FellChaser

After years of desperate turmoil, you fail to create the cure to bring your loved one back from her deep slumbering unconsciousness. In overwhelming fatigue, you found your feet giving out, vision going dark.  As Death leaned in closer, she smelled of roses and rot. A putrid melody. Unready to yield, you dash to escape Death stealing her scythe. Ripping a hole into space, not turning back for a se…