[Salem, Hymla, Mafoot, Cassius, Knit]
[Locations: wilderness trails to the Ashwood ; the elven hamlet of Ashstock…]
The group find and enter the elven village and alchemical/undead hell breaks loose.
The hired woodland trapper gets you directly to the target all stealthy like, a covert scout of vil in the woods reports picture perfect idyllic elven village with inhabitants very quietly going about their business, a camp out for the night in the damp wilds of the outer woodlands and much planning leads to a quiet approach the next morning.
Seeing a bright and pretty and quiet elven village with a dryad stone fountain in the middle clearing, the intrepid
band enters with no reaction or seeming notice from the inhabitants, even when poked and prodded. After some
investigating of the cabins (left un-maintained inside), and the fountain (the water tasted strange and made Cassius feel somewhat sick), some magics are cast revealing the area is permeated with strong magic everywhere, and disturbingly checking for thoughts reveals none except a faint trace at the north end of the village. Salem & Hymla then accost one of the villagers tending pots by the fountain, bend him over it and slit his throat, to no reaction from the victim, no marks, though when a small amount of blood falls into the waters there is a strange tingling all around and some witness a shimmering of the scene as though seeing a reflection in water waver after a pebble is dropped in. Some take water out of the village but to no obvious change, then returning, while Hymla and Salem smash at the seeing fountain, causing further ripples in the scene momentarily revealing another simpler village in place of the current one. Mafoot then casts a spell to sense the presence of undead, revealing a large number in the area once he moves towards the villagers that are now walking around the edge of the clearing, at which point all hell breaks loose to the now half-remembered whisper on the breeze suggesting they will never leave the village alive…
As the fountain is finally smashed showing a smaller stone spring choked with sticky thickly flowing blood, the massive illusion it was apparently maintaining fails revealing a simpler more wooded elven village and the villagers in normal woodland garb, pale, empty of life and blood and with a feral look in their eyes as they run to attack at the sound of an ominous clang…
The band, surrounded, use every ounce of strength, magic and power at their disposal to keep the feral zombies at bay, with the sorcerous energies of Knit driving many out of the strangling reach of the parties throats and the
mental powers of Cassius shifting the cauldron from the alchemist and delaying the effect of his dark mixings and
Mafoots magical barriers keeping one avenue unaccosted. When things look grim magics, strange powers, strong arms and stout hearts prevail forcing their way to the dark robed twisted faced alchemist and his black cauldron, through flesh, fire and bone until finally a wave of bubbling caustic acid gushes forth from the cauldron in all directions when things look dire for both sides, sweeping away the undead, burning friend and foe alike, Hymla and Cassius succumbing to the foul stew as Salem steps in and slashes his awful harpoon through the black alchemists corrupted body…