A pang of alien familiarity hit Ash as he approached the mountainside. He'd been feeling it for some time, crawling up his back like the spirit that was its source. Homehomehome it chanted, drowning out weaker voices. It had died recently and violently, and that gave it rare strength. And since Ash was a) the unfortunate soul who'd found the mangled corpse and b) was a living magnet for dead people, it had used that strength to latch onto him and make its desires known.
"...this wouldn't happen to be close enough, would it?"
Homehomehome came the response, the dissatisfaction twisting in his gut enough to make him feel ill.
"...thought so."
Damnit. That meant he was going to have start climbing, and that meant camping. Neither sounded like a good time.
This is what I get for doing the bare minimum, he grumbled, checking his inventory to see if he had the supplies to make it up the mountain in the first place. He had rations, and he had rope, but would that even be enough? The burial was supposed to prevent this from happening.
Most of the time, Lander ghosts were too weak to stay or were satisfied by the basic respect of a burial. It was enough to head off most hauntings, particularly hauntings of him. But it had done the opposite for this spirit, and if Ash wanted to able to get anything done in this damned game, he was going to have to play by its rules.
Well, at least he technically wasn't alone. Though he wondered if the alternative would be better...
@Kyra Varyth @Ueno Mizuki
