The corpse twists and lashes out wildly at Valaith, slamming into her.

Valaith takes 4 bludgeoning damage -> 31/35 Vigour

Make a con save for Valaith please.

The putrid stench of decaying flesh clouds Valaith's senses.

Valaith has the poisoned condition.

Dorno witnesses the chaos erupt and yells "hey, no one hurts Dorno's friends anymore!" with a sudden flash of anger.  In that instant the familiar bear spirit erupts from the druid with a roar and the druid himself charges the cloak wrapped corpse attempting to tackle it and subdue what was once Irithiel.

(Rolling Athletics to grapple w/ bear advantage.  Please let me know if I do this incorrectly.)

15

Dorno successfully grasps the body and holds it tight, but risks being overwhelmed by the fumes.

Dorno also make a con save, please.

Lùthedir takes a step back and stretches a hand out in front of him. Black tendrils float from his palm, ensnaring the head of what was once Irithiel, but it shakes them off before they can take effect.

Vark's action.

Clearly startled by the sudden attack, Vark scrambles around to the side of the cart. Sparks begin to play across his arms as he prepares an attack, but he hesitates as he sees the precarious melee. Instead his eyes jump to the injured guard. Vark moves to the man’s side, a little behind, and pushes the last healing potion into the elf’s hand. “Uh, this’ll help.” Now turning back to the stinking corpse, Vark extends his hand, hoping a gust of wind will give Dorno an edge in toppling the thing. There is a woosh of air as Vark concentrates, slight wisps of cloud appearing to buffet the pair, successfully sending them both crashing to the ground, the undead pinned under Dorno’s weight.

While Dorno wrestles with the living corpse, Bründir draws his sword and stalks over to the scuffle, "Dorno! Hold'em down!" With a quick swipe, Bründir's blade comes down, but the revenant leans aside and the blade catches in the soil and only glances the target's head. "Damnit, hold 'is arms an' I'll bash 'is head!"

Jex, already down from the wagon to protest its being opened, takes a moment to gather his senses, he is expecting trouble from the guard and is a little slow to register the elf corpse. Quickly shaking his head he takes out his swords and stands over the prone pair, ready to end the battle. Spying an opportunity, he arcs both swords down in a single motion at the head of the zombie, slashing across its eyes before its head disappears again under Dorno's elbow as the grapple continues.

The guard staggers backwards, reeling from the blow. He gratefully accepts the potion from Vark, before hurrying back towards the village.

"Help! Undead!" He cries.

Thurston sees that the danger is too real and his fears of getting the elves upset for killing their kindred a second time are silenced. 

"Thor!! " he cries " give me the strength to send this soul to Hel again!!! " 

His hammer crackles with electricity as he spins it a couple of times while advancing towards the creature again. He gets close to it and throws his hammer upwards, putting all his weight after it. 

The warhammer hits the undead in the chin, when it hits a thunder can be heard and tendrils of lighting jump from the arm of the paladin and the hammer towards the undead. The strength of the hit is enough to lift the former elf and send it five feet in the air back in the road. 

He looks to the creature fall and he gives it some seconds to make sure it doesn't move anymore. Then he turns to rest of the party and says.

"I hope they do not ban us now for the inn. I am thirsty!" 

"Perhaps we should burn it now?" Jex suggests. "Better it doesn't have the chance to get up again." 

"Ask them " says Thurston pointing to the elves and he looks to his now ruined cloak. 

" I am going to need a new one..." 

As the adrenaline fades some scared elves can be seen sticking their heads back out from their hiding places and a cadre of guards comes running around the corner.

"What's going on here?" One demands authoritatively.

Bründir rests his blade over his shoulder, "Sad and sadder news I'm afraid. Yer ambassador's been corrupted by th' same cult we rooted out. Ask yer guard posted 'ere since he was about as close as any."

The elven warriors glance about, but Nodron is nowhere to be seen. The one who spoke appears to be some kind of leader and, turning his head, he gives a quick order to another elf, who heads up a ladder into the trees.

"Yala Gadron."

Elvish:

 A few of the other guards move to inspect Irithiel's once more lifeless body, before wrapping it anew in the cloaks and preparing it for transport up into the treetops.

"You will be escorted to the canopy while we investigate," the lead elf informs the group, now returning his attention to them. "Please, take your things and follow me."

Once more the party is guided up the delicate, pale wood staircases that ascend the tree trunks to the forest canopy above. The way is lit at regular intervals by small lanterns that send shadows dancing amongst the conifers in the flickering candlelight. When they finally step off onto one of the platforms held aloft on the branches, they see a squat, longhouse type structure that runs between two trunks. Gadron is waiting for them outside it. Lúthedir lurks behind Dorno and Valaith, apparently trying to avoid notice.

"You return," he observes drily. He stands stiffly with his hands held behind his back and then begins to pace.

"While my Lady is grateful for your readiness to assist our people, you will understand my concern at hearing that you have brought the undead among us."

His tone is slick with ice and ire.

"Tell me, what has happened to Irithiel and why have you brought him into the village in such a condition? Explain quickly."

Valaith immediately steps forward with an apologetic look upon her face. "We are very sorry to say that by the time we reached the bandit encampment and found Irithiel, he had already been killed by the cultists there. We wanted to bring his body back to his people so that you could all perform whatever burial rites are your custom. He has been with us for nearly a day and did not turn into... that thing until we reached the city. Or if it had already turned, then it waited... I don't know much about such things, m'lord, but please know that we only had the best intentions. We would not have brought undead to you had we known..."

Gadron groans and rubs his brow.

"Lady Lelfaer will want to speak with you of this, as well as everything else you have discovered, but... in the morning. Find yourselves lodgings and be at the great hall after breakfast."

With that he turns and stalks off back into the building behind him.

Valaith turns back to her companions with a large grin, clearly proud of her ability to smooth things over. "See that? Not too bad, eh? Now, let's go get some hot food and cold drinks. I have a ravenous thirst for more of that sweet drink they make here." She looks at Thurston and Dorno. "What was that called again?"

"Mead" answers Thurston "It's called mead and they brew it with some frutal scents here. You'lll see" 

Despite his words his mood isn't has cherrish as it should, or used to, be. The turning of the elf into an undead worries him. And he ponders the implications of it. 

But by the time they reach the inn they were the last time, he has recovered part of his good mood and he asks for two bottles of mead, one for the party, another for him. 

As the undead elf is dispatched Dorno gets up off the ground and pats himself off.  He sniffles and anyone paying attention might find the single tear in the firbolg's eye.  He mutters something about "no one hurts his friends" and "poor nice elf wizard man".

Dorno is looking perplexed by what has happened as they meet with Gadron, but quickly perks up when told they will meet with the Lady again soon.  His posture quickly straightens, his eyebrows raise and his ears wiggle.  As Val asks about their beverage of choice Dorno says "honey water?" and licks his lips.  As the official name is spoken Dorno says "mead?"  "Mmm, Dorno likes this 'mead'!"

 Bründir retrieves his coin purse and fishes out a handful of gold coins. He passes them to the nearest ally on the way to the tavern, "Jex, yer wagon's nearby, right? Got some business to close 'fore we celebrate...may even make more to celebrate with. As we go, mind if I take another look at th' purse of stones? I think I remember an old trick me mother showed me a few times."