UFF

"Great!" said the lead minstrel. "I'll grab my stuff, then we can make our merry way down the high road, a-singing as we go with not a care in the world!"

As he said that, he picked up the bag that the bandits had been rifling through. He checked that nothing was missing, then slung it over his shoulder. The three moved to join the two mages.

"Figure we should introduce ourselves," he said. "I'm Billy the Singer, this 'ere's Robert the Lyrist, and fatso over there's Drummer. Ain't got another name that he's gonna tell us. And sorry to disappoint, lass, but we don't do magic. If'n we could, we wouldn' 'ave been caught, would we?"

Billy was tall and thin - almost painfully so. His hair was a thick, unruly blonde mess that had clearly not been cut for some time, as it stretched down to his shoulders. His skin was dark, suggesting south-eastern origins. Drummer was quite short and fat, his red hair and pale skin indicating that there was Redlander ancestry somewhere along the line. Robert [strike]was exactly like the other two[/strike] also tended towards the short, though not fat. Brown-haired and very dark-skinned, his overall appearance was fairly exotic - from Wynne, perhaps. Each was coated with the grime of the road, especially on their fronts (probably from the lying down).

The demon had managed to get its upper half out of the temple before it collapsed.

The Sentinel walked towards it. The beast twitched, only to stop when a gigantic bony fist crushed its skull, and tore out its heart.

"Now, Chebraghol, I believe we have some villagers to capture."

Chebraghol still had a broken arm and it was still agonizingly painful, it was only a few steps later that he discovered his left leg to share a similar condition.

Advice for necromantic henchmen, carry your own damn medicine, the army won't carry any.

The Sentinel grabbed an unfortunate skeleton and promptly crushed it before shoving it into its chest cavity.

The remainder of the army quickly moved forward to block the exit to the town and cut off any townspeople hoping to escape.

The Sentinel's victim reemerged as a massive bone forged crutch, which the Sentinel tossed towards Chebraghol before rushing forwards to lay waste to the village.

The journey ahead of them was long, but the lively tune made up for it. Ophelia wasn't very excited, though - not because of the song, but the thought of having to face danger wasn't very pleasing. Getting grinded by a sword, bitten by a dragon through the torso, losing your lower half, or even falling a long way was making her shiver in fear, at least on the inside. She looked happy, but she was definately not.

Eventually, Ophelia let out a yawn, but she immediately apologized - she said she was sleepy, from the fight she and Csiphe just had. Her blush was as red as a tomato.

It wasn't like any of them could tell that the landscape had changed; Frigus had a habit of appearing to have always been present, wherever he manifested himself. His current form was a strange blob of flesh, but despite his appearance, there were no scavengers nor flies to feast upon his body. He seemed to be still before slowly slithering towards the group, just out of sight, but just within human listening range. Frigus' body made a strange sliding sound, like a sword tip scratching ice.

Crutch? Chebraghol has never seen a demon walk with a crutch. The weak and the maimed had to support themselves, even if it meant crawling on all four broken and biting the enemy in the ankles.
Guess it would be less embaracing if he pretended it is a cane. Made of crushed bones of fallen enemies.
Sounds alright.

"Catch the lot lest it scrambles." the demon said. The villagers were certainly feisty at the sound of collapsing structure.

The ghost rushed towards the tunnel out of town. While it was incapable of touching them, the townspeople didn't know that, and stopped in their tracks. They turned the run when the furthest forward were pounded into the ground by a massive fist of molten bone.

More skeletons surrounded the remainder of the town, blocking them from escape. Any who attempted to fight back were quickly devoured by mighty flame.

"Tis' be all of them?" the demon eyed the frigthened crowd.

"They don't look much like crazed fanatics to me. This usually goes along with most worshippers of..." he ended rather abruptly.