Neri lazily circled a small piece of bread in the gravy left behind upon her plate. The meal had been simple, but good Ertainian fare, and a welcome break from cold cured rations and the grime of the road. But the slow, dancing pattern she traced in her plate was more out of appreciation for the sweet music that Syana had begun to play, than out of quiet contentment.

The woman’s song was beautiful. A haunting melody that she was unfamiliar with, but which was so laden with emotion that no words were needed.

“Thank you,” Neri mouthed softly, as the music died.

Sadly Syana’s attempts for an encore, were drowned out by another, more ominous rhythm.

The whole common room of the Inn reverberated with the sounds of doors being thumped upon, and windows rattled. All seemed to conclude it was the work of the same shambling creatures they had met upon the road. The stout dwarf, Volkmar, jumped for his spear, and Shianna bolted for the door in panic.

Neri, for her part, groaned inwardly. It was just as likely to be children playing a prank or the work of drink-sodden revellers, but, if it was what they all feared, it was safer being inside than out.

“Stay here and be alert,” Neri muttered quickly as she rose from the table, picked up her sword and scampered towards the door that Shianna had left through. “I’ll go and get Shianna back.”

Isaac smiled sheepishly at Tessa's blush. Did she think that those flaming curls of hers would be easilyu forgotten by anyone, anye at all? And she had surely grown to be acomely woman, bubbling and talkative, but still with a shy side. Attractive, that combination. He could almost -- but no. He had fallen in love once and been ridiculed for it, laughed at for it. Not again for a while. But still, given the time and opportunity ... ah, well.

He chickled at the "moocalf" reference as applied to Martin. Martn's strangeness ws what made him the unique and likeable person he was, and only those who knew him not would judge him to be more than a bubble off plumb normal ...

The food that Tessa and another brought was tasty and filling, as good as he remembered it. The Brown had the bitter burn that he loved and missed, so he ordered another mug or three to sip on as he sat and waited for the promised meeting. They would be gone before the effervescence was, that's fur sure.

Isaac looked at Volmar sitting by the fire. Another strange one, but one without fear of battle. A bit on the somvber side, but then most Khords were the serious types.

Suana pulled out a stringed instrument that Isaac had never seen. It looked like a small, misshapen lute, but only had a few strings, and those were in pairs, close together. She strummed once then began to play. Not a rousing reel, or a ballad of derring0do that would lift the spirits of those in this room, No. What she played was a song of love and love lost, and what it could do to, and for, some. The lyrics, for some reason, broght to mind Torlianna, she who had laughed at the love he told her he felt for her.

She laughed, and such was the love Isaac felt that he could say nothing -- nothing at all -- to the tirade of abuse she heaped upon him for daring to embarrass her in front of her friends. Crushed, he moved to a nearby town and became sherrif of the region, protecting his own home and that of others. Isaac placed his face in his hands and rested his elbows on the table, trying by force of will to expunge the memory, but the song wouldn't let him.

But all songs must end. And this one did as well. But before Syana could begin another, there came a slow, heavy pounding aat the door. Isaac's first thought was,Just open the door, idiot !! . But then things got active 00 active and loud. Shianna screamed for her companion whom she had left outside. The shaking of the table caused Isaac to raise his head in time to see her bolt for the door, Neri close behind.

The pounding moved to rattle the shutters along with the door, and Vomar was yelling for his spear. Ha! Like he would ever forget his favorite weapon or it's location.

Then Isaac chastised himself yet again for his hesitation. Something was out there! Oh, for the luvva Myca! Not again! Not more of them! Oh, puh-lease,, Falloes of the Even Hand, not again! Isaac stands and pulls his sword and takes a stance just inside the door, to try and prevent "unauthorized entry" or to rush out "at need" if called by Neri or Shianna.

18th Olemra (Thirkday), 452 E.R. - evening
Fin and Feather tavern, Filwood, Ertain

Shianna, sick with worry over Meera, disregards any possible meaning of the banging, and rushes towards the door. Neri recognizes the potential danger and takes to her feet, prepared to stop the shy woodswoman from doing naything rash.

Before the cleric can reach the door, before Neri can intervene, the wood gives way with a groan, admitting three pale, mottled figures that groan as they move threateningly into the building!

In the light of the tavern, the living dead are much more unsettling to view. All wear tattered, rotted clothing, and their flesh hangs from the bone. One is missing most of its face, another has naught but bones for fingers. Their eyes - or empty sockets, as the case may be - certainly cannot possibly see, and yet, their gazes fix upon the living.

Tessa screams in abject terror as the undead abominations force their way into the previously cozy tavern.

They had wounded her once tonight and that was enough, it would not happen again. One hand held her sword, raised and ready to provide defensive actions for her.
The other hand fumbled with a pouch at her belt while her eyes stayed on the decaying flesh that moved into the room.

After a moment she managed to pull out a small glass vial. It was smaller than her palm and had a most curious design. The bottom part of it was divided into three sections like a pie, each containing a fine colored powder, one red, one blue, one yellow. The top was capped off with a cork which she used her teeth to pull out, and then poured a small pile of the colored powders onto the closest table. The cork went back in the bottle which promptly disappeared into her pouch again.

She bent over to bring her mouth closer to the table, and keeping her eyes on the undead in front of her she started to whisper softly.

“Lidana I beg thee be with me now as I know you just were. Let these colors, so full of life and brightness be a plague upon their undead eyes…”

And with that she blew on the powder and watched it spray forward.

((Color Spray, obviously. When that has had its effect she will resort to her sword for the rest of the encounter, fighting off all that she can as long as she can))

Shianna's feet slid on the floor, in spite of the fact that she was drawing herself to a stop. It seemed as though it wanted to send her to her downfall... to meet those things ahead of her head on.

Yet more abominations. Unconsciously, Shianna takes a step back. Not again... and yet, they are in her way, between her and Meera...

Meera... if they harmed one hair of her fur...

Shianna's heart continues pacing, but no longer out of fear. Instead, the fear is taken over by a surge of anger. How dare these things exist! How dare they?

Shianna grits her teeth, and from her throat a growl escapes her lips. Her hand reaches for her talisman, and she holds in before her.

"Thou loathsome and pathetic creatures. Leave those that live be, and shrink into the darkness that spawned thee! From death thou came, and so back to death thou shalt go. Wither unto the nothingness that thou truly art. Leave to find thy demise at the hands of time. Thou doest not belong here in the lands of the living. Leave this place!"

(Attempting to turn them... )

Aryan wasn't sure whether the scene in front of her was actually happening or if it was just the ale. None the less, she bolted up and nearly tripped over the table behind her.

She prepared to do anything to help when suddenly the world started tipping and she vaguely felt herself slide backwards. However, she did feel quite clearly when the edge of a table rammed into the back of her head and blacked out her vision.