Stiffness found her first, before vision returned to her or noises came distinctly.  Within the confines of her armor and the light garb beneath, a bitter chill troubled her, though if she had chosen to rest in the open she would have instead been cooked inside her armor, providing some stray killer didn’t find her first.  With bones aching in protest and muscles only a little less fatigued after a short sleep, the good sister roused herself from the little treeclump hollow where she found refuge.  As much as she despised sleeping in armor, and as much as she longed for the sublime comforts of her far-off convent, Delphine seldom took it off.  In this foreign land what security she could find came few and far between, so she held what she could close, in the hopes of staving off an accursed death.  Brushing aside a pile of leaves, she recovered her hidden greatneedle and little shield, and just as she had done every day she slung the former onto her shoulder and the latter onto her left arm.  When she closed her eyes in those woody confines, the dusky halflight that passed for day shone from above, and now darkness had yet to fully fall—she could not have been out for long.  Still, judging by the sound a storm was soon to roll in.  Delphine paused to take off her glasses and rub the frustrating grogginess from her eyes, replaced them, and took a step forward.

Through the spindly, grasping branches of the forest crashed an enormous bird, though second glance confirmed it to be anything but natural.  Its head seemed to be a carnivorous contortion of bone, spiky and intimidating, and other plates and spikes adorned its being; it was a carrion bird in more than name.  The undead vulture let loose a piercing shriek and extended its neck to snap closed an ivory-white beak on Delphine’s skull.  Still not entirely lucid, she cried out as she swung wildly with her greatneedle, and the long, thin blade cleanly cleaved off a third of the monstrosity’s head.  It recoiled, remarkably unperturbed by the grievous wound, but took off to find easier prey elsewhere.  

Heart beating like a frenzied drum, Delphine rushed through the deadwood away from the place of the encounter.  She ran until her breath grew short, and she drew to the edge of a little cliff.  At its bottom lay an expanse of grass littered with rocks, many stacked into crude cairns, pillars, or arches by people long ago.  Delphine thought the more open area a drastic improvement to the claustrophobic, shadowy forest if she was to be traveling, and set to gauging the distance for a drop.  As she did so, she did not think twice about a vague shadow passing overhead, and only realized its import when the huge buzzard bulled into her from behind, sending her flying off the cliff in a tangle.

In the air, her screaming flew wasted into the wind, but her battle instincts fired up.  As the creature struggled to free itself from the human that gripped it, Delphine maneuvered herself on top and, holding her weapon by the blade, poked it into the feathers that hung like rotting leaves on the bird’s breast.  When they hit the ground, the force propelled the sword through the monster and into the earth, as well as sending Delphine rolling on the ground like a sack of bricks.  When her senses came flooding back a moment later, a wave of pain came with them, telling her that several of her bones had been broken.  Drops of rain washed the dirt and blood from her face where a chip of stone had cut a stinging gash.  Feebly she reached for her belt to pull out a talisman.  Her recitation of the Great Heal suffered several interruptions by way of bloody cough, but the light shined upon her nonetheless, and after a moment she was able to stand with bones renewed.  Still aching and distraught, Delphine pulled her sword from the dead bird and cleaned its blade as she walked.  It took only a few minutes to traverse the field of artifice, and no enemies appeared on the way.  Moving down a little path between some boulders, she spotted an orange glow in the distance that restored a small light in her eyes.  Delphine moved quickly toward the bonfire, finding the terrain perfectly manageable, and slid down a short, dusty incline only to find the bonfire occupied by three others.  Her hopeful energy died instantly, and her clutch on the greatneedle tightened, but beyond reason she dared to believe that these undead would not strike her down in her weakened state where she stood.  Would her tale end here, after all?