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The Resurrection of Sammuel

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Lascivious sat upon the back of Sam patting his bony neck as they made their way through the Bulkwark from the rotting plaguelands. Inside her saddle bag she could hear the murmuring of the Grim speaking. But one was most incessant above all others. Even though she could not understand his words, she knew the accent belonged to the only troll to bother her so insistently on this hated communicator. With a sigh she pulled out her stone.

“What is it, Reg?”

“How fast can you get to da Un’ercity?” he asked.

“Fairly quickly, but I have some other things to do right now.”

“Oh. Den I guess we just let yer Bruddah go.”

Lascivious jerked Sam’s reigns and pulled him to a sudden stop. She didn’t notice the look of irritation he flashed at her.

“What?” she whispered hoarsely.

“Your bruddah, Sammuel. We catch him poking’ around’ da sewers.”

“I’ll be there shortly.”

She kicked Sam’s flanks and with another annoyed glance at his rider he sped toward the Undercity. The closer she came to the city the more her undead heart fluttered. She uncounted Sam and made her way nervously to the elevator. Her movements had become those of a mindless zombie. By the time she reached the Apothecary her feet felt like leaden weights. She felt like the weight of her armor would crush her to the ground.

Then she saw him. Despite the bruises on his face, he stood tall and wide. His hair was black and long. The thick dark hair of his beard was neatly trimmed and starting to show some premature gray. She noted with some satisfaction the Grim around him had their share of bruises as well.

She approached slowly. She had longed for this moment and now that is was here… for the first time in a long time she felt fear. How would he react when he saw her? Was this all just a dream?

“Sammuel,” she whispered.

His eyes widened a bit when he saw her and recognition settled in. He seemed hesitant. As if he was glad to see her and repulsed at the same time. There was a great sadness in his eyes. She reached out and gently put her hand on his shoulder. He did not flinch. She could feel the unyielding flesh under her hand. Unable to contain herself any longer, she wrapped her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. Gods, he had grown so tall during her absence. After a moment she felt Sammuel’s arms move hesitantly up and down. Then she felt his arms wrap around her.

“Are you alright Harmony?”

Harmony looked up and Sammuel wiped the tears away from her eyes. He bent down and kissed the bruise forming on her forehead. His face was youthful and his strong jaw was shaved close. Oh how she loved him! She wiped her nose on her sleeve and nodded.

“Who did it?” he asked.

“It was Jerrod.”

He nodded and kissed her forehead again. Letting go of her, he made his way to the town well where several village boys had gathered. All but two moved away when they saw him coming.

“What do you want, runt?” asked the larger one, a full head taller than Sammuel. The boy next to him laughed.

“I want to know if you’ve run out of boys to bully since you have now taken to throwing stones at little girls, Jerrod.”

Jerrod let out laugh then suddenly swung a fist toward Sam’s head. He ducked easily and struck his foot out toward the other boy who had begun moving in on him. Sam’s foot hit him firmly in his chest and he toppled over the edge of the well, tangle in the ropes and hanging helplessly from the edge. Jerrod tried to press his advantage but a punch to the groin stopped him cold. Another kick to the knee felled the big youth.

Sam pushed him over onto his back. “Touch my sister again and I’ll make sure you can’t use that hand again.”

"Thank you, Sam. You know you are going to get into trouble for this."

"He's had it coming for a while." Sammuel put his arm around her and smiled. "Besides, I'm your big brother. I am suppose to protect you. Come on, let's go home. I think I owe you a tea party.

Lascivious felt his arms drop from her as he knelt on the ground before her. He let out a tired sigh and his eyes began to moisten as he bent his head. Lascivious ran her hand through his hair and wiped the wetness from his eyes. She bent down and kissed his forehead.

“Do not despair, my love,” she whispered to him. “I know you are tired. But you are safe now. No one will hurt you here.” She lifted his head up and looked into his eyes as she slid her blade from its sheath. “It is time, Sammuel.”

With a quick movement she slashed the blade across his throat and the blood sprayed her armor. His eyes became wide in surprise and fear and she knelt down hugging him close to her as his life spilled from him.

“Shhhh… it will be over soon, love. Soon you will be free. Free from the wretched Blades who imprisoned you. Free from Alliance dogs who tried to keep me from you. Free from lies and betrayal. I will protect you as you did me. I am your big sister now my love.”

Lascivious sat there holding him for several minutes after he stopped breathing. Finally, she heard the clearing of a throat.

“Sorry, Lasc,” said Hektar, the big shaman. “But what now?” Reluctantly she released Sammuel and lay him back on the floor. She stroked his hair lovingly.

“What now?” She stood and lifted Sammuel into her arms. “Now we take him to the Dark Lady. Sammuel is a mighty warrior. She will fulfill her promise to me as I have mine to her. Thank you friends.”

She nodded to the Grim present and turned away from the Apothecary carrying her brother to his first meeting with his new queen.

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