The world you see is not the only one there is... The myths and legends in our world come from a reality elsewhere, which is tenuously connected to ours. There are points our realms touch and through which the residents of both can travel. These points are closely guarded secrets and defended by the others, as they have seen what we humans are capable of and do not want us in their worlds. However, the bravely compassionate and foolish amongst them sometimes cross, either for adventure or to try and guide us. They are the ones who live in our myths and legends as revered teachers, or fearsome beasts.

When the human plane is rocked with violence and disaster, the barriers and defenses between the worlds seem to weaken. Roman legions march into mists never to reappear. WWII bombers vanish without trace. Tales of marine platoons who inexplicably disappear in the jungles... For whilst they may live on in our world for a time, no trace is ever heard of those who stumble into theirs. The guardians of these rifts and passages are lonely souls who spend their time watching and waiting; ready to sound the alarm.

One of these sentries was a centaur named Sage. He watched over a passage leading to forested hills that dipped down to a small human city. He watched it flourish in the spring, bustle in the summer and glow warmly in the winter. He watched it grow, and eventually... he watched it die. The war tore apart the night sky with terrible sounds and flashes of light. Sage could not guess what could have brought such a sudden and violent end to the peaceful valley, or why the air smelled strange... but he knew it heralded a great threat to the secret he protected.

He was right.

Two days later the first figures stumbled toward him. Ruefully he wondered how he would gently dissuade the weary refugees from his passage, his heart filling with sadness for the innocents. He took a deep breath and gently stepped out in front of them. "Hold, Humans. Be not afraid but you cannot come here." His voice was deep and clear, but none of the people before him started or offered any form of response. He frowned and tried again; "Hold! You must stop, turn back." and still no response. He opened his mouth to try shouting instead, but it was then he saw there was something wrong about how they were moving. As they came closer, fear began to rise in his chest as he saw that that many of them were broken and wounded beyond life, yet still walked. Milky white orbs stared sightlessly at him. Then an inhuman sound rose from them, one of guttural hunger. Confused, the Centaur backed up, notching an arrow to his bow as the walking should-be-dead lurched stiffly toward him, hungry hands reaching for him. He cried out a warning and raised his bow, hesitating for a moment longer and then slinging an arrow through the heart of the foremost human. It rocked on it's heels, but continued forward. Panic leaped within him then, and he strung arrow after arrow as he retreated, trying to bring the advancing dead down. A wild arrow took one in the forehead and finally it collapsed, unmoving. Swiftly, he realized that was how to stop the advance, and took out the remaining zombies in short shift.

Certain this first group was down, he galloped back to the other side of the rift and sent the signal to call warning. As soon as a runner arrived to find out what was wrong, Sage told him that there were undead humans wandering, and a war party was needed to defend the rift. The runner was unconvinced of the danger, thinking that perhaps the loneliness of the watch had driven Sage to fantasies, but did his duty and returned to the clan as fast as he could. He told them of Sage's warning and plea, but cautioned that the centaur had been left alone guarding the passage for a long time and may be confused as to what he had seen. None had heard of hungry undead before, and could not imagine how this could be. After long debate, a party was sent, but it traveled slowly and talked of how to relieve Sage of his duties.

Having sent the runner off to the clan, Sage hurried back to the human side of the rift. He gasped to see that from the city now trailed a mass of the undead, all following the smell of blood from the ones he had taken down. He strung his bow and checked his quiver, his fingers trembling as he hooked the arrow to the string. He had but a few left - not enough to hold all the undead at bay. Sage whispered a prayer to the goddess that the war party would hurry, so that he would not fail in his duty to protect his world. He battled on with determination, but for every Zombie he dispatched, two more seemed to take it's place. Eventually, he fought with his unstrung bow, using it almost like a staff to parry and thrust, trying to keep the horde back. But it was a relentless tide, and just as Caligula failed to defeat Poseidon, so too did Sage fail to defeat the sea of Zombies.

As he fell, the pain of his injuries was nothing to the pain of his failure. The bow slipped from his grasp as his flesh was torn away by ragged hands, he collapsed, bloodied lips moaning prayers as he tried to make his peace before death. His vision blurred but he still raised his arms to fight off the crowd about him. Suddenly, to his dizzy surprise, he found his strength returning slowly. His grasping fingers fell on wood and recognized the haft of his bow which he clutched fiercely. The press of bodies about him began to lessen, and he blinked as sight returned to him. Soon he was able to stand and the dizzying agony of his torn and broken flesh receded into nothing. Looking down at his hands & arms, he saw a subtle greenish tinge to his skin, his body covered in terrible wounds. Sage realized that he was beyond death, but not like the Zombies around him... for his reason and self were intact within his dead body. Slowly, he did the only thing he could think to do, and gathered his arrows from the Zombies he'd felled. Sage resumed his post, waiting for the war party whilst watching the undead milling aimlessly amongst the trees.

He reached back into his quiver, and continued the fight.

The sound of moaning reached the coming warriors first, and they then saw a figure through the mist of the veil. It was noble Sage, pulling back his bow incentaurly fast, firing volleys of arrows with breathtaking speed which were felling the hungry dead who had smelled the incoming war party and were advancing for the feast. Bemused, they galloped forward to join the faithful guardian in taking down the Zombies, but it wasn't till the last fell that they realized Sage looked very similar to the dead around them. As they raised their weapons he called out to them; "Hold, friends! I am not like those things... I fell, but the goddess granted my prayers." He explained that whilst his body was undead, his mind lived on and that he would remain at his post, if only they would ensure his supply of arrows. And so it was agreed, and Sage remained at his post to guard his world from ours, full of new strength and resolve.

Because of his dilligence and dedication, he became our Sagittarius in The Zombie Zodiac.