I am a zombie—a thinking zombie.
But my life as a walking dead turned into pure decay. I turned out to be so helpless that I couldn’t tear off prey stronger than me and have a good meal, no matter how hard I tried. The hunger got so bad that even my little brain had trouble working!
Sure, I died once, but thoughts about the approaching end plunged me into depression and gloom—even in the skin of a walking dead.
So what remains for a zombie who can’t satisfy his hunger?
But one day some necromancer summoned me into his world and started giving me incomprehensible orders—then I struck with all my might and ate him. The meat was old and stale, but who cares about the taste of food when you’re starving? By eating the brain of the pitiful summoner, I learned the universal language of the continent, the fundamentals of magic, and how to summon undead…
Well, let’s see how our Eastern brethren write “popadanku” ;)
To be continued…