As dawn broke, the warriors of the Riptide Knights were still fighting across the land near Marlowe. Although all the gnoll warlocks had been wiped out, the battle was far from over.
The undead, having lost their masters, wandered through the ruins of the town. Any hint of the living sent them into a frenzy.
Worse still, after gathering into an army, the undead had begun marching aimlessly beyond the ruins of Marlowe. Perhaps the living in the nearest village were drawing them in. Whatever the reason, the battlefield beneath the sunlight had grown even more intense instead of calming down.
"Holy Light, grant me strength! Cleanse these unclean bones!"
Uncle Fording had been busy all night, yet he was still full of energy. The moment he saw another group of undead bones charge out of the ruins, he grabbed his warhammer and lunged forward with a roar.
Several Riptide Knights followed close behind. They charged in to fight the skeletons without fear and, minutes later, smashed them into a heap of bone fragments.
These skeleton soldiers, roused from their graves, were fragile.
As long as they could overcome their fear of the undead, even new recruits could easily defeat them. But the hard part of the battle wasn't dealing with these weaklings. It was taking on the elite skeleton army brought by the gnoll warlocks, which now occupied the ruins.
Those were not enemies anyone could take on casually.
But if they weren't dealt with and were left to wander the ruins, the underworld aura they carried would ensure that this land, already ravaged last night, would never know peace.
"This is practically the size of a five-player Heroic dungeon. If they add a little more to it, they could probably make it a ten-player raid."
Master of Arcane