Sertha

Gravediggers

The Scent of Rot and Crime Buried Under That Tantalizing Sulphuric Stench

“I know how they hide their atrocities- all seven feet under. How every time research into the dark and arcane goes awry we never hear of it- hell. Any research. Anything at all that Arkhan wants gone. I worry the gravedigger I escaped is hunting me, I hear that rattle in mine nightmare. Oh lords.”

Content Warnings:

Mentions of Rape/Necrophilia/Heavy drug use


The Gravedigger is a horrifying force employed and exploited by Arkhan. They have seen mass use in recent years under Highbinder Verschwörer reign. Their purpose is simple. Bury any warcrime, any unethical experiment gone wrong, any atrocity that Arkhan has committed. They are seen as permanent assets, should a gravedigger wish to work no longer. They are promptly, taken care of. Either by their fellow more fargone gravediggers or a little while later by accident or tragedy.

The permanent asset rank of the gravedigger is as well in part to Arkhan’s exploitation of hard drugs. Slowly robbing the gravedigger of their faculties and will by showering them with refined sulphur. A substance that drives dragomii into psychosis with ease, one that promotes violence like no other. Soon enough any new gravedigger will be under the spell of Arkhan and reliant upon its master mind and body. And as the years pass, more and more used syringes will pile up on their backs. In their sulphur addled state they rarely remember to remove such devices. Leading to a signature death rattle as they move, all the empty needles clattering together. A symphony that paired with laboured breathing and quiet wheezing begets death.

Given the hard drug use and frequent exposure to all kinds of debauchery; paired with ongoing psychosis and drug induced paranoia and violence. Gravediggers quickly lose all morals and ethnics. Frequently observed laying with corpses of those they have killed or found dead. Or mutilating them with their sharpened shovels beyond any recognition. After all, its easier to bury a minced up body than a full one. And the dead cannot object. Work cites quickly become cesspools and foremen are given ample therapy when managing their depraved charges.

In some cases, gravediggers may be sent out to decommission settlements. And this oft leads to slaughter and rape like no other. It is almost never that someone survives an encounter with a gravedigger. And when they do, its prudent they flee the region. Randomly or on commision for they are trigger happy and bloodlusted freaks.


A Letter to Scarred Fang

Era to follow; The Bells of Nine chime Upon The Spires Lasting Climb
To moniker, Scarred Fang
Written, Harbor the Time of Sentmar, Out Upon Death, Jar Clutched Still

That day is foggy to me. Ironic given the climate but I digress. We did exactly what Arkhan wanted, we forged their signatures. We refitted our mine. We lost so many to the dangers of deep mining operation, my… daughter among the lost. We spent years doing every single fucking task. And when we finished our work do you know how we were rewarded? With a rattle of death thats how.
Three scores of gravediggers, three scores. They came at midday and caught us all by surprise. I was talking with my superior about the relaxed quota now that our job was done.

“Alas its done, with much sorrow to you and other. But I hope there is solace you can find?”

“Some, but not much.”

I gave her a weak smile y’know? She had always been kind and did her best with the outdated equipment they gave us. And ohhhh I should have known?! Why if they cared! Why if they wanted to see us grow and progress would they have delivered equipment outdated by two eras? They never were going to let us live but I did. And I don’t know how. I heard the footfalls and the rasp of metal against stone before anything else. Then the head of my superior rolled. Her body tensing before it was cut down all the same.

The bastard lunged and bit me, thats how I lost this part of my face. Lost a toe kicking away that things shovel. Sharper than they look. It clawed and hit me with strength like no other and I started to hear screaming and howling. The fiend got me on front, pinned me down and had me. Not the best experience.

How the hell I got up and got out is beyond my recollection. But what I can tell you Scarred Fang is she was looking for something deep below. We were site five, at minimum that makes four others. We gave her loads of shiverpike among platinum, and blackened scraps. Our work really only concluded once we hit liquid down there, wasn’t water wasn’t oil. Nay sulfur or anything ive ever seen. The overseer sent by Arkhan tried to hide his glee, and suddenly. A recarnice later, ahead of schedule we were done.

I hope this brief recount aids in your endeavors. I am safe within Kajir for now, below with this letter comes a vial of that liquid. The scholars here don’t know what it is, but this is Kajir. No offense to my new home but it is not the land of academia like my bittersweet Arkhan.

May your hunts be few, and thy prey many.
Kllef’magen


'Noted.'