Alma and Cora
Wordlessly, the woodsman draws his bow and fires at point-blank range into the face of the wight attacking him. The arrow has less than a foot to go before slamming into the creature’s head, bursting from the back. It staggers, but remains standing.
The grey wolf, Loqutore, with only the slightest snarl darts forward, latching onto the wight’s leg, pulling off a large chunk of flesh and causing it to fall to the plank floor of the porch.
As he retreats through the doorway he whistles for the wolf to follow him. It releases the still struggling wight and runs into the house.
We will wait for you.
And then he is gone, running after Pete and Brianna.
Kandure Attack #1: 16
Wolf Attack: 15
Trip Attempt: 12(d20)1 = 6 Wight’s Str
The footsteps that you heard in the house stop outside the door to the bathroom. A second ticks by and all you can hear is the sounds of heavy breathing.
You get ready to brace the door if someone throws their weight against it when you hear the familiar voice of the mayor whispering.
I don’t see anyone in the back yard, but I can hear screaming coming from the inn yard! We will have to chance it. The horses are our only hope.
You are tightening the belt around your waste, you only need a few more seconds to finish getting your armour on and then you can scoop up your gear.
You are alone now. Except for your mirror images. The phantoms have helped you immensely, but they are only a mirage and ultimately it is only you who stands against so many undead.
You feint at one of the wights and then swing a low, powerful side-ways cut at the other. The blade slices through flesh and bone, cutting the undead in half. You carry on with the swing, your arms aching as you slash a deep gouge in the arm of the only wight to remain standing on the porch.
The beasts are tough. Any of these wounds would fall a mortal man. Your only choice is to batter them until whatever darkness animating them is beaten out of their bodies.
The wight with Kandure’s arrow sticking out of its head crawls across the porch, lashing out at one of the mirror images, causing it to vanish.
The other wight, its injured arm hanging uselessly at its side, lashes out at another of Alma’s images causing it to wink out. There is only a single mirror image left.
Wight #1 Attack: 19
Mirror Images: 1d4 = fail
Wight #2 Attack: 23
Mirror Images: 1d4 = fail
The three wights that exited the stone house have made no move to assist those battling Alma on the porch of the mayor’s house. Instead, they are joined by two more of the dessicated undead, who walk from the house flanking a small girl of perhaps six. Her brown hair is braided neatly down her back and she is dressed in a thin nightgown that stops at the ankles of her bare feet. She shivers briefly against the chill of the night and looks up and down the street with large dark eyes.
Though Alma has never seen this girl before, the shape of her face and the colour of her eyes is enough to reveal who she is: Margarey Hoffsteader, the sole survivor of the family slaughtered by the goblins.
The recognition chills Alma to his very bones. The girl is small and defenceless. Any of the wights surrounding her could snuff her life out in a heartbeat. There is no way to get to her before such a thing happens. Anger and despair wells in Alma’s heart.