The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon

Zasutir POV

"These clothes you have crafted feel excellent. Wonderful work, you two." Zasutir enthused charmingly, admiring his new canvas shirt and pants as he praised Silvia, the dwarf armorer who dabbles in tailoring, and Miriam, a human teen. She apprenticed as a tailor before ending up in this situation.

He was twisting side to side and flexing his defined arms to test how maneuverable the stitching allowed him to be. Silvia even went so far as to prepare him a leather vest made of the skin of the white-furred deer that had been hunted yesterday. He was undoubtedly cutting a dignified look now that he was out of those ill-fitting rags.

Silvia chuckled softly as she watched the now younger old man test her handiwork. "I'm glad you like it, Shepherd; since yours turned out well I think we can start handing out the rest of the clothes we have already finished before continuing to the next batch."

Miriam smiles as she nods along, rolling her wrist as she contemplates the upcoming work. "Honestly, I'm just glad most of our little community are beastkin. We don't have to make as many pairs of shoes or boots, thanks to that."

Zasutir chuckled heartily at that, lifting his clawed foot and rolling it around with new flexibility at the ankle and knee. "I suppose it is one of the many blessings we can be thankful for despite our circumstances." He mused as he set his foot down. However, he soon adopts a faraway look and kind of glances over at the mountain where Vitmori resides.

Silvia had already settled down on a log that had been fashioned as a sort of bench before glancing up at Zasutir. "Is something the matter, Shepherd?" She asked curiously before glancing back down at the shirt she was working on for Aug in particular. Miriam watched the lizardkin curiously as she settled down beside Silvia to start on a pair of pants for Isaak.

Zasutir was silent for a few more moments before shaking his head as he settled down and sat cross-legged by the extinguished fire pit. "It is nothing, I think." He said, his brow furrowed before deciding to speak up. "I am connected to Vitmori, and I hear his voice and thoughts within my mind even from this distance. It's an odd sensation, even different from when you stand before his core and get spoken into directly." He tries to explain, taking his time to find his words.

Miriam listens with rapt attention, sufficiently distracted from her work. Silvia, on the other hand, can continue her work easily enough while listening intently as she occasionally glances over to Zasutir while he speaks.

Zasutir takes a moment to consider his words, his tongue trailing over his pristine white teeth before continuing. "It's a truly odd sensation to know that your mind is no longer solely your own, yet comforting to know that in your most desperate moments, you can reach out with a mere thought and find the support of another." He considered with a soft smile before tossing another glance up to the mountain.

"Though this connection certainly works both ways. In these last couple of days since Vitmori titled me a Shepherd, I've occasionally gotten flashes of moments and memories not my own. Thankfully they come to me as waking dreams, so distinct from my memories that they're here and gone within moments of arriving and only leave lingering impressions." At this, Zasutir pauses as he runs his fingers through his earthy brown hair, which is now so much healthier and thicker compared to a week ago.

Now even Silvia is sufficiently intrigued to stop her work, fully listening to Zasutir's words. In fact, a few of the others decided to come by and sit around the Shepherd to hear him speak.

"In these flashes, I see through the eyes of a man in a world not of our own—one that has ended, dying and decaying with the rot of the undead. The man carries a burden of guilt, disgust, and despair in himself, for himself, and his future. He leaves countless corpses in his wake, mostly that of the undead, sometimes that of beasts in the shape of people, and far too often the bodies of friends and loved ones who merely couldn't follow him in the path he forges for himself." Zasutir sighs softly as he shakes his head, shuddering as the intense emotions in those glimpses of memories surface vividly for him. "I think Vitmori is a benevolent being, though he carries burdens and damages the likes of which we probably won't fully understand."

At this, the members of the community discuss among themselves, though Silvia decides to speak up. "Can we trust this Vitmori? If he's as damaged as you say, what if he snaps and decides just to kill us all?" The others in the group murmur some more at that notion.

Zasutir nods in understanding at that, casting a glance back up at the mountain before looking to the others once more. "I know this is little consolation, but I do trust Vitmori. He had no real reason to take us in, and if he wanted all of us dead, I'm sure he would've done so while we were still in the back of those carts. If for nothing else, please trust me when I say we can trust Vitmori."

Silvia was suitably mollified by this, giving a simple nod as she returned to her needlework. The others were appeased by Zasutir's words as well as they nodded and gave their pieces in stating how they trusted Zasutir's judgment.

Just then, the group that went to the river had returned to the camp, chatting animatedly while their arms were laden with the many supplies they could forage from the woods, along with some fresh fish from the river itself.

The group of kids began to scatter. Those with parents went up to greet them. In contrast, the few orphans went over to the remaining adults who decided to become their guardians, and they too, were welcomed with equal enthusiasm as the children with blood-related parents.

Silvia was still somewhat distracted with finishing Aug's new shirt that she hadn't realized her daughter hadn't come to join her just yet. Setting the shirt down in her lap, she begins to actively scan around before looking at Isaak, her gaze narrowing as Miriam measures his waist again. "Isaak, where is Aug?"

Isaak, for his part, was surprised that Silvia was talking to him suddenly and quirked a brow. "Huh? What do… What do you mean?" Looking at the dwarven woman before looking around to scan the camp himself while Miriam stepped away, having gotten the measurements she needed.

Starting to get understandably freaked out, she stood and marched right up to Isaak, grabbing him by the chest of his shirt and dragging him down to her eye level. "I said, where is my daughter? You, Woody, and Virtisa were supposed to be watching her!" She raised her voice, shaking the startled teen as she quickly lost what little composure she was holding onto.

Before Zasutir could step forward to try to break this up, he suddenly felt Vitmori's voice echoing in his mind. 'Hey Zasutir, just letting you know one of my guys found a little girl. Apparently, she got washed away by the current of a river. Don't worry, she's fine and currently on the way; it'll just be a bit since she went kinda far out.'

Zasutir sighs softly to himself in relief before thinking back to Vitmori. 'Your timing is impeccable, oh great one, many thanks for your vigilance over our precious young.'

It takes a moment for Vitmori to respond, but he speaks up soon enough. 'Yeah, no worries, I said you all would be in my care, and I intend to commit to that.'

With that, Zasutir could feel the connection wane as Vitmori's attention went elsewhere. Moving forward, he grabs Silvia by the shoulder to get her to release the poor teen, though she lashes out, her fists striking like clubs against his copper scales. It hurts, but he tanks the hit as he gets her attention. "Silvia, Silvia it's okay; Aug is fine. Vitmori told me she's with one of his vassals and is currently on her way."

Silvia, for her part, looks remorseful for having actually hit Zasutir, speaking in a softer tone. "O-Oh, okay... Thank you.."

Zasutir merely smiled kindly as he pulled away before looking to Isaak and then to Woody and Zanitul as they approached during the commotion. "It seems she fell in the river and was washed away, and it probably happened too quickly for anyone to have seen her go. However, you must reflect on your failures today and be more vigilant over those in your care." Zasutir instructed with the firm understanding and compassion a man of his age would have cultivated over the years, Isaak taking this especially hard since he failed to even notice the girl missing. Not that Zanitul or Woody didn't look equally abashed by Zasutir's words.

"Now, let's get back to work; there's still plenty to do to make this place liveable," Zasutir instructed, the group nodding in understanding as they broke apart and went their own ways. Silvia and Miriam go back to making clothes, though Silvia's hand is unsteady, anxiety plain on her usually calm expression.