The party entered the area with little caution at first, led mainly by the sounds that mimicked the moans of someone in pain. When they entered, they were shocked by the visions they saw; bodies, blood, and worse than that, feeding. The dead were on their knees, hovering over their food as they ripped, and tore at the flesh of recent victims.
Before the party could take action, they were rushed. It was as if these zombies were coming out of the woodwork - smelling the living.
There were even a couple dogs, half rotten; their growls now more terrifying than ever before as their maggot filled throats gurgled deeply with every roar.
The party quickly got overwhelmed. They struck a few of them down but were soon surrounded. Then, off in the distance, they heard cries. They heard the cries of a young male pleading to an older man.
In from the north, they walked in; a man carried a boy over his shoulder – the boys leg was missing, cut clean by something sharp and swift. Blood was rushing down the man from the thrashing stump.
The zombies could smell fresh blood and turned to the man. He was forced to drop the boy and fight back, but in mere seconds, he was knocked unconscious. The boy scrambled away, using only his arms to pull himself. His screams were louder, now more desperate as ever as he saw his hero being munched on by the foul creatures.
Some of the party recognized the man as Griswold, the blacksmith in town. He was one of the best craftsmen in the land, obviously trying to save the boy from this wrenched place.
The party was torn – do they save themselves as they are surrounded, or do they rush in deeper to save Griswold? Ivan knew what had to be done and rushed in next to Griswold while sacrificing his own life to save that of another. He managed to get in and heal Griswold. Needles, the Elf of the party, shined as he fired arrows rapidly at the slow monstrosities. With Elven precision, he was dropping them instantly by firing arrows through their mush filled heads.
Ivan drew the attention off Griswold but was now getting all the attention. The zombies were biting at him and succeeding. It looked hopeless.
The party did all they could and put Griswold's life first. It was a sacrifice worth taking because in the end, Griswold regained consciousness and got out alive. The boy he was saving, was Wirt.
This was only the beginning - Griswold explained that the undead were only a small portion of the horrors that lied ahead. Wirt cried out that the Butcher severed his leg and that most of the town folk fell to his bloodied axe. It was the worst thing any of them had ever seen. Bodies.... So many bodies....
They all agreed - this Butcher must be destroyed..
From the words of Needles:
"No, I am not surprised at all. I am top marksman in the Elven militia so it is no surprise to me that I took out those two zombies in one shot. The fact is, most people tend to lose their cool when surrounded by animated corpses, which is totally understandable; let's face it, they stink, they are covered with maggots, and their decaying teeth are not too pleasant when they are gnawing into your shoulder."
Needles smirks for a moment and turns serious again.
"listen, they are predictable; they are slow and tend to group up. The others fail to see this. Just stay on the move and they can't eat you. Shoot an arrow through their head and it's over with - move on.."
