Walking Zombie 2

With each step towards Woodlands, the crates grow heavier, not physically, but with the weight of the questions they bear. As the settlement's gates come into view, you pause, turning to the stranger. "You’ll get medical attention for your injuries," you assure, eyeing the makeshift bandage that clings to their thigh. "But in return, I want to know why you're here and what Frank's role was."

The stranger nods, pain etched across their face like a map of regret. "We were sent by the Cultists from the City of the Sun," they confess reluctantly. "They promised us safety if we delivered these supplies—said they didn’t want any more bloodshed."

Frank’s head lowers, shame evident in the slump of his shoulders. "It was supposed to be a peaceful deal," he adds, voice barely above a whisper, "but things got complicated."

You regard them both, the morning sun casting an unforgiving light on deceit and desperation. "We'll discuss this with The Elder," you decide, resuming your march towards the gates. The walls of Woodlands, both a sanctuary and a tribunal, rise ahead, ready to hear the unfolding tale of betrayal and survival.

As you enter the settlement, the familiar faces of its inhabitants watch with a mix of relief and curiosity. The crates, once a symbol of Frank's duplicity, now represent a chance to mend the fractures within your community. But first, you must unravel the knots of this tangled narrative.