. Come find me at their base tomorow, you can track my location." "Alright, watch your ass out there, Durax, we still got to go inside. Come on, let's get back to the base." Before departing he picked up the woman and raised his shield as he slowly made his way back to the base.

The walk was a rough 30 minutes and night was falling much faster than expected so before reaching HQ and there were already noises coming from the side of the road. Eventually though when it was dark they reached HQ but sadly, before they could enter a spider type zombie jumped in front of the door, Tower raised his shield to protect the others from the opening spit attack. "why is it all these creatures spit like drunken hooligans."

The dragonborn followed, keeping his keen senses peeked. Whenever he saw an undead creature, he would either fire at it with his pistol, or he would set it on fire. Those actually happened to be two of the three solutions he had to most problems, apart from his greatsword now that he thought about it.

Durax wasn't even surprised anymore, honestly. After all they'd been through, the giant deformed spider-thing was essentially just icing on the cake. He just looked at it for a second, annoyed, then after making sure Tower and the woman were safe, he proceeded to take out his pistol, and fire an entire clip into the creatures critical mass. he summoned a a small fireball, and lit the now hole-filled, exploded remains on fire. He turned toward tower, saying "Should I drag this into HQ? It seems that it would be a good specimen."

Tower's modified vizors displayed disgust as he looked over the body of the spider zombie, it was obvious why they called this species "spiders" as the broken open jaws acted like mandibles much like spiders. Naturally the woman freaked out and Tower had to tighten his grip to keep her from running away into more zombies. As soon as the zombie was dead Tower made the gesture of almost vomiting. Then carried the wounded woman into the small HQ. "yeah, sure. Just keep your hands away from it's teeth. Im not losing my recruit on his first mission." Once inside the small base Tower put her on some sort of table. "Hey jonesy! i got a casualty here, come help her out." After the medic came over the the table he began treating her wounds while Tower went outside to install the automated defense and came in again.

The night went by and during the night loud bangs could be heard on the walls, zombies trying to break in but failing to do so. The sentry turrets were running hot as well, their gunfire could be heard all night as the mindless zombies seemingly invaded the temporary base.

After Durax dragged the carcass into HQ, he promptly went into his abode, and proceeded to throw himself onto his bed.

Durax slept like the dead. He had cast a lot of magic today, and even a healing spell. The magic had drained him. The fire-breathing hadn't helped either. His chest ached from the amount of fire he'd had to spew, and his feet stung from walking around in full armor. Compared to the day he'd had, this bed felt like Eden. It crosseed his mind that he probably should have asked to be dismissed, but he was already being grasped by the gentle arms of sleep.

He reluctantly got up the next morning, cleaned his armor, and put it on, exiting the tent after grabbing his weapons. He began to search for his boss.

Inside the small base Tower was nowhere to be seen. What couldbe found however was a pile of food wraps and beer bottles that was roughly the size of him. No big surprise he was actually under this, still asleep. After noticing a presence the pile erupted like a volcano and out of it towered Tower. He immediatly made his way to the terminal to check on the puppet's locations and picked up contact with him. "Puppet, you there?" "Im here, Tower. I lost an arm during the night mission. Night running out here is no walk in the park, let me tell you about it...But i have gotten these people to trust me. You can set up base in the parking lot below their tower, you just need to clear it out." "Alright bud, ill bring you a new dummy and mobilize the base. You let those guys know we'll be over in a jiffy. Alright Durax, no time for breakfast, we got to pack up and move. You get the girl up while i mobilize this mobile base."

After a while the whole base was on threads and ready to move out. The former base that looked like a small house was now looking like more of a truck. Tower got inside and prompted Durax and the other immortals to do the same. They then moved towards a massive appartments building through the streets riddled with undead who fortunatly couldnt do anything to this beast of a vehicle. Soon they reached the building as the puppet waited for both of them.

The puppet was still creepy to Durax, so he waited while tower spoke with him. The thing was just so... unnatural. It's vacant eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul, and it's apparent stasis between life and death left Durax to feel a danger in it.

The occasional undead would appear as Tower and the puppet were talking, but either Durax or one of the other Immortal crew would plug it full of bullets if it got too close. No huge groups showed up, the biggest that came along was about five zombies.

After the conversation was over, Durax looked to Towers, asking "Where to next, sir?"

"Today, we're meeting up with the puppet and we're setting up base below an appartment building full of survivors. From there we'll see what else we get up to here...." The lot around the tower was as good as empty as the puppet waited for the convoi to arrive. He was missing an arm but it was obvious that he didnt attach too much value to it. Tower jumped out of the vehicle carrying a regular dummy puppet not yet possesed and handed it to the puppet. "Here you go, bud. Just had that drop this morning. So you told me we could use this parking lot below the appartment building, right? So what's it like?" The puppet meanwhile got out of it's puppet body revealing his true form. He looked like a phantom but unlike any human ones. He looked more like a cloud of darkness with two glowing eyes in them who just like Tower's helmet could change shape to reflect it's mood. He didnt stay in this form for long though as he entered the new puppet body who had all the parts intact still. "This parking lot is f*cked up, it's absolutely jampacked with zombies. It houses alot of spider zombies and even a nightkraken apparently. So you should probaply go in there woud guns blazing. After that we should probaply seal it off to keep the zombies out at night."

The puppet showed them to the parking lot wich with the lights off looked kind of unsettling. The puppet drew his bow and put a large sewing needle on it as arrows while Tower drew his sowrd and the many soldiers behind them loaded up too. "Ready, Durax? this is going to be a hell of a scuffle."

Durax was okay with the scuffle, so long as he didn't have to look at the puppet any longer.

"Gun's blazing," was a bit of an understatement. The place was jammed with zombies, as if they were seeping out of the walls. Durax quickly ran out of ammunition, and pulled out his greatsword, hacking through the undead corpses. He'd occasionally send a bolt of fire toward a zombie who was giving an ally trouble, but he tried to conserve magical energy. He'd used a ton yesterday, and it had really put a strain on his body.

He was happy that he was in combat, however. Here, he didn't have to worry about reading any social cues or being dainty. In this scenario, the only thing he had to do was live through pure skill with the weapons on his back.

He continued slashing, unwavering in his determination to his allies.

Tower's long sword could clash through 3 zombies in one slash wich he did, the electrical discharge of his massive sword arced to other zombies wich took them out. The puppet was there too, picking the zombies off at range using his bow and arrow, or bow and oversized needle to be exact. Sometimes thoughinstead of firing the needle he used it to stab or throw it instead. The immortal troops themselves had no trouble, their thick armor protected them from the undead's bites and the guns killed the undead by the masses.

Suddenly though the so called nightkraken showed itself... The huge hulking zombie charged right at the little crew and was immediatly take under fire. But it seemed to have little effect as the zombie had so much fat it could stop regular ballistics. The pupper tried to aim for it's head while Tower shielded his allies. The big zombies apeared to have it's mouths on it's hands and violently swung them around.

Durax grinned at the challenge, his draconic heritage fueling him with animalistic bloodlust. He charged the hulking creature, slashing into the thick fat, evading it's wild hands. He tried to keep it handled while the others took on the remaining undead.

At one point, the zombie got in a lucky hit, sending Durax careening into a cement pillar, crashing through it. he felt as if he had sustained serious damage: a few broken ribs, at the least. Thankfully, the nightkraken was slow but it stumbled toward Durax nonetheless. It looked very VERY pissed.

The injury pained, the sounds around him pounded into his ears. His eyes contracted into reptilian slivers, his breathing became heavy, and the last thing he remembered was him letting out a monstrous, ear-splitting roar, as his dragon ancestry completely took over...

When he came back to his senses, he looked down to see a charred version of the nightkraken, cut up into tiny pieces and mashed into a pulp. Durax had no idea what he had done in that time of semiconsciousness, but his guess was that it wasn't pretty.