It doesn't take you too long to find the first of the strange trail-signs when you look for them. Here a length of some strange fiber, there a tree hacked off near the base and no log to be seen. There's also the occasional chunk of half-rotted, putrefying skin stuck to thorns- Like it had been ripped straight from a decayed, rotten corpse.
Tracking these signs, well, that's a bit harder. They seem... Chaotic. Jumbled. The trail turns back on itself, loops around, and even seems to disappear outright for some length of time. Eventually you manage to trace it to a large cave entrance, near to a series of cliffs and waterfalls where the river pools and spills over a natural basin.
There is a vile stench emmiting from the cave, and a semi-regular beat of rock against rock. After a moment, you steel yourself and enter.
It is dark, at first, but after a moment your eyes adjust. Glowing bugs wriggle across the walls between crags and moss, illuminating the tunnel before you. One foot after another, you trail your way into the depths of the earth.
The stench grows over time, until you turn around a corner and come face to face with a decayed and shambling corpse. It holds a large club with a strange, crescent-moon like head- And it's within ten paces of you. Fortunately, it doesn't attack. Actually, it doesn't do much but generally stand around and look at you stupidly before it turns back to the wall and begin chipping away at it with it's strange club. You walk past it warily, making sure to have an arrow drawn and at least five paces between the you and it at all times- But it's keeps to it's task, rather then attacking you or otherwise bothering you in any way.
You suppose you should probably feel grateful for that, but you're still kind of weirded out by the fact that a rotting old corpse was moving under it's own power. You'd always kind of ignored the shaman's tales of spirits, having more important things to do- But right now, you kind of wish that you'd listened closer. Maybe then you'd have some idea what was going on.
There are two more of the shambling not-dead, as you move further down. You consider just shooting one of them and bringing the head back, but something stops you- You're not sure what. It probably wouldn't be a good trophy anyway- There's no honor in killing something that was already dead. Could you even kill something already dead?
Eventually, you come to a great chamber in the depths. Half a dozen Not-Dead chip nooks in the walls, and a small construction in the center muffles annoyed mumblings and mutterings. Curious, you move in closer.
"...kick ME out, eh? 'Unnatural', my arse- No sense in letting able bodies go to waste just because they happen to be dead. Well, I'll show them all! Build my own damned kingdom, let people come to me-" It's at this point that the speaker steps out of the hut and sees you. A skinny and malnourished young man with long, greasy hair that looks like he hadn't had a decent meal or bathed in weeks. You'd probably wrinkle your nose, but the stench isn't that much worse then the Not-Dead were.
The tableu holds for a moment, before the filthy young man breaks it. "You're not one of mine. Um. I suppose that makes you one of the local savages then, doesn't it? Oh dear, I'd thought I went far enough into the wilds that there wouldn't be anyone nearby."
[] What do/say?
