Mark left the bush that had broken his fall with grunt and pricks fixed in his skin. He began walking through the little vegetation that came before the village at a distance.
"Ouch ouch ouch…"
There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary as he took the little stroll, but just before he departed beyond the trees, the last tree which he leaned on, had something peculiar on it.
A bird was in a nest, a mother bird, and although Mark couldn't see its chicks, he could tell that it had some.
The bird was strange. Its head to its chest was without flesh and dry. Mark could see its bones and the hollow between. Its eyes were grey and lifeless, its lower body on the other hand seemed to be teeming with life.
Although feathers covered them, Mark could tell that there was flesh below, whether it was rotting or not, he couldn't tell.
His eyes were fixed on the ghastly thing as it moved like a typical bird would, turning its exposed skull, and grooming itself with its beak.
[Undead crow]
The goddess eye notified him. The black feathers and its movement were very telling of crows, but how could it move? How was it living? And what was undead?
Questions Mark wasn't sure he wanted their answers flooded his head. He then decided to leave, and he walked away heading for the village.
Although this was a room with its own trials, it didn't feel that way. The cool air blew and was soothing, and leaves rattled. It felt very much like a typical cool environment, and for a moment, he forgot that he was in a place to be tested.
His outfit was torn, his food containers, and water flask gone. He was dying of thirst, and hunger was starting to surface.
He scurried his way to the silent huts. Although there were dozens of the huts, Mark didn't see anyone from a distance as he came, it was like they were all indoors.
'Perhaps they aren't very social beings.'
They had built huts that seemed to be of human style, like that of the goblins, and that assured Mark that whatever they were, they were likely humanoids and they were intelligent.
He walked past the first two huts, looking around to spot a person. It wasn't like him to shout, but it seemed like he would have to.
"Hello." He let out, his voice raspy and dry.
There was no response, he cried again.
"Hello!"
This time, a creature sprang forward from a corner. It was, it was…
[Undead dog]
The fur of the dog was dry and caked, parts of its hind legs lacked flesh, its head had lost most of its flesh, and he could see all of its exposed parts, it wagged its tail and barked startling Mark.
He hadn't expected that from an undead dog.
"It seems so alive."
"I see you found my dog." A deep voice billowed from the corner, its owner crept forward from behind a hut.
Mark stood, tense and wary.
The creature that came forward, the undead dog's owner, was tall and undead just like their dog.
Their skull was shaped like that of a human, but it was significantly longer. They had a black cloak on that hid most of their features, save for their large rib cage and face.
[Undead]
Mark didn't need the goddess's eye to tell that this was an undead, its eerie voice, majestic gait and its unmistakable exposed bones were all telling that it was an undead of some ranking, not like the fodder ones in games for leveling up.
They went to their dog and crouched, giving it a pat.
Mark looked around again, just how didn't he notice the deadness the black huts gave, had he been delirious?
"Hello there, my name is Panilusai Exare. What business do you have here?" It questioned with its unsettling deep voice that seemed to come from the deepest parts within it.
'Hello there? Rather strange of an undead to use the word hello.' he thought then he recalled the that the master of tongues translated others language to what he was most familiar with, for all he knew, the undead might have uttered the sentence "Our abode receives thee" in whatever language it spoke.
"Mark, my name is Mark." He responded rather stiffly.
'Please don't make me shake your hand, please don't make me shake your head.' Mark prayed, and fortunately, the undead didn't bring forward its hand for a handshake.
It simply nodded lightly, acknowledging Mark's response. Shaking hands seemed to be a human thing, and Mark was glad it was at that moment.
"I repeat, what is your business here?" it asked without an expression in its fleshless face nor voice, but Mark couldn't help but feel that it was getting annoyed.
'I better get moving.'
What would the undead know about helping the living, and that is if it didn't bear malice within itself like many do in books and games.
"Emm Emm!" Mark cleared his throat.
"I was just passing by." Mark said, his nerves tingling with anxiety.
"Nonsense!" They responded like they were making an announcement.
"You are hurt, you need a new outfit, and cold we might look, but we are far from it. You'll never find a friendlier bunch than us in these parts."
"Brothers, sisters come. Let's welcome our guest."
"Huh?!"
With just that yell, doors came open and the undead came from their hiding.
"What's going on?" Mark looked about, darting his eyes here and there in confusion.
"Mark!"