A quarter mile from where Bründir's forces have made camp, Ix's scouts are watching the hunched, lumbering figures slowly make their way in the general direction of Sheercleft. Snow hangs heavy on the wind and visibility is low, but the silhouettes on the trail are easily spotted.  

Thurston imitates Aiden and dons his breastplate, take the helm and notices Brundir trying to strap his own armor. 

"Well, no good to go out there without being properly ready for a battle. Allow me, Lord Brundir, to help you. Aiden come here! " he calls "If we help each other we should be ready in time for greet our visitors..." 

Brundir hobbles about, holding still only long enough for a helpful pair of hands to tighten a strap here or there, but filling the room with angry grumbles for each moment he isn't working at his armour himself. In his groggy haste, he barely remembered to pass a hand over his face to ensure his dwarven-crafted prosthetic was present. After a few frantic minutes, he finally emerges from the tent. A moment's thought comes to mind of bringing Stonebrow, but the great boar was snoozing and unsaddled for the night. It would take as long to get him ready as it took the rider, so Brundir chose to hurry on foot. Among the encroaching canyon walls, it was easy to feel buried and isolated. The moonlight could be seen overhead, but stopped several dozen feet above where its angle could not reach the ground. Still, enough torches were being lit by now that he could make out the clear path to the front.

On his arrival, his breathing was labored, and he looked at his two taller allies wearing piecemeal armour. Brundir tried to assure himself that a general and lord must present an imposing figure, but he only felt overdressed for the matter. By now, a dozen soldiers had gathered as ordered, and far commotion indicated more were on the way. "A'right, on line, all o'ye! Spears front, shields up, arrows nocked. Scouts say somethin's not right with these. Don' give'em a second thought. Ye see steel from us, ye get in it an' get'em good!" As the soldiers shuffled quickly into position, Brundir looked around for his allies. They'd proven themselves, now it was his turn. When he'd accounted for each of them, he looked to the sword at his hip and pushed the guard to expose a few inches of the blade, "Le'me know if they ain't right, yeah?"

Matteo has little to do to get ready. His staff abandoned somewhere on the mountain and just a cudgel in his hand. He looks with disgust at the swords Jex had stolen, something in his mind though now demands he bring them. 

Moving unnaturally. If they are already dead, I can't kill them, whatever I use.

He looks at his friends, fastening armour and checking weapons. He can't leave them to face the threat alone. He follows them out silently to observe the approaching figures.

Brundir looks out into the dark night, closing his eyes to the blindness of the world and feeling the certainty of stone underfoot. Stepping to the formed guard lines, he looks across the ranks with a stern glare, "Don' let us out'a yer sight. Command stands: Follow only 'til ye see us, then stand yer ground. We'll call if we need ye, but we need ye ready t'send word back if things go t**s-up." Without further delay, the dwarf gives a glance back to the Acharnost, then steps out into the night, squinting into the darkness for these reported three figures. In the cold air, three metallic clangs ring across the peaks, and Karakarin springs to light before Brundir's chest, sending a cone of light forth.

Vark pulls his father’s cloak tighter around him and pushes on through the drifts of snow. As soon as they step out of camp, he focuses his senses to the arcane around them.

The moonlight casts an eerie glow upon the snow-covered mountainside as the three shadowy figures draw closer. Their gait is slow and unsteady and an otherworldly purple light emanates from their eyes as they approach, carrying a putrid odour with them on the wind.

Brundir stops short of the approaching trio; close enough to engage quickly, but far enough to react if attacked. "That's far enough! Yer way is closed. Sheercleft's people hold these cliffs, an' we don' suffer ye t'pass." Brundir pushes Dumdrengi's guard up from the neck of its scabbard, glancing down for the telltale blue glow, "Yer way is closed!" Brundir's final declaration reaches deep in his chest, as though proclaiming truth written in the stones around them.

Dumdrengi's steel remains dull and dormant, but the light from Bründir's shield reveals sickly pale skin mottled and marred by lesions, ulcers and blackened, writhing veins. The three figures have eyes clouded by a milky film and the stench of decay and corruption fills the air.

As the dwarf steps closer to the strange creatures the nearest of them extends an arm and a tentacle rushes out to wind itself around Bründir. Fortunately, karakaklad keeps the icy chill of its touch at bay.

"Witchcraft!!" exclaims Thurston as he moves toward's Brundir side and throws Rikkazarik towards the creature that had attacked his friend.

Vark’s face is awash in horror as he lays eyes on the three shambling figures. “That’s… that’s Curor, and R-riddel, his generals… he’s risen them but,” he squints harder, eyes glowing with his arcane senses. “Not necromancy, he’s… he’s conjured them somehow.” He begins to echo Matthew’s description of their foe: “From beyond the STARS!” his words elevate to a shout as one of the entities launches a writhing tentacle towards Bründir, wrapping around the dwarf. “AHHH!” he screams again, half terror and half rage, as he instinctively flings a fireball into their midst. The projectile explodes with crimson flame and the eldritch husks screech in defiance.

Aiden steps forward, and his senses pick up the unearthly smell of aberrant creatures. "They're aberrations!" he says, stepping forward and conjuring a clap of thunder directly between the three creatures.

Matteo had hung back as they approached, apprehensive of what he would do, and wrestling with Jex's voice as he once again demands control. But, as the light from Brundir and the flash of the fireball cast an eerie dim glow over the grisly corpses Matteo's eyes widen in recognition then fear and disgust. The circlet, that he had never even realised he still wore, responds to the emotions with a glowing warmth.

"No, I felt him kill you. I had to watch, trapped as he killed you. You shouldn't be here."

He takes three steps forwards and the circlet releases its energy in three long beams into Falkrin's possessed corpse. Inside Matteo's head, Jex laughs, and he is sure there is an echoing sound of applause from somewhere, but perhaps it is just a lingering echo of Aiden's spell reverberating around the mountains.

The three figures lurch towards the Acharnost and the being that was once Curor extends his hand towards them. The wizard's mouth drops open with a sickening lurch to reveal a gaping black void from which a bitter cold spews forth, engulfing the gathered heroes.

Behind Curor, the frosty air swirls around Riddel and spectral tentacles rear up from the ground around the former cleric.

Meanwhile, Faldric retaliates with a sickly yellow ray that streaks through the air towards Matteo, but the nimble half-elf is faster than the creature's aim.

Launching himself forward Thurston screams as he throws Rikkazarik towards the former wizard, trying to get him to release Brundir. The mighty hammer impact in the figure of the now aberrant wizard and returns towards his master's hand as the norscan falls to the ground, spins and throw the hammer again. Thunder resounds in the field as the weapon connect once more against the chest of the aberration. 

Valaith rushes into strange aura of slippery tentacles the surrounds the... whatever these things were. "Stay dead this time!" Rook rises and falls, staggering the unnatural abomination before her, but despite the grievous wounds left behind by her hammer, Curor's corpse remained. "I SAID DIE!" She brings Rook down upon it's body in a shower of gore and slimy, aberrant worms that quickly begin to swarm over Val. Despite her best efforts to kick them away, the vile things overtake her and she fights to keep them out of her ears, nose, and mouth! "What is this?! Get them off me!"

Everything seemed to fly by in an instant. A tentacle groping his breastplate, a sudden blast of icy cold, then the tentacle fell away. Brundir gritted his teeth against a stinging cold surrounding his eye that slipped through the visor of his helm, then rushed forward with Karakarin raised. The tentacled...thing crumbled under Val's hammer, and the dwarf could hear her yelling something, but he was already past her by that point and set on his target. Karakalad and Dumdrengi took on a new glow as he called to the steel around him, and Dumdrengi's blade held a new run resembling an anvil wreathed in silver flame.

In the final steps, Brundir could see his target in the light now shining bright from him. Worms began to seep from every possible orifice. You are one ugly mother-, Brundir's thoughts were interrupted by an otherworldly screech as the thing stepped towards him. In a flash, his blade swept out and down, cleaving across the being's midsection. A brilliant flash erupted a heartbeat later as Karakalad's enchantment released, searing the abomination's fleshy shell and forcing it to shield its eyes.

Vark winces as he and his compatriots are blasted with Curor’s frigid cold, suddenly feeling even more grateful that they had chosen to ambush the wizard before. Now once again Valaith dispatches the man with a mighty swing from Rook, but this time his corpse spews forth an aberrant payload: writhing viscous worms. These are the source of the generals’ animation, presumably conjured by Marcellus with the help of his alien patron. Now they wash over Val, attempting to squirm their way inside the hardy goliath. 

“Don’t worry! I got you!” he shouts, intending to make good on his assurance that he wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself again. He breathes in deeply, then exhales a primordial phrase that whips and billows into a torrent of gale-force wind. Sturdy as the mountains beneath them, Val stands strong against the gust, but her passengers are not so lucky. The worms are scoured from Val’s form, flitting off and skidding against the ice and snow. The reanimated Faldric is also caught in the air stream, and as Vark watches the husk slide away, he adds insult to injury with a volley of his own crimson eldritch blasts.

Aiden grimaces as the worms spill from Curor's body. "Thor's beard and Odin's eye," he utters into the frozen wind. Disgust churns his stomach at the sight, though he is somewhat relieved to see Vark using his storm magic to take care of the worms. Speaking of storms...

"Get ready for more worms!" Aiden shouts as he channels the power within him into a bolt of lightning that tears through the remaining two reanimated figures and the swarm of worms that had previously engulfed Valaith. The lightning tears the closer of the two in half, releasing another swarm of worms. "Disgusting."

Unsure of what to do, terrified of the strange creatures but also for his friends, Matteo tries to block out the voice in his head. He knows he has to help, but he can do this himself, without Jex. He skirts the side of the mountain, crouching low and disappearing amongst the rocks, even the most trained eye would not spot him to pick him apart from the rest of the mountainside.