Can Arthur kill a bloater zombie?

In the midst of their planning and the looming threat of their journey, Arthur found himself at a crossroads of truth and necessity. He chose a path woven with tales and half-truths. 

"I've got a talisman," he announced, his voice carrying a mix of confidence and the edge of a well-crafted lie. 

"It can protect us from the undead until we're settled in our new home."

The revelation was met with a mixture of skepticism, shock, and a glimmer of hope among the settlers. The very notion of such an item, especially one claiming to offer protection from the undead, was unheard of, yet desperately needed.

"How does such a thing work?" Elenion asked, his curiosity piqued despite his reservations.

"And where did ye come by this talisman, if I may be so bold?" Torin added, his tone a blend of skepticism and interest, his accent thickening with each word.

Before their questions could spiral into demands for proof, Arthur cut them off. 

"I can only create it alone, and it needs the blood of a bloated zombie to be powered up," he explained, weaving his lie with threads of truth. In reality, the talisman would only come into his possession upon completing his quest—killing a bloated zombie.

"I plan to hunt one down tonight. While everyone's busy packing, I'll take care of it," Arthur declared, setting his resolve in stone.

Elenion and Torin exchanged looks, then, almost simultaneously, offered their assistance. 

"You shan't go alone. We'll help," Elenion insisted, his sense of duty overriding any doubts.

"Aye, a fight with a bloated one is no small matter. Count me in," Torin affirmed, his willingness to stand by Arthur's side evident in his determined gaze.

Arthur, touched by their offer, found a moment of genuine connection amidst the deception. 

"I appreciate it, truly, but this is something I must do alone. Just make sure everything's ready to move when I get back," he said, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the elf and dwarf for the first time.

Their willingness to dive into danger for the sake of the settlement, and for him, a man they barely knew, spoke volumes. It reinforced Arthur's belief that, despite the lies necessitated by his situation, his intentions to protect and lead this group were as real as the dangers they faced together.

"If you're so dead-set on tackling one of those bloody nightmares, which, mind you, sounds like a bloody impossible task, at least take some gear with you," Lira said, her pragmatic tone tinged with a hint of sarcasm. "And hey, if you end up dead, I suppose I can always collect whatever's left of you tomorrow." Her straightforwardness lacked any real warmth for Arthur, given their brief acquaintance.

Arthur couldn't help but let out a laugh, the grim humor of the situation not lost on him. "Love the vote of confidence. And how casually you mention picking through my remains," he quipped, "So, what wonders do you have that might give me a fighting chance?"

Torin scratched his head, his expression a mix of thoughtfulness and skepticism. "We ain't exactly flush with weapons here, lad. Doubt there's anything in our stash that's bloater-zombie killing material. But we can spare some arrows, a bow, and a better knife than the sorry excuse for a blade you've got there."

"Sounds like a fucking upgrade to me," Arthur replied, accepting the offer with a nod. He understood the limitations of their resources all too well.

Elenion, seeing the need to shift the community's focus from the impending danger to preparation for their journey, dismissed the gathered settlers. "Let's get everything ready for our departure. Time's not on our side," he commanded, ushering the crowd to begin packing.

He then led Lira, Arthur, and Torin to a dilapidated building that served as their makeshift storage. The structure, worn and battered by time, housed the remnants of their collective survival—a few weapons and bits of equipment salvaged from better days.

As they entered, the air was thick with dust, and the scant light illuminated the sparse contents. Elenion motioned towards the weapons.

 "Take what you need, Arthur. May it serve you well tonight."

Arthur, picking up the bow and feeling the weight of the knife, felt a surge of determination. These tools were far from perfect, but they were what he had to work with. 

"Thanks," he said, a genuine note of gratitude in his voice. "I'll make sure to come back, if only to prove Lira wrong."

As the sun began its slow descent towards the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, Arthur prepared for the daunting task ahead. Armed with the modest arsenal provided by his newfound companions, he felt a mixture of anticipation and resolve stirring within him.

"Just remember," Lira cautioned, her voice serious despite her earlier jests, "there's a sand pit not far from here. It's claimed more than a few unwary souls. Don't be a bloody idiot and fall into it."

Arthur smirked, an idea already forming in his mind. "Thanks for the tip. Might just turn that pit into an advantage," he mused, his strategic mind turning the potential hazard into a potential ally in his upcoming battle.

"Aye, just make sure ye come back in one piece, ye hear?" Torin added, his gruff voice betraying a hint of concern beneath his rugged exterior.

Elenion, usually more reserved, offered a nod of solidarity. "May the shadows protect you," he said, a traditional elven blessing that seemed fitting given the circumstances.

Arthur, feeling the weight of the task at hand, took a moment to look back at the settlement, its inhabitants busy with preparations for the journey ahead. "Don't start packing up without me. I'll be back before you know it," he declared, his tone a mix of bravado and genuine promise.

With a final nod to his companions, Arthur turned and made his way toward the outskirts of the settlement, the fading light casting long shadows across the ground. The silence of the approaching night enveloped him, punctuated only by the distant sounds of nocturnal creatures and the soft whisper of the wind.

As the settlement faded into the distance, Arthur's mind was focused, his plan taking shape. The sand pit, a deadly trap for the unwary, could serve as the perfect weapon against the bloated zombie. The creature, driven by hunger and devoid of the caution that living beings might possess, would be vulnerable to such environmental hazards.

The landscape grew more desolate as he ventured further, the soft sand beneath his feet a constant reminder of the pit's proximity. Arthur's senses were heightened, aware of the dangers that lurked in the darkness, his every step measured and deliberate.

Finally, as the last sliver of sunlight disappeared, Arthur found himself at the edge of the sand pit Lira had warned him about. The moon, now rising, cast a pale light over the scene, illuminating the treacherous ground.

"Time to see if this plan of mine is as clever as I think it is," Arthur whispered to himself, scanning the area for any sign of the bloated zombie. His heart pounded, not just from the adrenaline of the hunt, but from the knowledge that the fate of the settlement could hinge on the outcome of this confrontation.

As twilight deepened into night, Arthur busied himself gathering sticks and dried leaves, scattering them across the sand pit's deceptive surface. The pit itself was a menacing natural trap, its edges blending seamlessly with the surrounding terrain, making it nearly indistinguishable from the solid ground until it was too late. 

With his preparations complete, Arthur stepped back to survey his handiwork. The sticks and leaves formed a fragile veneer, a false promise of solid ground designed to lure the bloated zombie into its doom.

"All that's left now is to wait for our undead friend to make an appearance," Arthur murmured to himself, his eyes scanning the darkness for any sign of movement.