As the morning mist fades under the rising sun, word spreads of the death of a local man at the Broken Bell Inn. The stories vary. But, for the relatives, no matter what the version, they mourn the loss, and fear the worst. By most accounts, the man was standing, bottle in hand, healthy as a stubborn mule, when all of a sudden he collapsed like a sack of potatoes. He was pronounced dead on the spot. While the sudden death of this beloved man, father, brother, husband, and provider for his family, left all dumbfounded and worried of plague or poison, what transpired next is cause for even greater alarm. The dead man rose by some will that was not his own, neither truly alive, nor truly dead.
If not for the decisive action of the Barovian guard, some mention Sergeant Ivanovich in particular, more than one family would be in mourning this morning.
Folks continue to speculate through the day as to the source of such foul witchery.
Some rumor that an outlander man had been in at the Broken Bell Inn earlier that day, and upon being questioned by the local guards, threatened revenge to come.