Tomtom clenched his short bow and watched the shambling forms of zombie kobolds slowly advance through the tunnel. Growling softly under his breath he gave the hand signal to fall back. He didn't like that the lich was raising the fallen members of his tribe and using them in such a way. The zombies were not an issue for the skirmishers under Tomtom's command, but the lich had proven to be a shrewd combatant and had started using his weakest undead to probe for traps. It was getting so that they had to take bigger and bigger risks to do anything meaningful to the intruders and that was not a way that would lead to victory in the long term.

It was incredibly hard to lead a guerilla fight against a force that didn't care about casualties. However, their efforts were not in vain, with Tomtom estimating that his crew of three alone had destroyed or incapacitated somewhere in the range of fifty or more undead via various traps and ambushes. The string of obscenities that flowed from the lich's mouth when they had dropped a large cauldron of lamp oil from a hidden alcove above a particularly dense pack of undead and then set them ablaze with a torch would be a story that Tomtom would probably tell to the tribe pups for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, the skirmishers had also taken hefty casualties in the fighting. He wasn't sure at the exact number of their losses, but he could make a reasonable guess and say they were down several dozen fighters and were at about half strength. He saw too many familiar faces in the advancing zombie horde. That was probably why they had gotten the order to buy time for the non-combatants to flee further down to their hidden bolt holes and hiding spots instead of repelling the invaders.

Fortunately for the tribe, buying time was something the skirmisher crews did well. They made the lich pay for every inch he advanced into their home. They peppered the advancing forces with arrows and bolts to lure them into hidden blade traps or pit falls lined with punji sticks. They dispersed flour into the caves and set the particles on fire to create explosions or used oil to slick the floor and then set fire to the uncoordinated undead that got trapped in the slippery mess. They even got a few ghouls in the last cave in they had caused when they had triggered the mechanisms in the support beams.

Taking a moment to give his crew time to vacate the kill area, Tomtom pulled the camouflaged pin filling a hole in the wall. He grinned maliciously as a loud thud sounded as several large round boulders were dislodged from the ceiling and started rolling down the slight groove that had been discreetly carved into the floor. He happily hummed to himself as several satisfyingly meaty thuds fill the air while the boulders roll through the undead. It always made Tomtom tingle a little when a trap or ambush went off successfully.

Nodding approvingly, Tomtom felt that his crew had bought more than enough time for the evacuation and his part in protecting his tribe had been completed. Taking a deep breath Tomtom decided that now it was time to make his escape before the really dangerous undead started to advance. He didn't know what the vile creatures were after, but whatever it was he hoped that the Great One got what she wanted out of them to make all the loss worthwhile. He wondered what would motivate the Great One to action. Tomtom was vaguely aware that the Great One was a powerful entity, but she mostly just hung around and watched the daily coming and going in the cave with only an occasional comment.

The rumor mill around what had the Great One in such a flurry of activity was really buzzing. Some of his tribe were even whispering about this being part of a plan for an escape from the prison that binds her. Tomtom didn't really care one way or the other, but he would really prefer not to get eaten today.

Sliding back into the shadows Tomtom carefully inched himself along the wall while keeping his eye on the tunnel where he sprung the boulder trap to make sure no stray undead came after him. Satisfied he was clear from that direction Tomtom turned to run down the tunnel toward the escape shaft he had sent his crew to. When he rounded the corner he found himself catch his foot on something squishy and wet. Stumbling and almost losing his balance he was quite distressed to see the severed head of one of the members of his crew.

Hissing slightly, Tomtom notched an arrow, jumped away and let his attack fly as a a ghoul leapt from the ceiling to decapitate the kobold. The Ghoul let out a low guttural chuckle as it took the arrow center mass in a shot that would have killed any living thing. Dropping his bow to switch to the small hatchet he carried at his side, Tomtom didn't like his odds of getting out today, but took comfort in the knowledge that his death was at least a minor speed bump that bought precious time for the majority to escape.

Cham wasn't sure exactly how long she had been unconscious, but she was pretty sure she wished that she was still out. Every muscle, joint, and bone in her body screamed in protest when she tried to get to her feet. Grunting and losing her balance, Cham was surprised when she wasn't able to catch herself on the edge of the nearby table. Looking down at her left arm she remembered why.

"Right. Gonna have to get something done about that." Sitting up once more, she looked around the small cottage as the cobwebs slowly left her thoughts. Letting out a shout of panic as precious events clicked into place in her mind, Cham jumped up to her feet and ran to a small chest in the corner of the one room building.

Fumbling with the latch, and opening the chest she retrieved a small silver hand mirror covered in ornate designs of flowers and held it in front of her face. She looked awful. Her entire face was covered in ugly purple bruises and the bone structure around one of her eyes looked like it had been altered when she took a blow there. "It is a blessing that I didn't lose that eye." Turning her face to the side Cham marveled at the angry red scar that knit her right cheek closed. She vaguely remembered there was a hole there before she passed out.

Shrugging at her new scars, Cham ran a current of divine energy through the mirror and waited for her desired result. After what seemed like an eternity a bored looking sister appeared in the image of the mirror. "This line is for emergencies only..." Cham had to bite back a sarcastic "No shit." remark, but thankfully it didn't take the operator long to notice the state of Cham's features. The sister's face went from bored, to confused, and then finally settling on concerned in a matter of seconds.

"I need to speak with the abbess. The package has been compromised and could be in enemy hands." Cham noted that her operator's panic ratcheted up to eleven as the sister vigorously nodded her and disappeared from the mirror. Another eternity later an elderly looking woman with elvish features appeared in the mirror. Cham immediately recognized this woman as her superior, Abbess Sarah Longchild. "You look like death warmed over. Tell me what happened."

Taking a deep breath Cham relayed the whole story from the beginning. Tears streamed unbidden from the corners of her eyes as she recounted the deaths of the children under her care and how she sent her last living kid into the mountains with the package before coming face to face with a remnant of the Dead War come back to haunt them all and how he had tracked the package through a spy network that had gotten lucky.

The Abbess listened to the entire tale without saying a single word. Closing her eyes she began to massage her temples as Cham finished her recap. The silence hung there for a long pregnant moment before the Abbess asked her question "What are you going to do?"

"Go after my kid of course. She won't die easy and if I hurry then I might be able to save her." Nodding her assent, the Abbes looked to her left and began gesturing wildly to someone that Cham couldn't see. A hand reached from outside of the frame and handed the Abbess small clip board. She frowned over it before shaking her head. "You are alone in this. It will be a week before I can muster help, all of our active combatants are out helping the kingdom forces suppress a cult uprising." Letting out a sigh the Abbess shook her head. "Now I see why they attacked, they created a huge blind spot. They will probably never get another chance this big to retrieve the package."

Grunting, the Abbess' eyes fixated back on Cham. "What do you need? I have already sent word for reinforcements, but as I said they are a week out at minimum. However, I will send you anything else I can." Pondering the question for a moment, Cham hung the mirror on a nail in the wall. "I will need a full combat kit, some extra healing potions would be nice too. If you can spare them I would like a few quartz potions as I am going to be using a lot of Divine power being alone." Looking down she wiggled the stump at the mirror. "Also can you do anything about this?"

The Abbess' eyebrows climbed to her scalp as she noticed that Cham was missing her arm, that detail previously escaping her attention with the dire news and thoughts on how to combat this situation occupying her ind. Nodding her head she snapped her finger to another unseen aide and began giving rapid fire instructions. "Give us an hour. Call if anything changes. I pray for your success, for if you fail we all may be doomed."

Cham nodded once and the call ended. Looking around the cabin Cham decided to spend the time until her equipment arrived cleaning herself up. She was still caked in blood and offal and her robes where ruined. Walking outside she awkwardly drew water from the well and cleaned herself before changing into a sturdy set of outdoor clothes that she kept in the cabin for wilderness trips with her kids. She also took this time to open a jar of pickled okra that Janie had made for their last fishing trip a few months ago. Sitting down on the small porch she silently ate, doing her best not to think about all the dead. She failed miserably.

Almost as if the church were waiting for her to finish eating, after polishing off the last pickle there was a loud pop and a bright flash of light from inside of the small cottage. Hopping to her feet Cham walked inside. Waiting for her was the equipment she had asked for. There was a pair of spike cesti made of blessed silver, a small flat of potions of various colors, a small backpack she knew to be filled with other mundane tools such as bandages and rations. What wasn't standard though was the large silver gauntlet. Curious Cham picked it up and was surprised at how warm the metal was. Underneath the armor she noticed a note, laying down the guantlet she picked up the letter and read it. It consisted of two short sentences.

"Put your stump inside. Bite down on something first."

Eyeing the gauntlet once more, Cham undid her leather belt and bit down. Reaching down and skeptically affixing the obviously too large gauntlet to the stump of her arm, she was surprised when it shrank down. Then it clamped down onto the stump of her arm and fire shot through into her brain. Biting down on her belt she tried her best to endure.

As the fire grew hotter and hotter Cham could no longer keep it in and let out a primal scream of pain. She felt burning hot blood drip out of her nose as her whole body started to spasm in a seizure. Falling to her knees as her eye sight faded to black, Cham clung to a steadfast refusal to slip into unconsciousness. An eternity later the pain receded, gone as quickly as it had initially hit her.

Rolling onto her back she wiped the blood from her face with the back of her hand, only to be surprised when she came into contact with the metal of the gauntlet. Staring dumbly at her new hand, Cham let out a chuckle and made a fist. Slamming it into the floor she pushed herself to her feet and gathered her equipment.

She had a kid to save.