Iris pouted, hearing what the paladin said. "I'm a bard, and you are the buffoon for insulting a bard for doing what a bard does. Any time is joke time," she glared at him.

A few moments later she noticed the horde of undead drawing from the forest and watched as her companions began to fight. She watched as Alarei was struck by an undead, and was about to cast a spell to heal him, but heard something rustle in the bushes behind her. Turning her head to look, but only giving it enough of a glance to see there wasn't an undead behind her, she turned back and tried to heal Alarei. Even though she wasn't encumbered by fear her spell was, for whatever reason, incredibly loud, producing a popping sound. Alarei was almost back to complete health, however, only a small portion of the wound remaining after the majority stitched itself back together.

"...That's never happened before," Iris said, the popping sound having startled her. Suddenly she noticed that the undead were looking at her more, all of their heads having perked up to look at the source of the popping. "Oh dear..."

The undead turned from Alarei, trying to move past him to get too Iris, Geckle noticed a robed figure in the treeline, prepping another ice-bolt to launch. If it managed to hit, it would do immense damage.

(Geckle: It's your turn, things happening around you, undead ignoring Alarei and Alexander, trying to reach Iris, who is behind you and the ranger. Zombies do 3d4 damage, and if you are unable / fail a roll to stop the Ice guy, she'll take 2d4 from the icebolt.)

From his sidelong view of the party, Geckle saw the misty glow of undead magic coalescing in the branches beyond. The aggressor was a hunched figure with little flesh left on its hooded skull. Repulsed by the monster and horrified by what it might do to his companions, the druid cried out and attempted to intervene. Taking two steps forward, he hurled his weapon with as much force as his shoulders could muster. The short spear pierced a nearly skeletal forearm and the spell dissipated between its hands, but the undead only snarled in rage and tore the weapon from its limb, the threat it posed not much diminished.

Geckle shuddered violently but raised his hardy wooden shield, knowing that he would need to retrieve the spear to be of any further use. Making himself small and trying to stay behind the human fighters while he could, Geckle scurried around the clashing blades and snatched his discarded weapon from the tangled roots. To his shock, the robed monster dropped from the tree, wielding what appeared to be a savagely curved sacrificial knife in its good hand, shrieking weirdly from a decayed throat. Fearing to turn his back on the creature, Geckle lunged outwards at the undead, the head of his spear tearing the black robe and striking a gash in the abomination's flesh, but the distance was too great for the weapon to pierce deeply. The dread figure jerked backwards before retaliating with the knife, but the druid's raised shield deflected the movement to one side. Geckle bounded back to the party in the moment of pause that followed, bracing himself against the next onslaught. This time, at least, he would have allies on both sides when the undead continued their attack.

The undead brought their blades down onto Leotamer, attacking with ferocity.

(Leo, you're being attacked by 3 guys, so if you fail roll 3d4+2

Remember, first roll 2d6+wis+2 then roll your dodge / block

Dodge with Dexterity, Block with Strength)

With amazing bravery caused by the encouragement of his god, Alexander blocked the incoming attacks on himself He then put away his holy symbol and lunged his halberd at one of the monsters. Realizing he was surrounded, he decided to make a less powerful attack, but still doing decent harm to the creature

Fire flew from the tree line behind the group, bright red flames striking the undead from behind, the big abominations melting and falling to the ground, their hideous screamings filling the wood. Drum beats were heard, and cries were yelled. The smoke was thicker then it ever had been and the trees seemed to move away shying from the presence of such exuberance. The fire seemed to crawl across the ground, small rabbits of smoke and tinder licking at the trees and soon the small path of the forest was a clearing.

The warmth of the flames filled the heroes, the flames created a circle, and soon there was what looked like a cross between an angel and a man. It didn't speak, and just floated there with it's wings lightly carrying it in the air, flapping gently.