Editing Against the Lazer Wolves!:Tarot

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Necro-lord Midniticon has hordes of slaves under his power. But not all are living; most of them are zombified thralls, resuming in death the labor forced upon them in life, restrained by cold, heavy, solid voidchains.
 
Necro-lord Midniticon has hordes of slaves under his power. But not all are living; most of them are zombified thralls, resuming in death the labor forced upon them in life, restrained by cold, heavy, solid voidchains.
 
 
None of his zombies retained their previous intelligence or personality, and Tarot was no exception. Until her chains cracked and a long-forgotten flash illuminated the decayed emptiness of her mind: her name is Tarot, she's a peasant, and she has a husband and children, and she loves them more than anything else in the world!
 
None of his zombies retained their previous intelligence or personality, and Tarot was no exception. Until her chains cracked and a long-forgotten flash illuminated the decayed emptiness of her mind: her name is Tarot, she's a peasant, and she has a husband and children, and she loves them more than anything else in the world!
 
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Escaping the Necro-lord's tyrannical grasp was no small feat, but using her chains chains as weapons, Tarot nonetheless managed.
Escaping the Necro-lord's tyrannical grasp was no small feat, but using her own chains as weapons, Tarot nonetheless managed.
 
 
At first, she was a lone wanderer, forced to hide her dead flesh under long sleeves, decayed face behind a mask, and dreadful smell behind flowers. Tales of a compassionate wanderer, enacting good deeds and attempting to solve conflicts pacifically, were born in her trails, sometimes with the hushed rumors that this same wanderer would unearth corpses whenever she thought nobody was looking to devour them, or that perfectly cattle would disappear leaving behind nothing but bloodied, severed ropes behind.
 
At first, she was a lone wanderer, forced to hide her dead flesh under long sleeves, decayed face behind a mask, and dreadful smell behind flowers. Tales of a compassionate wanderer, enacting good deeds and attempting to solve conflicts pacifically, were born in her trails, sometimes with the hushed rumors that this same wanderer would unearth corpses whenever she thought nobody was looking to devour them, or that perfectly cattle would disappear leaving behind nothing but bloodied, severed ropes behind.
 
 
The worst, though, was the loneliness, and she couldn't get attached to the locals' own children too much. They already have their own parents.
 
The worst, though, was the loneliness, and she couldn't get attached to the locals' own children too much. They already have their own parents.
 
That one problem, at last, is being taken care of.
 
That one problem, at last, is being taken care of.
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* Permission to remember their love even if all else is forgotten; to intuit a direction to journey to even without hints.
 
* Permission to remember their love even if all else is forgotten; to intuit a direction to journey to even without hints.
  
'''Shared:''' I Need Somebody To Be All Motherly Towards Even If They're Twice As Tall As I Am (Rune)
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'''Shared:''' WIP (Rune)
* WIP
 
  
 
=Approaches=
 
=Approaches=

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