Alma and Cora
Kandure casts a quick look over his shoulder.
Alma is holding the door. He’ll follow in a moment.
He almost sounds as though he believes it. The northman listens to your plan, nods and then says:
If you aren’t back by the time we are ready, a horse will be left for you in the inn yard. We make for an abandoned mill five miles south of here. Follow the trail along Rabbit Creek and it will take you there. Be careful, Cora.
Your senses are taught as you slip through the door into the farm yard. A wave of heat from the burning barn washes over you, instantly causing you to break out in a sweat. You feel dreadfully exposed as you creep through the well-lit yard. The light from the fire has created contrasting shadows; stark and impenetrable amidst the areas of illumination. You make for these, quickly working your way to the fence and clambering over it into the grassy alley between Peter’s yard and the inn’s. Peering between the slats of the inn’s fence you see two of the devilish creatures bending over the prone form of the innkeeper Bess. Blood drips from the knuckles of their bony hands as they scan the area for new victims.
A whinny from the stressed horses in the stables draws their attention. Without a sound they creep across the dirt-packed yard towards the building, hungry to snuff out whatever form of life they can find.
You scamper to the top of the fence, take a breath to steady your heart and draw a sundrod from your pouch. Holding the iron rod in your hand, you strike the gold tip against the pommel of your dagger. It takes only a heart beat for the nimbus of steady golden light to surround the rod, vanquishing the shadows around you.
In a wordless voice you shout at the two creatures of darkness, watching as they wheel about and run across the yard towards you.
Your words make the young girl chortle, a sound that is all the more disgusting coming from the tender young face of a child.
Indeed I am favoured, Alma. I shall delight in offering you to my master. Your suffering shall be exquisite and your demise a triumph of death over life.
As she speaks, four of the wights close in towards you. Realizing the peril of lingering too long, you break towards the inn, leaping from the porch and fleeing towards the front door.
As you cross the alley-way leading to the inn, a blinding light suddenly grows from somewhere behind the buildings. Unable to stop and investigate, you can only pray that your companions have made it safely to the stables.
The heavy plank door of the inn gapes wide open before you. Bursting through, you slam it in the face of the pursuing wights. You grasp a wooden bar leaning against the wall and drop it into the slots just as the undead slam into it.
Realizing that the bracing is unlikely to last long, you turn, scanning the taproom. The narrow stairs leading to the second story are at the centre of the room, next to the bar. There is a narrow hall that runs between the stairs and the kitchen to the back door.
Your room is on the second floor, on the west end of the inn. You look at your bare feet, dirty and covered in blood and filth from the battle. Your boots and other equipment are up there. You make for the stairs, crossing the taproom quickly.
You leap from the fence, running as fast as you can for the street. You can hear the two wights as they clamber over the fence, dropping into the alley and charge after you.
As you round into the streets, you throw the sunrod towards Pete’s house, turning the opposite direction to run towards the front door of the… HOLY SHIT!!!!
Four of the undead creatures are standing at the front of the inn, battering at the door, trying to break in. Glancing toward’s Pete’s house you see two more of the undead flanking a small girl in her nightgown walking down the road. The girl has a sinister and creepy grin on her face.
FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!
You glance back down the alley and see the two wights from the inn yard bearing down. There is no time to think. The creatures at the front of the inn haven’t seen you yet, but the two by the girl definitely have.
You take the first of the narrow steps, but get no farther before the wight hiding behind the bar springs towards you, lashing out with its fists. Bypassing your last mirror image, the hideous creature-formerly a lanky man with short, dark hair and a hooked nose-slams into your chest, knocking you back and driving the wind from your lungs. Fixing you with dark eyes full of hatred the wight opens its fanged mouth, seeking to tear the life from your body before resurrecting you as another of the undead.
Move Silently: 26 (Alma listen: 18)
Hide: 20 (Alma spot: 10)
Attack: 23 (Alma flat-footed AC: 18)
Mirror Image: Successful hit
Damage: 1 negative level
WHAT DO YOU DO?