For some reason the undead were concentrating their attacks on Carolan, trying to drag the half elf down into their cold grave.

“Lend me your aid!" the half-elf yelled to his comrades. Though he dodged left and right with phenomenal agility, he still suffered many severe blows, and his padded surcoat hung in tatters.

Then he heard Arbosh roar triumphantly. The dwarf took another long draft from his beer stein.

“By my forefathers," Arbosh said, “now I am ready!" He swung his morningstar upwards with great force, and the weapon's three ...

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