he gestures to the rows of tombstones around you, stretching out like a sea of broken stone teeth in the mist. You approach one at random, kneeling down to read the inscription.
Suddenly the earth beneath you buckles and shifts, a low moan slowly rising with the abomiantion making it as the zombie interred within the despoiled ground claws its way to the surface. It reaches up to you with a half-rotted hand, fingers locked like curled claws in rigor mortis, its eyeless sagging face staring accusingly up at you as its lipless maw opens wide-
"Shhhh." You place your hand against its skull and gently yet firmly shove it back down into the ground. The zombie lets out a confused moan - you continue to make soft shushing noises as you read the rest of the inscription, holding its head under even as it struggles and squirms, as if drowning it. You make a half-interested noise as the surname in particular seems to swim before your eyes, resolving itself multiple different ways. "Hmm. It looks like this place belonged to the Douglas house, but the name is constructed with two words from an older dialect basically meaning 'dark river'."
"Think it's relevant?" Issachar asks.
"I don't know! I think it's interesting and I don't get many opportunities to flex the gift of tongues," you say, somewhat petulantly. "Anyway, it seems like this son of the line died fairly young, Severe anaemia he never managed to recover from, I think. There's a symbol on his headstone."
You straighten up. The zombie resumes clawing its way to the surface, sounding somewhat more upset now that its big entrance has been ruined.
