The Dead and the Living

The Lesser Dead in all their varieties watched as the swordmaiden passed, followed a moment later by the holy man, now made impotent by their master. They allowed both to escape unscathed. Indeed many still held the swordmaiden in fear, for the way she had cut a swath through their numbers as she entered the village had been pure fury and judgement and death -- or rather banishment back to the depths of Ashmar. None were eager to face that storm again.

Others understood that the master had gravely injured the swordmaiden, eliminating her as a threat, at least for the time being. But the master had made it clear they were not to interfere in this matter, even as eager as they were to tear this insolent mortal limb from limb. They watched with eyes full of anger and hatred, but they stood aside and let the mortals pass.

And once they were gone, they received their next set of instructions.

It is time to move on, my brethren, came the voice of Malylech. Leave this graveyard, find shelter for dawn is nigh.