The maiden’s terrified screams rattled through the inn as the party looked on in shock.
“It’s happening again,” muttered the bartender.
Faus immediately started whispering “Grisby” repeatedly until retreating to a shadowy corner of the tavern.
As Lucia and Sturmberg leapt to the windows to see where the restless dead were coming from, Kristov turned back to the innkeeper.
“What do you mean it’s happening again?” demanded the merchant. “How long as this been going on?”
The barkeep stammered out an explanation saying the attacks started a couple weeks ago, and intensified in ferocity over time.
“At first the dead with just shamble through town and scare people. But eventually the ghouls started banging on windows and doors, and attacking anyone they could find before disappearing back over the hills to the west.”
Getting back together, Lucia, Kristov, and Sturmberg decided to wait out the attack inside the tavern but to keep watch incase they hear any townsfolk in danger.
“Maybe we can kill a couple of them as they walk by,” Sturmberg said. “At the least we can follow them as they go by and see where they come from.”
Kristov snorted, “Oh I think we know where they come from, and your fellow dwarf could tell us.”
With that, the dwarves mason slammed his mug down on the bar.
“How dare you impugn my honor you fleabag,” he shouted at Kristov. “The tower I was working at was deep in the first to the north and I didn’t encounter any dead until I got close to town. You have some nerve accusing me.”
The dwarf jumped off his chair and marched right up to the old merchant.
“My name is Boldo Freestone of the Meromannian Clan. I will not be slandered in such a fashion by a mere human.”
Seeing that he miscalculated, Kristov tried to talk the dwarf down, but blurted out, “Calm down Baldy…”
Before he could utter another word, the dwarf went toe to toe with Kristov and bellowed, “Talk to me like that again laddie, and it’s not the dead you’ll be worrying about, because you’ll be soon to join them.”
Shamed, Kristov slinked back to the bar and pondered a drink while Sturmberg tried to calm down Boldo.
The mason sighed loudly and said, “Well, it’s obvious you lot won’t be of much help getting my tools back, I’ll do it myself.”
With that, he drew back his cloak and unsheathed a well-crafted short-sword. As the dwarf marched to the door, the farm maiden tried to thank him but shoved her out of his way and slammed the door closed.
“Let’s see how he does,” Lucia said. “Maybe he’ll be able to get the townsfolk inside and we can just wait this out.”
Peering out the windows, the party was dismayed to see at least six restless dead stalk toward the inn.
Kristov rushed to the northern window and whipped out one of his prized possessions — an ancient artifact called Wail’s Horn. The magical instrument could summon a mighty wind that would bowl over anyone in it’s path.
Unfortunately, the three dead near the window stood tall despite the magical gale, and the sound drew the attention of the entire group of marauders. Several of the dead started shambling toward the windows, while two more marched on after Boldo. It wasn’t long before the dwarf was fighting for his life.
“Well, looks like we have to get involved,” Sturmberg sighed. He took to the window with his blade, ready to stab any dead that drew near.
Kristov pulled a crossbow from his sack and gave it to Lucia. “Let your aim be true so that we might see another day,” he murmured.
The merchant then drew his hammer, and marched out the door to aid the dwarf.
At first, the three fighters did well, Kristov rendered one of the two dead who injured Bodlo into dust. Sturmberg was able to slice one more into twain, and Lucia found her mark several times. Still the dead marched on.
Eventually, the main group of the dead came to the front of the inn. First, they landed a grievous blow on Bodlo, rending his left arm from his body, leaving him to bleed on the ground.
As Kristov ran to help, he was felled by the undead warriors after being stabbed in the lungs.
While leaving the inn to save Kristov, Lucia was attacked by a flail-wielding armored undead who battered her and crushed her foot. All that remained was Sturmberg.
Meanwhile, Faus managed to creep to a window, only to be met with more terror. The sight of his friend Kristov being brought low almost broke the sorcerer, and he retreated back to a corner in a catatonic state.
Sturmberg was in a different state entirely. The dwarves warrior became a whirl of steel as he sliced through the restless dead. He quickly felled two skeletons before locking weapons with the last.
The pair traded blows repeated until finally Sturmberg summoned the last of his strength and cleaved the ghoul almost from head to groin.
The dwarf raced over to Lucia and did what he could to set the bones in her foot, and bandaged her wounds with a poultice. The simple medicine was enough to bring her back, while still deeply wounded.
The druid limped over to Bodlo and called upon the power of her god to save the dwarf from dying. With a flash of healing light, she sealed Bodlo’s shoulder, making it appear as if the gaping wound had been healed for months.
Enjoying a bit of justice in the mason’s injury, Sturmberg found the dwarf’s severed arm and batted him about with it until the dwarf regained consciousness.
“Methinks you have some apologies to make when you’re able,” Sturmberg said and all Bodlo could do was glower at the thought of being saved by humans.
By that point, villagers started coming out of their homes and raced over to help the warriors. Lucia and Sturmberg got Kristov to his feet and all three hobbled into the inn, ready for a quiet’s night sleep to heal their aching bodies but fearful of whatever or whomever caused the undead to target the little village…
JesseFolk.com 