Chapter 1: Flamefade

Staggering inside, Gaelan is shocked by what he and Ophira find. Blood splatters on the floor beneath him the moment he comes to a stop, but the man draws a ragged breath and tries to steel his will to act in the face of such horror...

Observing the scene, Lirann is overcome with a mixture of dread and frustration. She looks around the woods, searching for the source of that unpleasant feeling. Over and over again she ends up fixating on the hut. Using up her last bit of patience, she waits for the shambling undead to move away.

Lirann rushes towards the hut as soon as the path is cleared. She bursts inside, almost bumping in to Gaelan in the process. She quickly glances around the hut, but can't exactly process everything going on in there as fast as she would have liked.

"What in the world is happening in here?" She barks, first at no one in particular, then she repeats the question. This time directed at Ophira and in a softer tone. "What is happening in here?"

Beric doesn't want to leave Thalen and Thea to handle the walking corpses on their own. Although Thalen seems to be doing fine, one trip on a root could change that in an instant. He hopes Ophira, Gaelan, and Lirann can handle whatever is in the hut.

Beric continues to follow the deadbthimgs from a distance and pelt them with stones.

Outside, Beric's steady barrage begins to wear down Thalen and Thea's pursuers. Though the undead show no sense of pain, their bodies have deteriorated so much that even the humble rocks of his sling can tear through them. The one crawling through the muck is struck once more, and ceases to move.Inside the hut, Ophira sweeps her gaze over the half-finished ritual circle and realizes she has seen it once before. On a chilly spring morning two years past, the scent of pine needles and the chirping of blackbirds finding their way in through the shuttered windows. That time, it was all far more elaborate, and Anathema labored for hours getting every last detail of it just right. Compared to that time, this crude and hastily-drawn circle looks like a child's drawing. But the symbols and their placement match with Ophira's memory.

You have grown so much, Ophira. One day, I will have nothing more to teach you. But if you are to tend to the people of this hamlet, like I have, it's important that you never forget what life looks like, through their eyes.

Those were Ana's words that day. And the ritual did just what she has claimed. For a full day afterwards, both Ophira and Ana walked as regular villagers, numb and insensate to the magical energies and spirits all around them. The ritual dispelled all magic nearby, sundered enchantments, rendered objects of power mere household objects.

And drove off magical beings. Ana's intentions suddenly become quiet clear to her apprentice.

As Lirann charges in and Ophira turns her head, a glimmer in the corner catches her eye. Her teacher's silver athame, refusing to reflect the sickly green light of the spirits overhead, instead gleams with the faint moonlight.

Gaelan's eyes are drawn elsewhere. Taking his eyes of the struggling witch held aloft before them, his gaze falls on the broken chair. Among the torn pillows, he sees the leathery binding of a large tome. While he is not nearly as familiar with the contents of the hut as Ophira might be, that one book is easily recognizable. Anathema's grimoire.

Thalen breathes in deeply as he switches up his song to a mournful ballad. He continues to walk backwards and lead the undead so his companions can kill them while they are distracted.

Ophira darts for the athame and falls to the ground next to the ritual circle, where she attempts to complete the anti-magic circle!

Bleeding badly, Gaelan looks from Lirann to Anathema and then Ophira, who suddenly falls to her knees.

"What should we do?!" he asks the pair, hefting his axe, preparing to strike at the wretched creature sucking the life from the old witch. He's not sure if he should simply grab Ophira's mentor and pull her back, or focus or the thing attacking her... but he can tell there's no time to spare.

Moving forward, he swings the wood axe mightily!

Lirann glances at the spirits in the hut, frowning. She slams the floor with her staff, creating a loud thud.

"All of you! Hear me and obey!" She cries out to them. "Leave now!" She commands, pointing her staff at the door.

Beric continues to sling stones at the dead, hoping the others in the hut are doing ok without them.

Thalen, getting overconfident in his ability to walk backward, trips over an exposed root and falls backward onto his rear. His colorful cloak fans out around him. He lets out a groan, and his harmonica falls from his hands.

Ophira tries to carve the remaining turns from memory. Their complexity and the tears now forming in her eyes, plus her still bleeding wound, make this extra difficult and upsetting for her. Still, she tries.

Inside the Hut

Lirann's command echoes throughout the small hut, but the spirits respond only with... cruel laughter? Howling? It's hard to tell. But there's a note of something else beneath it, a deep pain and fury, and a rattling of chains as they circle above.

Gaelan's axe finds the spectral woman's neck. On any mortal, such a blow would have cut the head clean off. But his axe passes through it like mist. It does cause the ghost to react, dropping Ana and gripping her own neck in reflexive defense. The witch falls to the ground with a loud thud in front of Gaelan. Ana makes a rasping sound as she draws in breath, her neck darkly scorched as if by an invisble flame. She remains lying on the ground, her eyes clouded with pain.

Tracing out the lines in her mind, Ophira draws out the final sigil. Though hurried and crude, the circle matches the one in her memory.

The effect is instant. The air trembles around them, as if in anticipation. Then the force of the ritual bursts outward. The formless spirits above scatter, their voices turning to panic. The tattered form of the ghost-woman frays and disintegrates as she is repelled upwards, through the roof and out of sight.

Silence falls in the hut, broken only by the strained breathing of Anathema. To Lirann and Ophira, it is particularly quiet, as their supernatural senses grow numb.In the WoodsAs Thalen lands in the muck, he sees Beric's last rock sail overhead. Before he can get to his feet, the undead are upon him. Thea charges into one with her shield, swipes in wide strikes with her axe at two others. But the fourth gets through and slashes at Thalen with a rotting hand.

Raising its gnarled hand to strike again... it suddenly stops mid-motion. The light in its eyes dim, and it looks away, confused and listless. Both Beric and Thalen watch as they begin to wander aimlessly through the woods in separate directions, showing no sign of aggression or even interest in the three young heroes. Whatever force has been driving them onwards, its control seems to have been severed.

Ophira breathes a sigh of relief and runs to Ana's side to see if she is OK.

As Ophira checks on the witch, Lirann turns towards the door, keeping watch for any more enemies. At least that is what she tells herself. She really just does not want to deal with Ana.

Beric runs over to check on Thalen,
keeping an eye on the dead things in case they change their minds about wandering off. "You suppose we should finish puttting those things down?" He asks. He'd prefer to let them be and run back to the hut to check on Ana, but he'd hate for one of those things to hurt someone else.

It's over suddenly, and Gaelan is left panting, wounded with his axe at the ready. He stands tall near the three women, ready to defend them should anything else merge from the shadows.

"Is she... alive?" he asks Ophira.

Thalen lifts a tentative finger to his cheek and neck. He winces and pulls breath in between gritted teeth. He smiles at Beric. "Don't suppose this will help my standing with the ladies any." He grabs Beric's hand as his friend raises him from the ground.

Thalen pulls his dagger from his cloak and nods at Berics question. "I agree. Can't have them wandering into the village and harming the younglings."