Upon waking in a shallow grave, Suffolk looked around and began absorbing his new surroundings. Dank, musty, wet, cold… Suffolk sighed. “I guess this is it, huh,” he said to no one in particular.
Just as he was dusting himself off, he noticed a bony, flesh-eaten hand waving in the air. “Oh jesus, what now?” he wondered. He scooted over to the owner of the grotesque hand. “What’s the matter?” he asked.
“My name is Undertaker Mordo,” said the putrid-smelling corpse. “Welcome to Deathknell! I have an urgent task down in The Shadow Grave,” said Mordo.
Suffolk sighed again. He looked up at Darnell and his jaw dropped a little more than normal. “That’s a big bastard!” he smirked to himself; “I wonder who the hell he was in his life.”
Darnell smiled amiably to Suffolk and asked, “Are you ready? I know the way.”
Suffolk scooted behind Darnell, following him to the entrance of The Shadow Grave. For all that’s happened to him today, he really shouldn’t have felt the heebie-jeebies creep across what’s left of his skin. But he did. He shook his head quietly and descended down the crypt’s stairs.
When they reached the last room of the crypt, Darnell began looking in every crevice and on every shelf for the Undertaker’s supplies.
Suffolk looked around for half a second before spotting a small table over in the far corner of the room. He glanced at Darnell, who was still examining an empty shelf. Suffolk sighed.
“They’re over here, Darnell,” he said unimpressed.
“Oh! Right! Great job, Suffolk!” said Darnell emphatically. They ascended the crypt’s stairs and headed straight for Undertaker Mordo. Suffolk hands over the embalming fluid and thread.
“Well, I guess our task here is done,” said Darnell. “I’ll be on my way to Tirisfal Glades. See you soon, Suffolk!”
Suffolk watched that big bastard head off toward the huge gate and just shook his head, smirking to himself.