Blacktear Mourning Knight #4

The Blacktear Mourning Knights form the shattered backbone of the funeral march, once-honored warriors now reduced to living vessels of grief and corruption. Their armor hangs unevenly from swollen bodies, plates bolted together from scavenged remnants and darkened by rust and constant weeping. Beneath cracked helms stare eyes that never dry, leaking cold black blood as an unending confession of loss. Their flesh bears unmistakable swine-like traits — thickened jaws, split snouts, coarse bristles forcing through diseased skin — the residue of gluttonous blessings that turned rancid when their promised paradise was torn away. These knights were shaped by a power that offered transcendence through decay and dominion through pestilence. When that power was destroyed, they were left behind, neither redeemed nor released. The revelation forced upon their minds did not fade; it hollowed them, leaving memory without meaning. Cast out and denied purpose, they eventually bent the knee to the An