Meta Ruins of Myvolia

Tundrein Battle, Round 3

Cora and Alma

ROUND THREE

The Undead Woman

The alchemists fire blazes across the undead woman, devouring her blood-stained clothing and sizzling through her desiccated flesh. Her lower extremities are burnt nearly to the bone, but the damage does little to stop it. Limping forward, it springs at Peter Frund, scrabbling at him with clawed hands. The creature is off balance, however, and its clumsy attack falls short.

As for the ruined farmer laying on the ground, whatever malevolent force had possessed his body seems finally to have abated. As the alchemist’s fire reduces him quickly into a blackened heap, he stops twitching and moves for the last time.

Attack #1: roll 3(d30)+3 = 6 (miss)

Alma

You spring over the burning corpse, and through the oily black smoke that rolls off of it, landing next to the Mayor. It is amusing to note that each of your remaining mirror images follow suit, leaping to close around the fat, burning undead woman. You bring your great sword in an over-head arc, bearing down on the creature with deadly accuracy. The blade tears into the flesh of its wilted shoulder, jamming into bone before you violently wrench if from her body. Dark, corrupted blood sprays from the wound, flowing in black waves.

Attack #1: 21
Damage:: 15

Cora

You frown as Alma and Peter close in around your target. There is little hope in landing another vial without spattering them a bit. But that’s there fault, now isn’t it.
Your sling spins above your head, lobbing another vial through the air. It smashes into the undead’s face, covering her upper body in a burning, sticky film. The second vial lobs high, and for a moment you fear that you may have missed, but it too strikes true, crashing into the creature’s chest and driving it to the ground where the combined fire quickly engulfs it in a pyre of hell-fire.

Two more of Alma’s mirror images wink out as the burning fluid spatters into them, leaving him with only a single twin.

You consider your handy work for a moment before you hear the crackling noise of timber burning and watch to your horror as hungry flames quickly climb the wall of the barn, wreathing the door way and driving Alma and Peter back

Attack #1: roll 13(d20)+10 – 2(rapid shot): 21
Damage: 1d6: 2

Attack #2: roll 3(d20)+10 – 2(rapid shot): 11
Damage: 1d6: 6

Damage to Alma and Peter from splash damage: 2 hp each

Damage from previous round alchemists fire to undead: 1d6: 1

Peter Frund

The portly mayor hardly seems to notice the destruction of the undead woman as his mouth gapes at the spreading fire across the face of his barn.

BRIANNA!

He screams and presses forward towards the door, before being driven back by the surging heat of the alchemical fire.

There is another door on the other side!

He shouts, racing around the barn, plunging through the night with the urgency and speed of a father trying to save his daughter.


As the fire quickly spreads over the face of the barn, Cora and Alma consider what to do next. Peter Frund frantically runs pell mell through the dark to the far side of the barn. Before either of you can move to help, you hear a painful and terrified yelping coming from a dog somewhere out in the village. The dog’s incessant barking had been a backdrop to the night, ever since you first left the security of the inn and the mayor’s house. The canine’s frantic final yelp echoes through the dark and for a moment the night holds only the sounds of the crackling flames.

What do you do?

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