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Lazarus jogged down the deserted street and occasionally peered back at the pursuing guardsman. He sidestepped down an alleyway and slowed his gait to allow the guard a chance to catch up. He paused and stood silent as the clip-clop of boots echoed into the alley.

“Halt there!” he cried, huffing and puffing after the long pursuit. Lazarus raised an eyebrow, wondering how he could possibly halt any more than he already was. He did not move. A cur bayed in the distance and the jittery guard jerked his head to the side at the sound.

As Lazarus whipped around, his cloak flared out revealing two pistols strapped to his sides. With a quick, practiced motion he grasped the cold iron and drew the weapons. They seemed to blur as the barrels aimed toward the guard. A sword clattered to the ground and the guard took a single step backwards.

Two shots rang out as one and the guard slumped against a wall holding his stomach. He looked at his hands shocked to see a lack of blood pouring from the wound. He realized he could not move although he desparately desired to. Lazarus slowly walked toward his victim holstering the wraithlock pistols once again. As the pair stared at each other, Lazarus with an expressionless face and the guard in sheer horror, Lazarus simply walked into the guard losing his corporeal form and disappearing from sight.

The guard straightened and craned his neck as if working out a kink for the very first time. He stooped to retrieve his fallen sword and sheathed the weapon. After a quick glance into the empty street he stepped out and began the trek back to his post.

——-

The warjack foundry was in full operation, steam and hammers filling the air.

“Joran! Where did you make off to? The shifts are about to change.” A guard entered the double doors of the factory and looked to the one calling his name.

“I was chasing that ruffian, although he disappeared. Probably nothing but a curious beggar.” Joran looked around the expansive workshop with dull eyes. He was drawn to a large construct near the back and as he looked upon it, the machine’s eyes lit up with a bright light. Joran grew weak for a moment and found himself mesmerized at the living warjack that gazed upon him. After a few moments, the fires burned down and the mechanics attending to the Avatar continued their work.

(click the image below for a 360)

Avatar of Menoth

Avatar of Menoth

——-

A pair of bony fingers pried open the envelope and withdrew the parchment within . . .

To the Great Liaison of the Dragon:

Construction of the warjack known as the Avatar has been completed and testing of its capabilities in battle have begun. The fire inside this warmachine is more than mere combustion. It reeks of Menoth’s hand and even its eyes burn into those caught in its contemptable gaze. I assure you this machine will see as much battle as it can handle.

Additionally, a Devout class warjack has been completed in this factory. It seems somewhat nimble on the test fields and is quite adept and guarding those nearby. I have seen it paired with a paladin (of some fame, apparently) as the two cleaved through a mock battlefield.  We must keep careful tabs on these beasts.

In death,
Lazarus Fugue