As I sat by the fire in the Braemar tavern, I listened in to conversations regarding zombie on wolf violence that was taking place in Deep Ravenswood. What would make zombies lash out in such a fashion and why were they taking my hides? I’m a diplomatic sort, perhaps I could render some assistance. If not, I could at least get the hides before the zombies pinched them.

The woods had changed considerably since my last visit. Some damnable fool had built a fishing lodge on the hillside and made two grievous mistakes. First, he had rented it to sinister types without checking for proper credentials, thus the zombies. Second, there is no water in Deep Ravenswood, so clearly, this was a zombie den of evil.

The fishing lodge overlooked a fenced in area for pigs, which unto itself is wrong. Since zombies know nothing of animal husbandry it was obvious they were up to the nefarious deed of creating a zombie pig-man army. This is could not go unanswered.

My first objective was to free the victims of this alarming experimentation. I snuck to the pen just as a new wave of zombie on wolf violence broke out. I believe the wolves were in the midst of their own rescue mission and were caught trying to knock over the house of sticks and abscond with the pigs. Zombies streamed out in droves, surrounded the snarling wolves and clumsily swung at them. What they lack in coordination, they make up for in sheer numbers and senseless violence.

I tried to work quickly, but once the zombie horde dispatched the wolf, their attention turned to me. I had been caught opening the pen and waving the pigs to safety. Unfortunately, I don’t speak the language of pigs, so getting them to understand my commands and intentions proved quite difficult.

With the heat of battle imminent, I set my position, summoned my strength, conjured my shield of crystal and brought forth immolation and the cleansing ring of fire. The zombies swarmed at me and were engulfed in flame.

Through the heat haze, I could see Mud Buddy on the fringe, delivering debilitating blows to their kidneys. But then the battle took a terrible turn. The howl of the swine echoed in the night and I realized that since they hadn’t heeded my words and escaped out of the pen as I had instructed, they were now part of the flaming horror.

This proved disastrous as the delicious smell of pork and pork products hung heavy in the air and distracted me from my cause. I was lulled into a dream state as my mind drifted to a hearty breakfast. The zombies quickly took advantage of my guard being down.

I was driven back into the pen which caught more swine in the melee. Not only was there a zombie menace, but I was enveloped by even more of that divine aroma. I was powerless against it, as thoughts of the nearest chicken coop filled my head. My mind reeled with sauce combinations and ingredients I could obtain from Owl’s Head. In my delirium, I was soon on the ground, the zombie horde about to devour me.

However, the old adage proved true. Given enough time, zombies will ignite. Mud Buddy, undeterred by such succulent fragrances, had kept the zombies roasting over the open fire and to a powdery residue did they go. Order was restored and designs for the zombie pig-man army thwarted.

I had quelled the zombie menace, but I had also caused irrevocable harm to the pigs. Even so, life is full of silver linings. On the bright side, I had saved the pigs from a terrible fate, they could no longer be used in these terrible schemes. Even better, with the zombies gone, I could use their hut as a dining hall and I never travel without knife and fork.

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Well now, what do we have here? A quaint fishing cabin on the side of a hill with no creek in sight. I sense nefarious deeds are afoot.

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I am quite suspicious of these zombies and their attempts at animal husbandry. No good will come of this.

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No, piggy, no! I told you to run the other way to safety! Away from the flame! Away!
Oh Mud Buddy, this den of evil smells delicious

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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