No fear...

Both Amdir and Naurfast were rather unsettled by the vision of the necromancer. Naurfast shrank back a bit from the vision, and it took a moment of Amdir soothing her to calm her down. Amdir too was afraid, she would be stupid not to be. But she tried her best not to show it to these strangers.

Magic was one thing Amdir feared because she didn’t understand it, and because she respected its innate power. She had seen what the tribal Shamans could do. Amdir was no shaman, even though she had some ice magic within her, she was a warrior. Clearly what was ahead was not her cause, not her mission. A necromancer was far more than she had bargained for. But Amdir was a Death Rider. And Death Riders did not run away, especially in front of strangers. To do so would be dishonorable and cowardly, the worst sins a Death Rider could invite upon themselves.

“I am a Death Rider,” Amdir finally said to Majvoc. “I do not fear my name sake. To die in honorable combat is a noble way to the afterlife.”

Amdir paused and looked at the black spire. Such noble words from an outcast, Amdir thought to herself. She had nothing, stood for nothing, and protected nothing. Amdir knew was still clutching to the ideals of her tribe as if they were a lifeline to keep her from drowning. Perhaps these people and their quest had been chosen for her? For an honorable death? Amdir did not know, but she knew her way was forward.

“I will accompany you and your party, Amdir said quietly. “I suspect you will need my help in this quest of yours.”

Naurfast stood silently awaiting her mistress’ commands. Her ears pricked up and she sniffed the cold air. The wolf was also afraid. She could smell the death coming from beyond the spire, and did not want to go. But the bonds of command, loyalty and companionship were too strong. Naurfast would stay by Amdir’s side until death took them both.