-Thin? I got thin? Where are my muscles? My waste looks like a ring!
-At least your hair match your eyes now….
My implacable elvish friend added probably in an attempt to consolidate me.
-At least my armour still fits!
Truth is I could not get angry at her. After all she resurrected me before that madman managed to turn me into an undead monster. Given the situation loosing some muscle is not that bad. My hair are indeed much longer and ashy purple in colour, my face is much paler almost white (does not even look alive to me), my skin and my voice are much too soft. I look more like a ghost than a warrior! More than anything else my scares are gone! The proof of my hard work my sacrifice my pain! All gone.
-Believe it or not you look… prettier.
I swear to Nadir herself !! I would strike her unconscious! Even if I spend my whole life outside the temple I will never understand those people! On the other hand we still have to move the corpse of a grown man in full armor through a cemetery with 4 undead wondering around, adding a second body would not be too smart of a think to do. In my sadness I could only answer:
-You might be right. Yet when was I ever interested in beauty? This body was the last proof of my heritage. Now I don't even exist.
We stayed silent for the rest of the way to old Fiona's house. It is time for the 3 rs to relax, resurect and re-group.