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canyonwalkerThe swarm of undead creatures pouring forth from darkened doorways and alleys in the City of the Dead wasn't the totality of the ambush, it was just part of it. Several worgs— creatures like wolves but bigger, stronger, smarter, and evil— bounded in to join the fray. ...Though not as many this time as a few weeks earlier, because the PCs had killed a few already. These survivors were out for revenge!
And even the worgs weren't the rest of it. There were more undead, too. In addition to the ghouls and ghasts, the corrupted bodies of humans killed in the city, there were zombies of the animals killed alongside them. In this case, their horses.
Yes, even the horses are undead! A pair of horse-zombies galloped in from the crossroad ahead of the PCs and began head-butting their horses.
Oh, but it wasn't even just a pair of horse-zombies. The party heard a familiar clip-clop, clippity-clop, and saw their old friend, the pack mule, coming for them. ...Except "friend" was no longer a fitting term. This was the mule with a broken leg they left for dead at the bottom of a pit!
Normally the mule would focus its attacks on Herran, the PC it holds most responsible for leaving it for dead. Herran, however, wasn't reachable in combat. He was already surrounded by horse-zombies. So the evil undead mule focused its ire on the most available target, Astrin the paladin.
"Why's he attacking me?" Hawk (who plays Astrin) asked.
"You're open," I shrugged.
"I blame you all. You all failed me!" I vamped, as if the undead mule could speak.
"Well, now you're evil," Astrin retorted. "It's time for me to Holy Smite your ragged ass!"
And she went all in on beating that undead mule. She beat it to within an inch of its un-life. Then her horse— Krystal, her intelligent celestial warhorse— finished the job. Krystal reared and came brought down a massive hoof on the teetering mule's skull, crushing it to oblivion.
"You always complained too much," Krystal scoffed. "You were a bad mule. Bad!"
With that, Krystal and Astrin pranced away. Certainly someone somewhere still needed help killing a ghoul or something.
More to come: Into the fallen temple— face-to-face with the Big Bad Undead!
And even the worgs weren't the rest of it. There were more undead, too. In addition to the ghouls and ghasts, the corrupted bodies of humans killed in the city, there were zombies of the animals killed alongside them. In this case, their horses.Yes, even the horses are undead! A pair of horse-zombies galloped in from the crossroad ahead of the PCs and began head-butting their horses.
Oh, but it wasn't even just a pair of horse-zombies. The party heard a familiar clip-clop, clippity-clop, and saw their old friend, the pack mule, coming for them. ...Except "friend" was no longer a fitting term. This was the mule with a broken leg they left for dead at the bottom of a pit!
Normally the mule would focus its attacks on Herran, the PC it holds most responsible for leaving it for dead. Herran, however, wasn't reachable in combat. He was already surrounded by horse-zombies. So the evil undead mule focused its ire on the most available target, Astrin the paladin.
"Why's he attacking me?" Hawk (who plays Astrin) asked.
"You're open," I shrugged.
"I blame you all. You all failed me!" I vamped, as if the undead mule could speak.
"Well, now you're evil," Astrin retorted. "It's time for me to Holy Smite your ragged ass!"
And she went all in on beating that undead mule. She beat it to within an inch of its un-life. Then her horse— Krystal, her intelligent celestial warhorse— finished the job. Krystal reared and came brought down a massive hoof on the teetering mule's skull, crushing it to oblivion.
"You always complained too much," Krystal scoffed. "You were a bad mule. Bad!"
With that, Krystal and Astrin pranced away. Certainly someone somewhere still needed help killing a ghoul or something.
More to come: Into the fallen temple— face-to-face with the Big Bad Undead!
