The Undead have overrun Sentinel’s harbour and the guards are either fled, dead, or in hiding. It seems the valiant Redguard whom in times past forced out the ancient tribes of Nede and Mer, and beat back invasions by Orcs and Goblins to establish their home in Hammerfall, are now powerless, or unwilling to make a stand against this irruption of voracious Ra-Netu.
Superstition can turn even the stoutest heart to scrib jelly. The Redguards refuse to defend themselves against the risen dead because they believe it dishonourable to fight their ancestors, and yet, they are quite willing to entreat others to do it for them. Surely if I were to solicit another to kill my brother, I would be just as guilty of his murder as the one who struck the mortal blow.
This is no time to debate frail dogma however, for more and more corpses that were lost to the seas are crawling to shore; soon the city of Sentinel itself will be under threat. Someone must be responsible for this foul sorcery.