The heros triumph!

That Terrible storm. The thunder crashed around us, rattling our very bones as the rain pounded the ground. Streets turned to rivers and waves surged against the few buildings left standing.

As the sounds of those cursed with un-life rose around us and started to fill our hearts with dread, we confronted father Brushin about his part in all of this. He admitted that he had tried to bring the brother Marcel back from death with an ancient scroll he possessed. But the light of Ezra did not shine brightly enough within him and the miracle was corrupted, twisting Marcel soul and trapping him between life and death. As the story was told, young Luc became more and more agitated, calling for his dead brother, screaming visions of our deaths. The thunder rattled the doors of barn and they bent inwards. It was not the storm pounding upon our refuge, the undead had arrived. Peering out of the hayloft, we could see zombies starting to mass at the door, their undead flesh pounding upon the doors, screaming for our blood. As the lightning flashed we could see one of the servants standing in the shadows, urging on the zombies, as if they could be controlled. A crossbow bolt split the night, striking the ghoul and causing it to take cover beside the barn. This was the opportunity that we were waiting for; Bernard and myself snuck out the back and prepared to ambush the evil one. As Bernard let loose with his crossbow, the cowardly beast called for his undead minions to protect him. Bernard proved his worthiness once again and struck down the ghoul as the zombies gathering around us. We quickly slipped around the barn and with the light of Ezra glowing in our souls we managed to regain the safety of the loft. But the safety was fleeting. The zombies continued to pound upon the doors, each blow threatening to break the bars that stood between us and certain death. A hideous stench filled the loft as yet another of the ghouls gained entry into our sanctuary. Bernard and I rushed to fight him as the others tried to hold the door secure. My faith must have wavered that night, for as the foul beast struck me I could feel an evil chill rush through my body and I could move no more. I could hear shouts and fighting around me, but I was helpless. I heard the door shatter and much shouting and I saw Bernard slay the stinking creature, but still I could not move. When the evil chill finally left my body and I started to move, everyone had gained the safety of the loft. The zombies milled below us clawing at the ladders, but for now we were safe. We managed to pull up the ladders and bridge the gap between the sides of the loft and with no other option, we settled down and tried to get some sleep. It seemed that we had barely closed our eyes when Kelios screamed for her life. She had climbed upon the rafters and slipped upon something, crashing to the floor, falling admist the zombie hordes. Bernard and myself were thankfully quick enough with a rope to pull her to safety, although she had been badly mauled by the undead. We posted another watch and tried to rest, hoping that the dawn would bring some hope. The thunder continued to rock us to sleep.

The moonlight filtered through the torrent of rain and shattered itself upon a polished helmet. The helmet wobbled lazily as the body it was attached to stumbled and teetered through the muddy waters. The helmet gave a slight ring and a loud thud as the wearer bounced repeatedly against the wall, a dull puzzled look pasted upon its face. Lars looked away from the sight, turning his attention into the sleeping forms in the barn. He could not stand to look up the sight of the smith's youngest son, the newest member of the undead. He moved to wake father Brushin for his watch. Lars settled down for a rest. The storm made it difficult to rest, but he concentrated upon the voice of young Luc and rest slowly started to come. He could just make out the story of how Luc and Marcel had found an ancient scroll, how Marcel had been taken by the undead and now searches for the scroll to complete the destruction of the town. The story was chilling and Lars was shivering, as much from fear as from the cold. A hiss from the window turned him towards it and allowed him to see two of ghouls spreading their chill touch into father Brushin. Before he could even move the blanket off of himself, a pure light seemed to form within the ghouls and they quickly burst into flames and floated, as ash, into the night sky. It was then that he could make out the prayers of Bernard from behind him. Bernard moved the father into the hay and then took up a watch beside the window. Lars rolled over and finally slept, for the light of Ezra was their shield.

We awoke to a grey day. The storm was still upon us, and we could only tell it was dawn by the lightening of the sky. The zombies still milled around beneath us and we decided that we must search for the evil that had started this plague. We would continue our search of the graveyard, hoping to find the 6 stars that were talked about in the prophecy. It was quite easy to elude the zombies as we rushed to the graveyard, although one of them did manage to get close enough to try and bite us. We made quick work of it and easily made it to the gate. Finding the lock in good shape we passed into the graveyard and fastened the door behind us.

A few hours of searching in the newer portion of the graveyard failed to turn up any stars, so we boosted ourselves over the wall and into the ancient portion of the yard. We landed in what could only be described as a swamp. The ground was wet and soft and stank terribly. The rain still pounded upon us as we started our search. looking into the muck, we noticed many footprints, the tracks leading everywhere. Kelios clambered upon a crypt and was able to see many forms moving around. Moments after she warned us, the ground seemed to come alive. The zombies boiled out of the ground all around us. Those few moments seemed to last for hours. Everyone fought as if that day would be their last. But it seems that Ezra had favored us that morning. When the noise finally ceased we were all still standing and there was not another noise, except the dull thudding of the rain upon the earth. As we recovered our breath, we found a crypt that had recently been open. As we investigated we saw that a body had recently been removed and that the entire crypt was lit by 6 holes that had been carved into the ceiling; holes in the shapes of stars. This was the crypt where Marcel and Luc had found the scroll and where Marcel had fallen to the undead. But where was Marcel now? We widened our search and found the Tarascon crypt, with a set of stairs leading down. Down into the swamp, into the fetid water that stank of evil. We pushed forward, the water rising to our wastes, along a narrow passage way until we came to the final room.

As we enter into the room we are assaulted by the same evil stench that we had encountered on previous nights, and we spy Marcel, seated upon a throne at the end of the chamber. As we enter, his eyes open and he demands that we turn the scroll over to him. We refused, of course, and he raised his arm and the skeletons of his ancestors rose from the water and started clawing at our throats. Bernard called forth the blessing of Ezra and the skeletons dissolved back into the water. I ran forth and laid into Marcel, as only a chosen of Ezra can. Bernard was quick to join me. We were able to see another zombie burst from the water and charge into the corridor. An awful fight ensued with Lars and Kelios almost succumbing to the black claws of the fiend. Peotr was able to call forth his magic and snapping dogs did appear to fight alongside of us as we battled Marcel. But his fetid odor was too much and some of the summoned beasts appeared and their flesh dissolved from their bones. Then they turned upon us, undead beasts under the control of Marcel. My breath was coming in raged gasps and Bernard had rushed to help Kelios when Peotr cried out that he could hear more of the creatures coming closer. It seems that they managed to break through the gate and were coming to help their master. I summoned all of my remaining strength and attacked Marcel again. My fist connected soundly and Marcel fell, finally laid to rest. As he hit the floor, the skeletal beast collapsed into a pile of bones and the noises from outside stopped. We took this moment to bring our companions back from death's door and to assess our situation. The zombie lord was defeated, and the townsfolk were released from his spell. We had triumphed over evil.

Ahh, but at what cost was the victory. As we emerged from the crypt we encountered the bodies of the townsfolk. Marcel could only control the dead, so they only thing that we could do was to pray for their souls. The storm was slowly fading as if that too had been controlled by his evil magic. Our search of the town saddened us greatly. Only the grave digger, the wood cutter, the baker and a few family members remained among the living. It was agreed that the town should be given back to the swamp. The townsfolk gathered what they could and prepared to start a new life elsewhere. The bodies of those who had fallen to th evil of the Tarascon family were given a proper ceremony and committed to the flame, their ashes rising to Ezra. Father Brushin passed along all his scrolls of ancient knowledge as well as the map to the monastery. I had hoped that that was the last of the trials that Ezra had in store for me, but that is a tale for another time.