Seven Swords Saint is a wandering swordsman, something of a living legend even while still being mortal. For seven generations he and his ancestors walked the world from cradle to grave carrying swords and being a force for change in Creation.
He wandered a dark bog filled with fog and within short order came under attack by zombies. Being not new to fighting the living dead, Saint fought them masterfully and dispatched some of them with quickened ease.
Intending to help the traveller beset by the living dead, some people arrived on scene and helped take out the last couple of the walking dead. They quickly explained to Saint the dangers of the area and what had befallen them: Their elder, once honest and caring, had gone mad: He had abducted people into his home and turned them into walking dead, and within a few days had the village running scared. More and more people vanished until the few survivors mounted resistance and were beaten handily.
Those that survived once more retreated into the swamps, where now everlasting fog and darkness were the order of the day. They survived there, although bit by bit they were whittled down.
Saint arrived as their numbers reached a new low, their supplies finally dwindled to near-nothing and despair spread far and wide. He swore to aid the survivors and together with three others made for the village, intent on ending the curse of this village.
With him were a former outcast, now the best among them to survive. He knew the terrain better than any. Next was an apprentice to the shoemaker, adept at sewing, though unknowingly a brilliant leader of men. Last came the last remaining guard of the city, a true fighter.
They stealthily moved into the village and made way into the central compound where the elder would reside. They found him most certainly, though his hut was shrouded in a darkness utterly unnatural, the compound shining on the outside, illuminated by Corpsefires.
The old man wore a mask now, white except for streaks of sludge-like blackness that came from his eyes, like tears. His eyes were replaced by orbs of liquid darkness, and any damage done to him was transferred upon the mask. Once the mask shattered, the man awoke as if from a months-long dream. He saw the destruction and death around him and said “It was not just a dream…” before his life faded away.
The true villain behind this magnum opus of death and darkness turned out to be Seven Iron Eyes, a highly dangerous master of the undead, one of the Abyssals, one of the Death Knights.
Sworn to his oath, Saint engaged this incarnation of death even though he was well aware that he might lose this fight handily and thus also lose his life. And in this moment he exalted as a Solar of the Dawn Caste and brough his furious righteous anger upon the Death Knight.
The two fought for intense moments at speeds the eye could barely perceive until the Abyssal stepped back and bade the people farewell, though not before killing one of their number. He declared his deeds here done and simply vanished into thin air.
The zombies all ceased to exist and became corpses once more. Saint aided the villagers and their wounded best he could before he decided to move on once more, though now with greater power than ever before.