Ace uses his gem glasses, and casts suggestion.

"Why don't you go away, and never hurt anyone ever again. The holy man will kill you otherwise."

In the same way that Tor has felt his axe passing through the thing without gaining purchase, Ace feels his spell flow through the undead creature without taking purchase. It growls in hate at him, and in an ethereal voice speaks, "Your stolen spells cannot effect me, mortal!"

Finally hit by the wraith!  Sigi's CON save: 6

The wraith finally lands a blow past Brother Siegfried's shining mithril chain, and the cleric can feel the evil tug as the entity drains a bit of his life's energy.  But he smiles through gritted teeth, for he sees the tide has turned in their favor and the wraith stands alone... More, his guiding bolt struck home, and the next attack against the wraith would have the benefit of divine guidance (advantage on the next attack by anyone).

Tyrel's turn, then the wraith, assuming our erstwhile blacksmith doesn't kill it.

Tyrel snaps his fingers and a film of frost appears crawling up the wraith's form (frostbite ).

Wraith Con Save: 7 vs 15 or 5 frost damage and disadvantage on next weapon attack

Like its fellow wraith, this one screams a hate filled ethereal cry as it is pulled into some other realm.

And all goes quiet.

As if his body was holding it all in until the threat had passed, Oloven immediately starts coughing and wheezing the moment the final wraith is gone. It's as if that attack from a moment before had sucked all the moisture out of his body. He sinks to his knees and chokes out "Somebody be a pal... Get me some water?" 

Brother Sigi kisses his amulet and breathes a quiet prayer.  Then he nods in affirmation to Tor and Ace "Good work, lads," before hustling to check on Tyrel and Oloven.  He pats Oloven on the waist.  "Nothing a good night's rest won't fix... those unholy terrors can wreak havoc on a body, but their touch is fleeting.  Come the morning, it will be as though this never happened," he says, doing his best to sound reassuring.

Then he turns his attention to the sealed tavern.  "Hello!" he shouts.  "Is anyone inside?  We have sent the undead scourge back to the shadow.  I am a healer... if you have wounded, please let me see to them!"

As Tor desperately swipes at the being, his sword passing through it like mist, a frost grows over it until it seems like it has been carved from ice. It screams a horrific, soul-rending scream and fades away, leaving the frost to crumble into a tiny pile of snow on the ground.

His view now clear, Tor can see past Sigi to where Tyrel stands hand outstretched, huge glowing wings extended from his back. 

"What the..." This requires an explanation. But not right now. First they had to get into the tavern. He waits to see what response Brother Siegfried gets.

The stable doors open and a large, heavily muscled woman steps out dressed in a stained blacksmith's leather apron, a hammer in each hand. 

A few moments later, the inner door starts to open and catches on the corpses stuck in the entry way, a tall, wiry man leans his body half out of the door. His face is scarred, and his smile is crooked but friendly.

Both of them look hesitant to leave the relative safety of the inn. They glance at each other as though just saying the other and nod before turning to you. The man says, "I'm Backes, I run the bar here at the Wayside Inn. I'm sorry we couldn't welcome you under more pleasant circumstances. But we are glad you came. That was amazing!" He gestures to the woman, "this is our Smith, Teega," and she nods to the party. "If you need any horses shooed or armor fixed, she's the best smith in 20 miles." He leans in conspiratorially and in a loud stage whisper says, "She's also the only Smith in 20 miles."

He speaks as though giving a well-rehearsed welcome spiel. He trails off looking down at what are simply chopped up corpses, now that whatever evil animated the zombies is gone.

Now that they're not trying to kill you, those who look can see that the bodies are relatively fresh with very little decay, and are dressed in simple commoner's clothing. Those who look closely can see that there's a symbol  branded into their foreheads. Brother Siegfried and Oloven, with their history in the church recognize the symbol. Everyone else who wants to know can make a DC 15 religion check to know:

Religion: 12

After a few moments Oloven manages to clear his throat and stand with the help of Siegfried. He waves to Nikita and shouts "All clear, Nikita! You can head on over!" 

That done, he turns to the denizens of the inn and says seriously "Good evenin', folks. Glad y'all are alright in there. Would ya mind enlightenin' us as to what's goin' on here? What's a necromancer of Myrkul want with a lovely roadside establishment like this?" 

Without asking permission of Backes or Teega, Tor picks up one of the bodies and puts it on his shoulder. He will carry it into the stable and put it in any empty stall, unless stopped. He will keep doing this until all the bodies are in the stable. He won't ask for help, but he won't turn it away if someone else joins him.

"Is it just the two of you here?  Are you hurt?"

If no one needs healing, Sigi will walk briskly back down the road to where Nikita, Barley, and the cart were left.  He will escort them all into the stables of the inn.

Back at the Wayside Inn, he will finally pause to introduce himself.  "We are settlers, headed for Leilon.  Its been quite an eventful trip thus far, and I hope this last battle was the crescendo and that the roads south will be less chaotic.  I am Brother Siegfried Brown, cleric and devotee of Lady Chauntea.  So pleased to make your acquaintance.  What do we have on tap?" 

Nikita brings Daisy over to the stables, as Tor is bringing the first body in. Daisy balks, and the rest of the horses in the stable also seem to react to the body.

"Oi!" calls Teega, "Let's bury those... Or burn them. I, for one, know that I won't be able to sleep knowing those things are just lying here, and it seems they're bugging the horses." She grabs one of the corpses and shoulders it without difficulty and takes it a few dozen yards away from the inn, to a large, shallow stone-lined pit, darkened by innumerous fires. "This is where we burn any trash, this oughta' work for these poor sods." She tosses the body in with a wet, squelching sound.

Meanwhile, a beautiful half-elf woman comes out of the inn. She grimaces at the broken front door and the damage the zombies have wrought, but hides it quickly and approaches whoever is closest by, "Thank you for your aid, travelers. It was most convenient you came when you did. I am Martisha Vinetalker, I own the Wayside Inn. When you are settled, please come in, food is on the house."

Tor shrugs. "I thought they might be local, and any family might want them back. But it's your place, your call." He shifts his efforts to dumping the bodies into the pit, following Teega's example. 

When the work is finished he will enter the tavern and sit down with the others.

Quote from Bartjeebus >>

"Is it just the two of you here?  Are you hurt?"

If no one needs healing, Sigi will walk briskly back down the road to where Nikita, Barley, and the cart were left.  He will escort them all into the stables of the inn.

Back at the Wayside Inn, he will finally pause to introduce himself.  "We are settlers, headed for Leilon.  Its been quite an eventful trip thus far, and I hope this last battle was the crescendo and that the roads south will be less chaotic.  I am Brother Siegfried Brown, cleric and devotee of Lady Chauntea.  So pleased to make your acquaintance.  What do we have on tap?" 

 (Sorry, I must've been typing my post when you were doing yours)
Backes joins Martisha outside. He is wiry, and though there's evidence of a one fine physique, he is past his prime. His face is scarred, and his smile crooked, but he seems genial and almost jolly at times. 

"No, friend, there are a few of us here. Obviously this here's Ms. Vinetalker, the owner. There's also our cook, Cooragh. She knows her spices that one. Could make a stew that would melt your insides, but so tasty you'd thank her for it. You met Teega, her Smithy's in the back of the courtyard, next to the stable. She's a good sort, long as you don't mind the constant pounding on metal. And we have a few patrons tonight, who I'm sure'll be happy to meet your acquaintance. Including a bard who, surprisingly, is quite talented."

Teega shrugs dispassionately, unbothered by the dead bodies. "May have been. But I'm sure any family'll understand. If not, then that's on them. I'm not willing to risk me life on account of their feelings." She says to Tor.

Tor grunts in agreement. "Sure." He hefts another body onto his shoulder. "Which way did these things come from? Leilon? Or Phandalin?"