Kindled Steel part based novel following the affairs of Fellowship (and perhaps others) in a dying earth.

Kindled Steel
Part I

Southward lies the lands of black, forgotten and lost. North stands tall the horde of flesh, bloodied and crazed. East creeps the trees, tall and bare. West lies the rangers silent and scarce.
The moon crept to the peak of the sky, its mouth open once more. Fellowship walked alone, as always. His hood raised above his steel head, his kindle lay at his side, its handles steel was stripped bare from use. He was going east, for a reason he did not know. He never had a reason he only did. He once had a reason, he sometimes remembered but other times it left him, for days at a time even months. He was walking for days, he had not a drop of water. He never needed water he had no tongue to taste it with anyways. The forest was entering his view. It was a foggy night, not uncommon and the trees were just emerging from the thick mist. The tree was a large husk of what it once was, perhaps 400 years ago it was a giant perhaps 20x the size it is now, but the tree was no more than 20 ft tall now. Time does that to things, changes them. Fellowship clanked his steel jaws together and rattled a raspy laugh, he hasn't changed though. He made his mark in the tree with his finger, spelling the figures “P.S.” for how often he forgets things he always seemed to remember what “P.S.” meant; “Purge Start.”

The fog grew thicker, his twisted fingers reached for his kindle and unsheathed the flame. A pillar of fire drew from a handle when he held it in front of him, its heat threatening the dead trees around him, he did not flinch but the fog seemed to hate it and it drew away. Huddled around countless trees was masses of what would appear as stumps, but with the fire fellowship knew they were not. Like a unison the stumps stood and turned to fellowship and his flame. Their eyes gleamed and glistened over with slime, others lacked eyes altogether. A sense of sadness draped Fellowship, he knew he would have to purge his old masters soon. The Weepers drew out from their huddle and began to approach him some would moan and others would bark with exhaust. Fellowship was careful, he moved in a wide circle around the field. He was surrounded but he had no worries. The first Weeper lashed out with a jolt at him, it's rotten teeth clashing against his steel arm, shattering the teeth to a hundred tiny fragments. He turned and swung at the Weepers neck; his kindle burning instantly through it. It's twisted human corpse lay writhing on the ground, the others were enraged. a dozen flung themselves towards him, his kindle moved like silk in the wind, leaving a dozen bodies at his feet. Wave after wave the weepers came at him, and corpse after corpse they fell. Some seemed to ignore the conflict and swayed back and forth through the forest like in a deep unrelenting sleep. Fellowship finished up the last of the weepers that were engaged in the quarrel, and by the time he was done the sun was beginning to rise.  He purged a portion of the dead forest from the weepers but he knew there was more to come. How much more… He looked up at the large red sun in question, then turned his head back to the cracked ground as if in answer.

A very short part I. If it is taken kindly I will make a longer Part II.