You have joined the ranks of the undead. By your own volition you traveled south of Podunk to the Graveyard. You are theirs now. But you are happy. As a human, you weren't allowed to eat brains OR loiter in the graveyard. You can now. You scream in exuberant joy "ZOMBIE!" as you rip away your shirt. But you are only a PseudoZombi, amongst the weakest of the legions. A simple smiling boy with a wooden bat will soon end your miserable existence. The time you have to enjoy zombiedom is numbered.

A treasure gleaming amongst the overwhelming drab greys of the terracotta dig. Gilded armor, an ornate warrior. A deadly grimace adorned its faceplate. It seemed possessed of life despite remaining motionless. A flash of vibrance in an army of still death. But it was not of this dig. Its inner workings were beyond the scope of ancient man. It took its time dissecting the excitable excavators. It had field research to conduct as well, after all.

An old page restored from an old bestiary. Amongst realworld species, there seems to be a contradiction. This creature is described as having "jaws that rend adamant" a "bellow that shakes the mountainside" and that "its hide deflects all pain." This is highly dubious, and even the pigmen on this page defy explanation. The mostly likely suspects are that this is some children's boogey monster meant to scare them to bed, taken literally as time wore on. Or that the attacks and attributes described are from accounts of multiple beasts. That is to say, the stories became rolled up into one, making some kind of ultimate chimera.