the pony's shoulders and head, to the tether, which she quickly undid.
"Go! Go!" she cried to Diredusk, and the pony, bucking and leaping, dragging two zombies with it, charged off into the forest night.
Tears streaked Brynn's face, and she was glad, at least, that Diredusk had a chance to get away. For herself, though, there seemed no such escape, walls of zombies were coming at her from every direction.
She growled away her fears and charged the nearest group, staff stabbing and swinging might-ily, scoring splattering hit after splattering hit. Twisting and dodging, Brynn somehow got through that line and seemed for a moment to be running free.
But more zombies moved before her, and one of those behind, toppled by her burst of speed, grabbed on to her ankle with a grip inhumanly strong.
Brynn wailed and stumbled, stopped in her tracks, but managing, at least, not to fall over. She spun back on the grabbing zombie and punished it with a series of smacks all about its head, frantically bashing and bashing.
Others closed all about her.
The zombie on the ground lay very still, seemingly back in the realm of death where it belonged, but still it held on stubbornly, its fingers locked about Brynn's slender ankle. She kicked and twisted, stomping the wrist with her free foot.
But then she had to alter her attacks, as the other zombies descended over her.
In the boughs before the zombies ever entered the encampment, mar Turaviel put his bow to work, the string humming as the elf hed arrow after arrow into the circling mob of intruders. Unlike i Turaviel had understood the nature of this perversion, the undead of the intruders, right away, and so he did not hesitate at all, just set his Bull, but normally effective, bow to its work.
He had half emptied his quiver before he even realized that the arrows were having absolutely no effect.
With a groan of frustration, Juraviel leaped and fluttered down to a lower branch, just above the heads of the zombies. Intent on Brynn and on Dire-dusk the horrid creatures seemed not to notice him, and so the elf waited and quietly moved from limb to limb until he came to one creature rela-tively isolated from its undead companions.
Down slashed the small sword, cutting a deep gash in the zombie's head.
The zombie stopped and looked around stupidly.
Juraviel slashed it again, and then a third time, in the face, as it at last looked up.
Showing no pain, the zombie reached stiff arms up for the nimble elf. Ju-raviel wasted no time in slashing one hand, then the other, taking off a cou-ple of fingers. Greenish pus flowed from the stumps, and Juraviel could smell the disease. He backed off a few skittering steps and, apparently real-izing that it could not reach him, the zombie clamped both arms about the branch and began pulling itself into the tree.
Juraviel saw his opening and didn't hesitate, leaping right to the spot on the branch between the zombie's arms, taking up his sword in both hands and slashing it down with all his might, cleaving the zombie's head right down the middle. He retracted the blade immediately, brought it back around to his left, then in a circular motion up over his head and back down to the right, driving it in hard against the side of the zombie's head, creasing all the way to the gash of the great downward cut.
A huge piece of head fell away, but the zombie kept pulling itself up.
Eyes wide with disbelief, Juraviel transferred his horror into power and slashed away with abandon.
The zombie slowly turned and looped one leg over the branch, and Ju-raviel promptly slashed and slashed at that limb until it, too, fell free of the body. Down tumbled the undead monster, holding on with just one hand.
Juraviel cut that hand away.
-The creature fell to the ground and tried to rise, but just fell over again and again.
Watching it struggling, but not lying still, Juraviel knew that this fight ould not be won. The creatures were not difficult enemies, one at a time, out the sheer amount of punishment they could take ensured that no fight against the mob would be one against one for any amount of time.
We must flee!" Juraviel called out to Brynn, as he ran along the branches, trying to find his companion.
Diredusk's frenzy cued him in, and he ran toward it until horse and woman were in sight.
Brynn's work was nothing short of magnificent, a tribute to