The Heroes of Red Larch: Entry 32

These events take place before the Rise of the Obsidian Legion.

Lynch’s Journal
Entry #32

Leading the march of the undead to my allies, I run out of arrows just as I enter the room. The remaining severed hands leap at me, pulling on my armor, latching on my clothes. I hear the shouts of surprise and horror from Lithia and Prince Amon.

Balasar rushes to my aid, axe at the ready. All I can think about is how the massive weapon is going to be the end of me if he thinks about swings at the hands. Thanks the gods he see the zombies stumbling down the corridor. A low moan meets the copperborn as he charges into them.

The others join him. Saving her magics, Lithia swings around a walking stick she carries. Not even a novice with how to use a weapon she uses it as a club which proves to be effective. Still, Muun proves she needs to be trained how to use a proper weapon.

Amon Frost defends her with his shield. Pushing and bashing the zombies away, taking their sluggish blows to protect her. As I have said before, Amon, too, need to learn to use a proper weapon. Unlike our mage, he has a most useful sword on his hip.

Though not well trained or in sync, those three easily defeat the undead as I finish off the crawling hands. We may not be together as one fighting unit but maybe in time it will fall together. Against Novak and The Restless Hand it will most important.

After looking over the bodies we begin to head down the other corridor since knowing what awaits us in the other. As we enter something catches my eyes in the room, another cloaked figure. I quickly fling a throwing axe, placing it in its back. The laugh that follows sends chills down my spine. Fear paralyzes my body.

Novak.

Paying not attention to me nor the weapon lodged in him, he slowly walks toward the surgery room. He mocks me, assuring me that I will need all the fire inside me very soon.

After what seems like hours of standing there, the others come back for me. Noticing something is amiss, Lithia ask what is wrong. For all the effort it takes to move my muscles I manage to point to the other corridor, asking if they heard the laughter. Looking at me all confused, they heard nothing.

All I can say was his name.

Novak.

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