The storm is now competing with the sounds of the pitched battling in the market square of Veniset. The blinding snow seems to be an afterthought for the combatants involved—just desperately trying to stay alive long enough to deal with the blizzard.
Alma, seething at losing the footrace to the barricade, musters up a reserve of energy and rifles off his shield spell quicker than he’s ever been able to in his entire life. The energies seem to be flowing freely with his sword as he charges through the villagers. Bellowing for the people to avoid the creature on the right, he braces one foot onto a log and launches himself up to meet the creature. The beast seemed to be squaring off for Lornaal…and somehow didn’t see Alma; but, now the creature’s vision of Alma flips through his undead mind as Alma lops the head off of the wicked creature. The head flipping end over end arching over the fortifications to land with a thud on the other side.
Grunting distractedly Lornaal elbows Alma uncomfortably as he readjusts his attack to cut into the lumbering creatures coming down the other side of the barricade. Relishing the feel of the southern great axe in his hands, this new tool of destruction now creates a wake behind him as Lornaal wades into the night walkers. Two beasts fall under the large swinging blade of Lornaal’s axe in spectacular gore of black blood and rotting flesh.
Borrowing upon his wartime training in the fields of Gromolickland, T’alen tensely mutters the mystical words to his spell so that enemies close by can’t quite make out what he is saying. With practiced determination and artistic license he splits his spell into four cubes of fire bearing down on the undead creatures. The flames lick through ally and enemy alike melting the snow on the ground where the combatants were standing. Blackened corpses hit the ground in charred semblances of their prior lives. With a jolt T’alen remembers the barrels and barrels of pitch that were spread over the ground he is standing on…and the ground in front of the barrier…thankfully…he didn’t seem to set the pitch off into an inferno of flame. That was close.
Stepping up to the top of the northern barricade with a resolute look of fury and determination scrawled across his face, Talton grasps his holy symbol and thrusts it forward toward the onrushing undead.
Abominations! Face the pure light of the glorious might of Pelor!
A bright flash of silver cuts into the dark snowy night creating a strange blue afterglow in the corner of the eye of anyone close enough to see the display. A weird strangulating second passes as the walkers all look up into the face of the priest. Then in a cacophony of bones and ichor the creatures start to erupt into the stormy night like a line of firecrackers. Exploding in gouts of black muck and shattered bones the entire northern offence is decimated under the gaze of the devout man.
Talton takes a step back looking down at the western wall and up at the roof tops.
We are hunting now, men.
Just as Talton starts to step back down from the barricade the first sickening movements of a fallen city guard telegraphs an attack. The prone guard launches at Talton just barely missing the priest and snarls in unhindered rage. Talton lifting a leg to avoid the new spawn bellows out
The dead aren’t dead! Make sure the fallen are all taken care of!
Sebastian, trusting that the northern wall was becoming secure, runs over to the next fortification to check up with the men. Quickly clambering up the ramshackle barricade he orders the men to be on vigilant watch for a secondary attack…or worse yet spies. With a slight flutter of robes out of the corner of his eyes, Sebastian spots a wight damn near at the base of the barricade. Calling the wall to arms, with the practiced motion of a seasoned veteran he buries an arrow deep into the chest of the walker dressed in the garments of a village priest. There doesn’t seem to be a mob on this wall; but, there is no harm in being careful.
Seeing Talton brandishing his powers in such a way causes Terrence to add another layer of thought to the normally gruff priest. The target he was aiming for exploded before his eyes misting the snow and night sky with the innards of the foul beast. Absently thinking about where Cora could be, Terrence decides to climb up a barricade to have a look around. Suddenly he notices the lurching attack of the dead guardsman on the top of the northern wall. Swearing under his breath, Terrence quickly brings his bow up again to bear: with a smooth motion he puts an arrow right through the new spawn’s eye…but this doesn’t stop the beast’s thrashing.
Matrim coolly watches the undead detonate in the street below. Knowing through the few wisps of clarity amidst the gale of snow that the other barricade was holding its own, Matrim gathers the villagers on the roof. He orders each to check the positions of the others and report what was happening. As well, each was to scour the ground for other enemies. With that he runs across the bridge to have a better look at the battle on both sides. With practiced eyes he spots a walker on the street below opposite the street of the main force. The beast is just standing there staring at the villagers fortifications. Matrim draws his bow again and takes aim at the evil beast.
The town folk have, and are, fighting valiantly. Militiamen have followed Talton to man the northern wall in place of their fallen companions, they continue to battle the beasts on the western barricade and they stand vigilant upon the other fortifications. The guardsmen hold their positions strong and are quick to call out if there is a problem. The loggers have entered the fray with relish, now taking turns with the villagers pounding back the last three creatures on the western barricade. And now, Gregor has taken command of the eastern wall just in case there is a flank. These villagers are true northerners: strong, willing and able.
The creatures continue their assault: the three within the wall lash out with undisguised fury at the villagers surrounding them. The newly wakened creature, prone on the north wall, lashes out with pure hatred. The walker with Sebastian’s arrow in its chest charges up the northwest barricade and clutches at a guardsman with shinning green eyes draining the life force out of the brave villager. While others appear to be disappearing into the night: the creature that Matrim spotted took off into the darkness of the storm, the wight that killed the guardsman on the far side of the western wall retreated into the blinding snow and darkness and a single creature spotted by a militiaman on the roof watches the beast head north.
Managing to scale down the house while safely hiding in the shadows you crawl out to the edge of the road. The snow is higher than your prone form so you find no difficulty hiding from the now two creatures across the lane. While you were climbing another must have shown up. The original one is still calmly facing the barricade apparently watching the battle through the snow and darkness, while the other is gesticulating a bit erratically and pointing north. After a few seconds of ‘talking’ the ‘new’ wight fans a hand at the watcher and starts heading north past the house you were perched atop. The watcher continues to watch.