Astrid paused for another moment, running a finger over the symbol once more, her brow furrowed in thought. As Diarah spoke the Hyldnir sent her a quick, speculative glance before rising back to her full height, her face settling back into the expression of intense concentration.<br/><br/><span style="color: deepskyblue">"You're right. Whoever these men are, their deaths are not our business. We must press on."</span><br/><br/>Taking the lead once more the huntress strode past the symbol without hesitation. Almost immidiatly it became obvious that that had been a mistake. The red glow of the glyph pulsed with an angry flare, like stoked embers in a forge, as a release of power surged through the room, like an agonized scream at the edge of perception. Twisting and coursing along the walls and floor the energy washed over the party in a wave, sending red lights flashing before their eyes and their skin ashiver with the cold pin-prick of a thousand knife-tips. Then, as suddenly as it had erupted, the surge of murderous energy faded, leaving gleaming red trails of fresh blood painted across the walls in haphazard patterns, like crimson lightning frozen in the ice. Then, with a rattle of chainmail and wargear the first corpse jumped to its feet.<br/><br/>One by one the corpses rose to their feet, silent but for the rustle of chain mail and the rattle of weapons in their holsters. A dull, gleaming red light began to glow behind their eyes, fresh blood seeping slowly from the cuts and punctures in their bodies, quickly revealing that none of them had died from these minor injuries. A single, paper-thin line across each fallen warrior's throat began to weep a steady flow of red vitae, the air filling rapidly with the scent of freshly spilt blood. Yet, these were no ordinary undead, no mere shambling horrors of the lich king, clumsily animated and controlled by a mighty will from afar. Each corpse moved with an unholy vigour, with the fluid grace and poise of a trained killer as they drew their weapons and advanced on the party.<br/><br/>While most of the party had clustered around the symbol, Agatha and Kaiya were now each isolated amongst the advancing revenants. Two of the undead warriors turned their attention to each of them, the remaining six charging at the rest of the party, short swords and daggers held ready to strike as they moved in with unnerving speed. They had not closed half the distance however before a javelin the size of a spear, thrown with enough force to pierce dragon hide,  punched into the chest of the foremost warrior, lifting the undead creature off its feet and sending it tumbling backwards sprawling. Screaming a Vrykul battlecry Astrid drew another missile from her quiver and took aim, gesturing for her companions to join the battle.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>