A/n Hi! This is my first story written so if I mess up tell me how I can fix it(ie: grammar mistakes, spelling, etc...). I hope you will enjoy it. I will take constructive critism.
Death is only the beginning.
That one phrase always echoed in the gravediggers head as he buried the corpses that washed ashore the Shadow isles. He did not know how long he had been performing his craft since his death only that it had been a very long time. But it did not matter; the only thing that did to the gravedigger was to remember who he was. Yorick Mori, last of the great line of undertakers and a mostly forgotten name.
Forgotten. The one word that Yorick hated. He could not let his family name be forgotten in death. No. He would and had taken measures to ensure it. The League was one of these measures that the gravedigger had taken to keep his family name remembered. He did not care about what he was fighting for so long as he would have his family name remembered. Yet, still he was rarely ever called to participate in the numerous matches that were performed to settle various squabbles the city states of Valoran would have on a very regular basis. Most of the Summoners didn't even remember his name. He was just "That undead gravedigger." to most of them.
What could he do about this? What would get everyone to remember that Mori family name?
While these thoughts whirled through the undertaker's mind he began to dig a new grave for another cadaver that he found on the shore. The burial provided a brief respite from these thoughts he so hated. After the deed was done the thoughts that kept eating at his mind began anew.
What should be done? Demand to be used more often in the league's matches? No. This wasn't making people remember who the Mori family was. He would have to take more extreme measures. He would have to go off the isles and make people remember. The undead undertaker then began limping down the shore until he found an old molding raft left from some poor fool who came to the isles and met his demise and boarded the creaking piece of rotting wood. He then began to use his shovel to paddle his way towards where he knew there would be people, where the Black mist crept forward every Harrowing. As he left the Shadow isles for who knew how long he had a single thought.
They will remember Yorick Mori.
A/n Well I hope you enjoyed this beginning. I will try to make them longer but at the moment they will be relatively short until I get used to writing. Please review and give me your opinions on this story. The main character will be Yorick but have other characters Points of views as he travels around Valoran to make them remember him and his family.