Full Description
The Clochardshire Shambler is a pittiable creature, technically a weak form of undead, but bound to this world not by necromancy or a sarcomancers call, but by the tattered rags it wore in life, and wears in death as well. The shambler looks like nothing more than a man shaped lump of rags and badly worn and frayed clothing. At night it can gather the strength to stand and snuffle about to find whatever it draws it's meager sustenance from. It has no face, just a dark hole in the cloth. If a viewer were to pull this concealing cloth away, they would find the dessicated and leathery flesh of a mummified corpse wrapped in the rags. The only part that is regularly exposed are the skeletal hands of the shambler that it uses to pull itself along in the day, usually looking for shelter, or grabbing new rags from beggars and homeless. It makes no sound other than the soft noise of cloth sliding across the ground.

Local Information
Found only in the city of Clochardshire, the shambler is a unique local phenomenon. No more than thirty or forty years in existence, the number of shamblers is unknown as they are quite adept at hiding during the day and going unnoticed at night. Most residents consider the things to be nuisances and the majority do not know the difference between a normal rag covered beggar and a shambler. Even those that do know do not consider them to be a menace. The only things that have a reason to fear the shamblers are other homeless and beggars as shamblers will strip them of their possessions, leaving nasty and infected slash wounds from their bony claws.

Sorcerous Lore
The Clochardshire Shamblers are a very rare form of self-spawning undead. The conditions in Clochardshire are very hard on the homeless and the beggars, as shelter is hard to come by and the climate is wet and cool. Illness of the lungs and throat are common, and many of the beggars are left to die, huddled in an alleyway strangling on their own mucus. This tedium of existence generates a large amount of negative energy, which resonates with the caverns underneath Clochardshire. This synergy causes the most destitute and desperate of beggars to rise from their deaths as Shamblers. Clad in their rags they seek to find more rags and anything else they can get their ragged hands on. This magpie like behavior makes it easy to distract a shambler, they will more readily scamper after a tossed coin than a warm body. Aside from attacks on other homeless, the shamblers seem to have no interest other than their packrat collections and increasingly thick sheaths of worn cloth.

Warding off a shambler is as easy as childs play, a line of salt or germinated grain is as strong as a granite wall for stopping them. Invoking the name of a powerful good deity or brandishing a holy symbol will cause a shambler to mewl in agony and quickly retreat.

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