Happy that they're not fishing with gnome bait, Ibrox takes his turn to cross the bridge.
Even as he tries to snag the falling druid, Finnigan marvels at Zove both for her magic and perceptiveness.
"What now!?" he calls out, unable to turn his attention to the far shore just yet...
The water rushes across the bridge, nearly a foot deep at its worst. The flow constantly pulling and swirling across the slippery wooden surface. Trevor is the first to cross. His youthful arrogance on display as he initially attempts to make the crossing without holding onto the rope. About halfway through, his feet start to slip out from under him and the look of triumph turns to that of fear and desperation. Fortunately the rope is there and the young knight just manages to grab onto it and carefully crosses the rest of the way.
Aterro follows, his heavy armor and more practical approach of using the rope from the beginning allow him to cross slowly but without incident.
The cleric is followed quickly by Vrindel and Finnigan while Ibrox waits until the last possible moment to make the crossing. Unfortunately the druid's nervousness around water is not without merit as a sudden tidal backflow washes upstream causing the trollkin to completely loose his balance. If not for a quick thinking and deft last second grab by Finnigan, Vrindel would have surely fallen into the cold waters.
Ibrox continues to wait while Finnigan finishes helping Vrindel regain his balance and hold on the rope. As the two struggle in the middle of the bridge, the scout happens to glance in the direction of Zove's warning and is the first to see the shambling figures of at least four zombies slowly emerge from the fog. The creatures have clearly been in a previous battle as one is missing an arm, another drags a broken leg, and another has several arrows sticking from its chest and back. Yet despite the grizzly wounds, the undead creature's hatred of life drive them forward to try and snuff it out.
The fourth zombie seems unharmed except for the bulbous, now recognizable form of a tick riding on its back. This is the first one to emerge from the fog and as it does so it suddenly begins a lurching run heading straight at Aterro, Trevor and Zove.
Vrindel squeals like a small human girl, as he feet begin to slip, then he feels the firm grip of Finnigan help him regain his balance. "Thanks friend I owe you one... but for now let's concentrate on crossing over and helping our other friends".
Vrindel finishes crossing the evil bridge, and take in the scene on the other side of the bridge.
Perception
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"Objective logged," Aterro communicates to Zove as he advances, hammer held high.
"My soul has been healed by the power of STEEL, and the sound of glory," he yells, imbuing himself with divine protection and charging at the tick-beast in the vanguard.
The lead zombie is suddenly engulfed in flames as Zove's blast lands true. Aterro intercepts the creatures charge by collapsing it's chest with his hammer. Although it staggers back a step it continues its mindless effort to kill.
As Aterro and Zove engage the cleric, Vrindel finally makes his way across the bridge, his feet again on solid ground. Straining to pierce the fogs veil, he doesn't see any other immediate attackers beyond the four creatures already trodding toward the group.
With its initial charge broken, the lead zombie flails wildly at Aterro, but misses the cleric completely. Having ridden its host into close range, the tick disengages from the zombie and quickly leaps over to Aterro, where it's mandibles find a weak spot in his armor as they sink into his flesh.
Seeing the zombie ambush slowly unfold, the gnome declines to cross the bridge enjoying the safety of his side. However, he hates this tick, because destroys so much natural resources. It must be destroyed.
He points his right index finger at it, and says, "Ibrox" in a stern voice after lining up his shot.
12 to hit
Finnigan holds the rope with one hand to stay steady and fires at the tick with his hand crossbow.
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Though the awful necro-insect finds a weak spot in the heavy chain, the innate thickness of the armor proves too great a hurdle to the terrible thing's attack.
"Bravery calls my name, In the sound of the wind in the night," the WarCleric chants, swinging his great hammer about him with divine might and impossible speed as he wades, uncaring of the foes swarming about him, into the thick of fight!
"Aterro... I'll remain here midstream... let one or more come to me on the bridge... I can fire on them from afar but I can fight from close quarters as well. We can trap one between us, it will not be able to defend itself from both sides. And anyway they look clumsy, they may fall into the river. I doubt they're smart enough to use rope. They won't last long assailed with spellfire from the banks by these two pointy eared demons..." he thinks better at the last and let's his voice get almost imperceptibly low as he finishes the indelicately worded sentence.
Finnigan waves his arm and shouts to attract the zombies.
Trevor swallows hard. He hated these things. They gave him the creep. Yet, people were in danger, and retreat was not an option with this flimsy bridge.
Trevor swallows hard again, then rushes into melee, Conundrum held high.
"Damn! It moved!"
Finnigan sees the puzzled look from Aterro.
"So if they try to come onto the bridge in response to my crossbow fire just let them come. We can flank them between us on the narrow bridge, Zove and Ibrox can pepper them with spellfire and maybe they'll slide into the drink and wash away... wait, these things don't know what I'm saying... do they?"
I had a long post this morning which somehow got eaten up by the website basically basically Vrindale cast Shilleigh moved forward and attacks with a 22 to hit and a 6 fordamage
Finnigan gets a good hold of the rope with one hand, checks his footing and squints through the fog.
just like the dartboard at the pub...
He exhales as he gently squeezes the trigger.
The presence of the tick causes Trevor to nearly panic as the nasty little creature leaps onto Aterro. Remembering the feeling of it's mandibles seeking his own flesh, the young knight's heart races as he suddenly finds himself short of breath as his swing goes wild.
Finnigan stays on the bridge and masterfully sends a crossbow bolt straight into the blood filled tick which bursts like a balloon all over Aterro. At the same moment Ibrox sends a blast of eldritch power racing toward the bug, but it's earlier leap throws the gnomes aim off and the blast churn and boils the mud near the cleric's feet instead.
Seeing the tick thoroughly destroyed, Zove steps back several paces and then turns her magical power back to the zombies. She conjures another blast of shadow fire and throws it toward the same one the tick was riding. Rotted zombie flesh sears and boils into under the Shadow Fey's assault, but the undead enemy continues to lash out in mindless anger.
Aterro, calls on the power of Thor, but finds his hands and face suddenly covered in blood and tick gore causing the grip on his maul to slip as he tries to fend off the onrushing zombies.
Safely off of the bridge, Vrindel imbues his staff with magical energy and strikes at the burning lead zombie. Although the blow lands true and buckles the creatures elbow it seems unaffected by the injury and tries to land a blow on Aterro, but it bounces harmlessly off his heavy armor.
The other three undead creatures stumble into the fray each mindlessly trying to snuff out the parties offensive lives. The one-armed zombie lurches close and with it's one remaining hand, lands a glancing blow on the startled knight.
The limping zombie attacks Vrindel but stumbles in the mud at the last moment and misses. The third creature, feels the shadow fey's powerful life energy and ignores the nearer warriors to pursue Zove.
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The blood of his enemies has little effect on the young WarCleric as his maul tries to slip from his grasp, but, obviously, Lord Thor will not deign to see such indignities come to pass.
Enraged that he has not yet claimed a kill, Brother Aterro redoubles his assault at the enemies about him. Inside, he feels insulted that the foes chose other assailants to attack. "To me, undead thralls! Let thy blows fall from my armor as water from a drake's back, and Lord Thor will cure thy ramblings with sweet release!"
"You're doing great!" The gnome encourages his traveling companions while safely on the other side of the bridge.
He points his right index finger at the tick, and says, "Ibrox" in a stern voice lancing the tick with a brimstone blast.
21 to hit
Khors prot- BY KHORS IT'S COMING AT MY THROAT! thinks Trevor and loses his momentum.
"Help!" he shouts, trying to fend off the creature with clumsy strikes.
Vrindel is Angry now. These abominations must be put to a final rest. His skin begins to burn, and surprisingly all his companions feel their skin begin to burn and tingle as well. Not painfully, but noticeably.
Shilleligh
Bashing damage
but finds his hands slipping on the staff
Finnigan realizes the zombies are ignoring him on the bridge so he makes his way to the bank and takes a shot at the zombie pursuing Zove once the fog is not an issue.
He draws his knife and positions himself to stab the one menacing Trevor.
Seeing that the tick is already quite dead, Ibrox adjusts his aim to the zombie attacking Trevor and knocks the undead sideways with a brimstone infused blast of eldritch energy. A moment later Trevor's panicked swings eviscerate the zombie spilling its rotted innards all over the ground near the knight. The corpse collapses to the ground surrounded by its own guts and a foul stench.
Finnigan finishes crossing the bridge and then shoots a bolt square in the back of the creature chasing Zove. The blow to staggers the undead but it continues its lumbering chase after the shadow fey. Unused to the the saturated ground, the wizard realizes too late how quickly it can give way as she sinks a few inches in the soft field soil causing her flaming blast to fly off wildly and harmlessly.
The earlier flames flicker out on the first zombie, but the undead creature gets little reprieve. Aterro, filled with the glory of Thor lands a mighty blow with his maul, crushing the creature's neck, collarbone and most of its upper body. The undead struggles on for a few seconds before finally collapsing to never move again.
Vrindel attacks with his magically enhanced staff but the blow merely glances off the zombie's rubbery skin causing no harm. In retaliation, the creature manages a hit that lands right on the trollkin's nose sending a stream of blood dripping, but little real harm.
The other zombie still pursues the shadow fey, but is unable to catch up to the quick moving wizard.
.
Finnigan steps in and drives his knife into the zombies back as it faces Vrindel. Then with the knife still buried he uses his right hand to point his crossbow over the creatures shoulder to fire at Zone's assailant.
just like a bar fight... nothing too it he tells himself. But his teeth are clenched and he's fighting his gag reflex.
More angry than injured, Vrindel lets out the primal howl of his ancestors, and renew's his attack efforts. He feels his blood pumping, and his hair stands on end as he howls. He can feel the distant tug of a weak ley line, and launches into another attack.
Magic Stick
Magic Smack
"That was close! I owe you one Ibrox!" says Trevor.
The paladin scans the battlefield and, seeing Zove in zanger, starts after the zombie.
"Hey! Leave him alone, you maggot!"
"You got it, Trevor!" The gnome encourages the young man while safely on the other side of the bridge.
He points his right index finger at the zombie, and says, "Ibrox" in a stern voice lancing the tick with a brimstone blast.
12 to hit
Finnigan drives his dagger deep into the zombie attacking Vrindel, but the undead barely seems to notice the wound. The scout's follow up shapshot at the creature chasing after Zove strikes it's mark as well. The bolt adds to the numerous arrows already sticking from the zombie's back, but otherwise it seems unaffected.
Recovered from his initial fright and shock, Trevor charges across the field and lands lops the creatures head clean off in one stroke and it collapses to the ground.
From across the river Ibrox, continues to shout encouragement to his companions and blast the already pulverized remains of the tick.
Seeing the zombie chasing her fall to Trevor's axe, Zove adjusts her aim to the monster still harassing Vrindel. Her searing fires quickly engulf the creature, but it struggles on now adding the scent of burning hair and flesh to the battlefield.
Aterro caught charging across the road toward the zombie felled by Trevor, reverses course and heads back toward the one remaining enemy. Unfortunately for the battle charged cleric, Vrindel dispatches the enemy with a resounding crack from his energy infused staff and the final undead monster falls into a smoldering heap at the trollkin's feet.
Happy the undead are dispatched, Ibrox makes his way across the bridge.
He examines the zombies and frowns at the ruined materials. Then, he looks at his traveling companions with the same examining gaze. "So, how did you fare?"
Finnigan wipes off his dagger. With the danger subsided he stops fighting the urge to vomit.
"Grblurfg!"
He spits a small amount of puke thoughtfully off to the side of the road.
"I'm ok," he answers the gnome. "What do you think happened in this village? Where do these ticks come from?"
Looking over the various corpses, you can see all of the zombies were very likely villagers and had been undead for a few weeks at least. They carried no coins and had nothing else of any real value which would be fairly typical of this rough and wild land.
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"HrrrrrrrrYA!" Aterro shouts, SLAMMING his maul into the un-moving zombie in rage and frustration that it had the GAUL to die before he could kill it. Washing off his weapon in the overflowing water, he takes a moment to reflect.
"As we have only found zombies, and no living persons, either innocents or the enemy, I fear that a plague of these zombie-insects may have fallen upon this unfortunate berg. Perhaps in their confusion to rid themselves of the insects and some few victims they inadvertently burned down the village.
I had been expecting vampires holding a leash, or even a warband of orcs, but I start to think that 'tis little more than a random plague.
We should make haste to the mill. Mayhap some few souls took shelter there while the rest of the citizens fell to bugs and madness."
Vrindel looks for a moment at Ibrox's question. I do not understand that one at all "I am fine thank you for asking". The big trollkin takes a bit of cloth, and stuffs into his nose to slow the bleeding. "I've done worse bumping into low hanging branches in the night".
He pokes around at the zombie bodies with his now normal staff, just curious about zombies more than looking for anything.
Investigation
History
He is quickly distracted however, and walks to the quick flowing stream to wash the blood from his face. "OK I'm ready when you are".
Examining the zombies, Ibrox observes, "All but one of these zombies have been in some kind of fight prior to battling us. Interestingly, the wounds certainly occurred after they had become zombies. This one creature with no prior wounds also seems to be the....freshest...corpse of the bunch."
"Mill? Don't you want to investigate the town first, Aterro?" the gnome asks.
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Aterro grunts as Ibrox confirms his theory. "'Twould seem in line. They were made zombies, then continued to attack their brethern throughout the town. Mayhap they took the fresher one hostage and assimilated him later."
He addresses the next question. "Nay. The town is large, and is already in smoking ruins. That way lies hard work, and doubtful survivors. There are three structures standing, and so we should start there, for there are most likely living people, and answers to our questions. The mill is simply closest."
Finnigan mulls over the situation. Hearing Ibrox report his findings, he nods. "I see that too. I'm thinking about something I noticed when we were traveling with Bentknee... the village she we stopped at, they had that funny system of pooling money for buying supplies from merchants. They would appoint one guy to hold the bank and buy all the goods... I guess if nothing else that explains why these people don't carry money."
His gaze lingers a little longer on the gnome though, trying to puzzle him out... "Maybe you were out of earshot. There was talk of starting with the mill. I thought we were all in agreement. But do me a favor, if there's more zomby's and ticks trying to kill us can you shoot at the ones that aren't already destroyed?" He wrinkles his nose as he talks.
The mill sits further upstream. A narrow muddy track disappears into the fog but should lead upstream the half to three-quarters of a mile to where the building sits. The palisade and village are further up the main road several hundred feet. Much is still hidden in the fog, but you can just make out the shadow of the wooden wall from where you stand. The third building of note, was a ramshackle hut down nearer to the sandy beach and the boats. So far you've not found a specific path leading there, but it is easy to assume the more traveled way would come from the village proper.