With the storm blowing through the woods, all the creatures had gone into their shelters, all save a lone figure stubbornly moving through the heavy rain.

No normal living soul would risk treading out in the open in such severe weather, but Timo is no normal person, even as his boots dug deep in the mud and rain so heavy they would rob one of sight he cared little for his predicament.

Thomas just told him he could meet Hanson if he went out of the woods, all he needed was to gather some friends to make his trip, and his friends are somewhere in the woods, he just needs to find them now.

A flash of lightning hit a nearby tree and temporarily lit the area up, the surge of power blew the top section of the tree off, what's left caught fire despite the heavy rain, strong winds served to stroke the hungry flames that bite into the dead wood, burning brightly and giving light to the gloom of the woods.

Timo stopped walking, though not quite shaken by the Lightning that struck in such close proximity and even less the burning tree.
He has found his friends.

Come to me! Timo cried, with his arms out stretched high above his head, his eyes wide and almost gleeful as he calls yet again into the empty clearing.

Something broke free of the ground at Timo's feet another flash of lightning struck yet another tree nearby and lit it up as well, and it came clear as skeletal hands broke out from the mud around Timo, bony corpses and the likes of nightmares rising from the dead.

As the last of the undead rose from the ground, Timo broke out in maniacal laughter his body arched backwards into an awkward position even as the storm raged around him, flashes streaked repeatedly around the clearing.

Familiar Death fill the air, an army of skeletons already filled the clearing, named appropriately as the mass burial ground of the victims of the Black Death, an unholy plague that swept the land and laid waste to it's inhabitants and any that dares set foot upon these wretched lands

Straightening himself after the fit, Timo beckons to his risen and calls out loud, "I will find you now Hanson, Yari is right, you are coming home!"

"Ow ow ow no no dummy, you're not biting the ropes, that's my finger!"

Ducont yelps in pain as Doma nipped his index finger by mistake.

It has been a few hours since Elissa and her mysterious savior had left the band to their fates, now the gang mostly recovered are trying to free themselves. The process proved to be slow and tedious.

Davy wrestles his bonds as Higgs and boson tries fruitlessly to free themselves by biting the bonds behind their back for one another at the same time.

Ducont instructs Doma to free him 1st with promises to help him in return. Though secretly plotting to just leave the foursome as soon as he is free, the rain storm thoroughly soaked the five of them and Ducont wanted more than ever to leave the others, regarding them as inept and deciding to simply loot the next household he finds further out of Grimaldi then leave the county altogether.

The necromancers are all around and he wished only to escape the county as soon as possible.
Several more minutes passed between grunts and shivering as the band tries to untie themselves, then Doma struck home on one of the knots, Ducont quickly frees his wrists and proceeds to undo the ropes on his ankles.

Doma watches him all this while waiting impatiently," quickly, me now!" The big man urges.
Ducont gets on his feet and brushes his breeches cursing under his breath, took a moment to regard the rest of the band, pick up his sword and walked of nonchalantly ignoring the pleas of Doma and the stares of Davy. Going at a fair pace he left the band of men behind him quickly and was soon miles away.

Walking along the road, Ducont spots a lone figure dragging his feet several yards away, figuring he might have found someone injured and vulnerable, Ducont hushed his footsteps and approached silently.

As the person is dragging one foot, obviously twisted in an awkward angle, he didn't really move fast enough and Ducont caught up to him fairly quickly.

As Ducont nears his next potential victim he cleans his face with his palms a little, then straightens himself as he jumps into the road behind the shambling figure.

"Greeting traveler, how would it be that you walk these roads alone at such a late hour?"

Ducont calls out, he was just a few feet away and though his flashy appearance would unnerve the traveler and make it easier for him to persuade this traveler to make a "donation" for Ducont's next meal.

The traveler didn't seem to register at 1st, but slowly and surly turned about, silently regarding the source of the commotion.

Ducont thinking he had the upper hand took a step forward and slowly drew his weapon, all the while spewing mock pleasantries. The sky was cloudy and very little light made it through, but as it was a night of the full moon, bits of moonlight escapes the folds of the clouds and Ducont can roughly make out this traveler's build being thin, a metallic glint from his neck appears to be some sort of jewelry.
Seeing his target having next to no reaction, apart from seemingly breathing heavily, Ducont thought he struck a nerve and got even closer, standing just an arm's distance away from his wayfarer, sword at his side.

"Now if you may my good man, part with your riches so I may show you to safety" Ducont declares aloud.

When the figure only lunges at Ducont, the thug skewers the traveler with his blade.
To Ducont's delight the clouds started to part and the bright moon illuminated his immediate surroundings. There he took a good look at his victim, the skewered traveler.

As Ducont tries to make out just how dirty this man was he sprang back to life!

The man Ducont thought to rob is in reality, a zombie. Ducont recoils in fear as the abysmal creature tries to bite him, reacting just fast enough to retract his blade and kick it back, freeing his sword in the process.

With the advantage of being armed and being faster, Ducont quickly dispatched the zombie by decapitating it and hacking wildly at its torso and limbs till it stops moving.

Out of breath and exhausted from the encounter Ducont drops onto his behind heavily on the road, trying to recover.

It didn't take long for Ducont to realize what a big mistake it was for him to even try to destroy the zombie, much less even stay near it as soon as he dropped the undead.

A severed hand attached itself on his ankle and no later as he fought it off, more zombies found him, catching him by surprise and proceeded to feast on a screaming Ducont.

...often zombie will appeared slow and weak, only to leap off with lightning paces towards its u suspected victims, often in packs well hidden. For a creature perceived as dumb, they seemed to project an effective survival tactics.

Keith the elder pondered as he drafted his latest entry. Eye witness account of these creatures of the dark are often unreliable. The few that lived to tell often exaggerated their tales, and mixes with part imagination, part reality. More so the former, the wise elder reckoned.

His young apprentice waited upon his master till the aged scholar fell asleep, as always, before putting a blanket over him, and blowing the candles. A task seemingly unnecessary as sun will break in less than half a candlelight time, over the tinted glass windows of a neatly kept cottage of Dedenshire.
Keith came from a long line of bookkeepers, recording history, both of men and god, as well as details of vile creatures. As lore foretold of great hardship and the rise of unholy forces, and the belief of inevitable Armageddon. The day when hell will break lose and nefarious creatures will rise and threaten all that is good.

The moon shone brightly in the clear sky, all traces of the fierce rainstorm was gone except the dampness of the grass.

Duran dug a shallow pit and filled it with what dry material he could find, kindling of assorted origins, birch bark and twigs. Dead wood sheltered under a rock formation provided the fuel for their fire and the rubble was gathered as Duran forms a ring with the small rocks around their campfire.

Elissa watched him silently as she marveled the efficacy of the veteran, Duran had next to no trouble setting up a campfire just after a severe rainstorm where hardly anywhere is dry.
Her hands propped under her chin as her gaze gets lost in the fire, memories of her family surging forth with the bitter realization of their demise.

"Elissa."

Duran calls out to her, noticing that she is slipping into her painful recollection of her recent loss.
"Elissa, come help me with this fish"

Offering a distraction, Duran beckons for the lass as she came out of her trance.

As Duran finish setting the fire, he looks over his shoulder and silently observes Elissa skewering the fish after seasoning them with herbs they found on the way to their campsite.

She did so efficiently poking through the fish head 1st then weaving the fish fluidly as she pushes the stick through the fish through head to tail.

The evening passed by with little exchange between the two, as the night settles in, sounds of insects and the crackling of their fire filled in the otherwise void of silence between the two.

"Why did you choose to save me?"

Elissa breaks the ice,"you could just have them guide you to the woods."
Duran eyed her once as he took a mouthful of his dinner, lowers his fish and nodding, much to himself, answers slowly. "When I saw you all trussed up like a sack of potatoes, I though it would be quite a chore dragging these potatoes, better if the sack had legs to walk itself along side!"

"How dare you refer me to mere potatoes!"Elissa answers in mock anger, a beautiful smile broke through her previously serious facade. Grinning Duran jested "potatoes make fair a meal too!"
"Oh you better enjoy your dinner, it's prepared by yours truly, princess potato!" Elissa retorts, her mood no longer glum as before. The two pokes fun at each another as the campfire danced and cracked into the night air.

Amidst the laughter, Duran suddenly fell silent, the sound of insects died and Elissa caught on.
Silently Duran unsheathed his weapon, he paused for a moment regarding Elissa, then handed her his spare weapon.

Elissa took the short sword with both her hands, brushing her delicate hands over the intricate carvings of its blade and handle as she too unsheathes the short sword, taking the moment to admire the adorned weapon.

Duran picked up a makeshift torch from the campfire and tossed it in the general direction where he sensed something a momentary glimpse was all Duran needed.. Sure enough the warrior's keen eyes spotted several figures previously shrouded by an unnatural darkness. A fair breeze brought forth the stench of decay, the smell of death faint.

"Zombies!" Duran immediately knew.

Several zombies probably sensing the life force of the two, came forth.

Or so Duran thought till a familiar voice screeched through the unnerving silence

"Hanson! Brother! Is that you?! Have you finally come back home?!"

The cloaked man spoke in clear shrill tones, the clouds parted with a strong gust of wind, revealing the horde of undead as zombies surged around him.

"What in the name of gods are those?" Elissa shot a look at Duran, Duran's visage became deadly grim and he stayed silent.

Accounting for all the zombies, Duran decided he would try to extract some answers from the cloaked man.

"I trust you know how to use that." Duran asked, not for a moment taking his eyes off the zombie horde.

"I see my brothers sword play before" Elissa answered softly.

Noting the monsters are all clustered together Duran took a stance for just a brief moment before bursting into a blur, moving so fast that neither the man nor the zombies could react.

Within seconds Duran was at the horde, his unnatural speed covering the twenty or so yards in a blink of an eye.

Just as fast as he had ran to the zombies, Duran cuts down a score of the zombies.
Holding his blade to his side, Duran approaches the cloaked man at a steady pace, now merely paces away from him.

"Whom do you serve and who is Hanson to you?"

Duran asks in a loud voice, blade singing through the air as he cut down zombies in his way.

The cloak man seemingly oblivious of his fallen zombies around him.

Doubling forth Duran came within an arm's length of the cloaked man and threw the man's hood back.

As if mortally wounded, Duran fell back a couple of steps. His fears were confirmed, it was none other then Timo, his little brother.

Timo looked like the zombies around him with sunken cheeks and dark rings around his eyes. Skin pale and hair wild. Only his bloodshot eyes showing what little humanity he possesses.

"Who are you?"Timo inquires, not the least disturbed by Duran's display of unnatural speed.

Duran really wanted to answer him, but given his grim revelation and lacking of any sense of mortality he merely answered curtly, "a warrior disgraced and discarded by his employer" hoping to probe more information from Timo, Duran pressed on with the conversation."what might your business be here, why do you linger with the likes of such evil company?!"

As if hardly registering Duran, Timo swung his head left to right, high and low in search of something, someone, all the while calling out for Hanson.

Supposed he realized the futility of his trip here, Timo turns away muttering to himself"where are you Hanson, Thomas told me you should be around here...Thomas wouldn't lie..."

"Wait! You haven't answered my question!" Duran reached forward to grab Timo's shoulder, only to swing his arm into mist, as if Timo had dematerialized, his shadowy figure dissolves into the darkness.

A shriek in a distance warned Duran of the gravity of the situation and Duran returns to Elissa's side just as he had sped off just moments ago.
Swiftly dispatching the zombies that approached their campsite, Duran went on at a steady pace to destroy the remaining zombies in the vicinity.

A million questions popped up in each of the adventurer's minds but as the events had unfolded so quickly, neither of them knew what to say of it. As the exhaustion of the series of events kicked in, the pair settled uneasily into restless slumber.