[center][h1]Whitewater Gardens, Solitude[/h1][/center]

The path across the roofs was as difficult as Elly made it out to be, especially with wounded in tow. Trekking across the rooftops in this state was slow going, but it did allow the party to finally see the truth of Zeke's words: Walking cadavers, still clad in the clothes they'd perished in, shambled through the streets. 

By all appearances, it seemed that both direct line of sight and loud noises alerted the undead, who sped up to a lumbering jog whenever they were startled. Whatever they slew didn't rise again, and they fed upon dead flesh that wasn't their own, as if they knew that meat of their own kind wasn't good. Nevertheless, the sheer number of revenants roaming the streets suggested a near-total disaster for Solitude as a city. While it clearly wasn't every single soul that was turned, a generous estimate suggested that one in ten may have survived whatever it was that zombified the city to begin with. 

On the borderline that separated Whitewater Gardens from Renelle, the party and hangers-on came across their first hiccup: there was no viable way to cross districts without descending to street level. A major thoroughfare, wide enough for vehicles three lanes deep on both sides, separated them from Elly's home district. And it went without saying that the undead infested the crossing, shambling around and over wrecked automobiles. All in all, a small horde of nearly a hundred could be seen in the immediate vicinity. Once the party descended from the rooftops, they would have but moments before they would be swarmed.