"Look, lad! You see the streak of glowing green off the larboard bow? Them's the bright waters!"
While the lad peered intently at the eerie glow, the old salt continued. "Entire ships have been lost to the Bright, lad, for once you let it surround you, you'll never touch land again!"
By: Wulfhere |
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a tribe of humans
Culture:
Drumming circles daily around an arena for their bravest brutes to slaughter their accepted foe, the zombie.
feasts of overcooked zombie flesh (to kill all of the zombie virus present).
wooden fortress that make this tribe in the far future look several millennium behind in technology.
instead of becoming a troublesome and unnatural foe that they seek to cure, this tribe has accepted that Zombies will continue to roam their land and, if the undead were to perish (be cured), this tribe would suffer as well.