I decided to build beachfront property – this was just after the start of the most recent build, so not everyone was aware of the horrors of fish just yet.
And as I settled in for the first winter, the zombie whales came in the night. They don’t sleep. They don’t breathe; they don’t even need water; they simply pull themselves up the beach on rotting stumps of fins. They hunger for dwarven flesh.
There was one brave holdout still barely clinging to life in the spring. He had enough time to shout a warning before he expired- but it was too late for that wave of settlers, who were devoured to the last kitten.
Image by Dan Filimon.
Written by UnseenLibrarian
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