The horde approaches rapidly, the groaning and stink of putrid flesh striking your senses like the vanguard of the incoming army of undead. They trip over one another, undulating like waves of the sea, and roll into a rising mass. Out comes an arm, then another, both made of amalgamations of undead limbs and faces. Just short of a few paces from you and your companions, the mass rears back—like the final crest of a wave before it crashes—and stands fully upright, a monster of monsters. It groans with the voice of a thousand zombies and charges forward, hungry for more bodies to add to its menagerie.
