Asprun and the Zhazhe

Asprun the Wanderer was traveling in the northern lands. He awoke one morning to new fallen snow. Being hungry and not having anything left from the night before, he packed up his camp and set out looking for food. He knew there was a stream north of him, flowing through the woods. He entered the woods and was walking among the evergreens when he heard a fluttering of wings to the west.
Curious, he looked in the direction of the sound and saw what he thought was a raven. While not an everyday occurrence this far north, ravens were not unheard of. So he continued on.
A few moments later he spotted other raven, or perhaps the same one, landing on a branch a little ahead of him. This time he looked closer and saw that the creature had not two but four eyes, not feathers but scales. This, he knew, must be a Zhazhe, one of Shönäl's spies. It was rare for one of the spies of the God of Death to be watching a person unless that person was soon to die.
Thus Asprun asked the Zhazhe, "Am I to die today?"
The response was a trilling call the likes of which he'd never heard. On another day it may have frightened him, but on this day it did not. Rather, the cry made him more curious. "Would that be a yes, or a no?"
To that he heard a second, and a third cry, one behind him, one to his right. The Zhazhe ahead of him answered as well. The three (all the spies of Shönäl) then flew off ahead and to the west of him. "My curiosity grows, dear Zhazhe!" Asprun followed at a trot. As he ran, he noticed one of the creatures would circle around on occasion to ensure he still followed.
They finally came to rest in a small clearing. In the center was the decayed remains of a person, human, or perhaps elf. To Asprun's shock, it stood and began walking towards him on limbs barely held together by decayed strings of sinew. Alarmed, Asprun pulled his sword from its sheath.
The thing stopped a few feet from him and moved its mouth. "Abomination!" it hissed in one of the ancient tongues Asprun had studied as a youth. "Destroy these abomination!" Then it turned and pointed across the clearing.
There, shining with a cold blue light of its own, was a staff, staked in the ground. It was topped by a dark blue metallic ball. If the legends were correct, this was the Staff of Shönäl. When the realization hit him, the Zhazhe trilled in unison and took off. The creature in front of him collapsed and rotted to nothing before his eyes.
Asprun crossed the clearing and took the staff. He heard a rumbling groan in the distance and knew that Shönäl had gifted him with a quest of great import.