From the journal of Kayapo the Shaman
Around the New Year, 1430
I joined a group of adepts hired by some townsfolk concerned about rumors of undead wandering to the west; Eruriel the elven cavalier and her horse Bellerophon, a pair of human illusionists Named Caesar and Garren, and a t’skrang Swordmaster Named Kresh'Ktor. We had only vague descriptions of the area where those outside the cycle of life could be found, so we headed in that general direction to see what we could find.
For quite a while, all was quiet as we looked for any signs of the undead. We were walking along a meandering game trail in an otherwise tranquil area when we were ambushed by a large pack of wolves. While we were fighting them off, a pair of powerful alphas joined the fight. I was filled with great sorry at the waste of the pack’s attack on a group of well armed adepts, and can only speculate that the wolves normal prey had been driven away by the undead we were looking for. We had to slay several of the wolves before the remains of the pack fled to seek less dangerous prey.
After the fight, I tended to both my fallen brothers-in-fur as well as to the wounds the wolves teeth and claws had done to my companions. We told great tales of heroism and bravery under the stars that night after the fight, a true Hero’s Feast, welcoming the ancestor spirits, the spirits of the forest, and the spirits of the Great Beast Lords to join us in our song of celebration of having survived the ferocity of the wolf hunt.
I shared the tale of the Playful Ferret Spirit of the Laij, who had appeared to me during a vision quest deep in the jungle and taught me to summon his brethren. I imbued my companions with the Ferret Spirits who answered my call, and we danced around the fire, celebrating that we LIVED. It was a true celebration of LIFE for the living.
Later, we followed the signs of disturbance in the forest to a large clearing with a cluster of tall stones near the center. On the far side, four poor souls had been nailed to trees, yet still lived, moving pitifully. When we approached to render aid, we were horrified that the four were not long dead, but showing terrible wounds with the entrails streaming to the ground as they writhed in undeath.
We surrounded one of the four to end it’s misery. After helping it to be at peace in its second death, waves of undead began pouring out of a nearby cave. The fight was quite difficult, as the waves of undead kept coming, and coming. I called upon the Ferrets and the Leopards, the Fishing Cats and the Boars, and we eventually prevailed. Garren had climbed the circle of stones and I did my best to knock back the undead that climbed to try to feast upon him. Spells flew, while Eruriel and Kresh’Ktor took point in the fight. Ceaser fell to a terrible strike by one of the undead and I will never forget the look on his face as he collapsed, the undead chewing its way through his intestines and other organs. We dispatched the creature, and then I drew on my emergency healing supplies. We were fortunately able to bring Ceaser back before his spirit was lost, but I’m afraid that even with all my skills as a healer he will bear the scars of the creature’s claws and teeth on his belly for the rest of his days in this world. Poor Kresh’Ktor was almost done in, but managed to defeat the last of those outside the cycle of life with one final slash before collapsing in exhaustion.
After we caught our breath, we explored the cave and found that a group of humans had been attempting a magical ritual of unknown origin, one apparently intended to banish death. The ritual appeared like it might work on its face, but a closer look showed that it seemed to have been deliberately designed to backfire on those performing it, transforming them into undead and driving them mad from the wounds they received while being nailed to the living trees of the forest as part of the process. We can only assume the poor fools had their reasons for attempting such a thing, tho why they would have trusted a ritual so flawed is beyond me. My only thought is that a horror may have been involved, one who took great delight in the extra “spice” of knowing that its prey would be the cause of their own deaths, with the kick of knowing the foolish could have prevented their fate if they were not so vulnerable and ignorant.
We alerted the villagers upon our return about what had happened, in the hopes that next time the horror will find its prey more wary. I am just grateful for the healing supplies we packed, and that the healing supplies were able to make such a difference for Ceasar.