Having been waylaid on the way to the wizards locale we approached the town with our injured member in tow. The priest seemed to be abandoned by his god, the kobolds stole away his holy symbol as well as stripped him to mere tatters for clothing. We spent the next few days in the inn nursing our injured priest and rogue to life. During the evening we met the locales talking about the environment within the town.
Things were not good in Dolumn, the people spoke of the wizard with reverance and fear. Some of the more drunk patrons at the inn would lose their guard and betray the darker beliefs of the wizard. When we spoke people would use another name as if he knew when his name was spoken, and he could hear the conversation. Learning more of the wizard was slow going, I drank right along with the patrons, they did need their encouragement after all. Each morning I woke from the table I passed out at and I would care for the cleric and rogue then go out to speak to more people. The crusader worked at doing the same, some street toughs tried to jump him in an alley way though so he laid low after killing his attackers.
During the nights when the inn was shuttered we heard moans of pain and shuffling of armored feet. The locals claimed it was nothing, but one drunken sot said the dead had come to claim the town's souls. Dead come to life...my left nut, more like the old man had to much to drink, and thats rough coming from a drunk like me.
By the time our peers awoke several days later I had learned the Church to Pelor had been closed to the public. I decided it was time we seek the cleric of Pelor to 'enlighten' our situation. Knocks at the great door of the church were answered with 'go away.' Inspecting the sides for a servants entrance were successful. Dolfene and I were forced to confront the old priest, at first we thought he was a servant to the wizard, but he showed his power and continual blessing from Pelor. He was just a spineless little caveworm though and wouldn't help the city.
During evening I re-examined all of the discoveries I had made the previous week. It was time to put the superstions to rest, there is no way the dead could rise...no way! I laid off the drink that night determined to confront the problem in the streets with the crusader and crew. The cleric decided to drink in my place that evening and passed out fairly quickly.
Around midnight the first sounds came...clamor at the gates, moans and the destinctive shuffle of armored feet. Dolfene unbarred the inns door and called out challenges into the night. We peeked out the door and slowly a huddled mass of bodies came into view. Grey, rotting, mindless the dead come to life! They wore armor bearing the markings of Krave and the wind brought the fetid smell of the recently deceased. The move slow though so I run into the in and roll out a keg of the most potent liquor available. Tears in my eyes me and Dolfene roll the keg down the street into the group of...zombies...lighting a trail of liquor left behind the explosion is spectacular. We work to dispatch whats left in the street then lock ourselves back in the inn. Seeing the dead walk, thats unnatural, I drink myself stupid and pass out on the floor beside the cleric, off to a far better place...liquored up dreams.
Tags: Polmund Ranger D&D 3.5 Booze
