Feldard was quick to fire off his crossbow bolt at one of the horde chasing the rogue. Purposefully avoiding aiming towards his companion as he did so. “Move faster Ludo!” he bellowed out, attracting the attention of the undead. In another moment, the dwarf had reloaded and fired off a second bolt towards the horde – not that his bolts seemed to have much affect. He wouldn’t have time for a third shot so the dwarf dropped his crossbow and unshouldered his axe, moving forward at a run towards the undead. The dwarf was so much into his usual battle mode that he was unmindful of the fact that he wore no armor this time. No doubt he would be reminded soon enough.
Upon hearing Feldard’s encouragement Ludo increased his speed and angled his flight towards his companions. “Back to the village!” he yelled as he ran. “The living dead are attacking!” When Ludo met his companions, he turned and loosed an arrow at the nearest Skeleton and then resumed his flight.
Stephan, armed with only his sword and no armor, launched forward as Feldard completed his last crossbow shot. Ludo burst from the darkness imploring them to retreat, a tactic the Traldarian thought might be the wisest course at this point. He held his ground, however, to allow the others to gain distance.
Hasan watched as the ancient dead approached. “I have never seen such anger! These bitter souls long for their rest and to bring their unrest to us all!” The dead leader’s pantomimed rage chilled more than any animal’s primal scream. Hasan gathered magical energy from the cool woodland air, the hard, rocky soil, the hardscrabble trees that surrounded the dead. The elf’s brow bent as he pulled at these natural forces and lifted the leader up off the ground and away from his forces.
The elf had hoped that raising the wraith high into the air would have some effect on its undead brethren, but it did not for the skeletons and zombies continued their charge.
Feeling strangely fleet of foot due to the lack of armor, Stephan actually enjoyed a brief dance with the dead before fending off to make an escape. It was just as Maruc was declaring Halav’s power that a vapid zombie raked the woodman’s chest with sharp, dirty claws. The pain seared but his feet found balance and strength, allowing Stephan to begin his retreat to safety.
Maruc was not surprised. He had wondered how long the sleepless dead would summon the courage to assault his friends directly. He strode purposefully forward next to the stout dwarf. Producing his holy symbol from beneath the folds of his cloak, steadfastly he cried, “By the holy power of Halav Reincarnate upon the carven throne in Specularum, I call upon His Celestial Transendancy to cleanse this land and drive forth unto the blackest pit those denizens not worthy to tread His soil!”
Miklos stood back to give Maruc room the work his blessing. He kept his spell in reserve in case Halav was not so swift in His answer.
The priest had progressed to the point where he was able to destroy lesser undead at will. He had expected to see the skeletons turn to dust, but instead the first wave of them merely stopped their progress and retreated back into the night, but reluctantly at that. The cleric continued his holy invocations. This could take awhile.
Thankfully, Hutaakans that had been positioned to guard the wall joined the fight. Their priests attempted to turn the dead, but their power of faith was not up to the task. Only Maruc’s intonations seemed to have any effect as the rest of the skeletons retreated, then finally the zombies.
In the time it took for the dead to be turned, the three companions caught in the melee had all been wounded. Though the Hutaakans had not been able to turn the dead, they were quite capable healing any of the group who was willing to accept their offer of laying hands.