As Saga stepped out of the tent's cozy warmth into the cold, dark forest, they could immediately feel their heart beating in their chest like a war drum. Before them, the dark woods seemed to encroach on the group, the darkness suddenly oppressive as Saga remembered the bear that had nearly killed them.

As if on cue, Saga could spot the first pair of red dots in the darkness. The cries rang out again. They sounded similar to that of the bear they fought in that it sounded like the creature's vocal cords were damaged beyond repair. Yet somehow a lot less terrifying as there was nowhere near the same force. Out of the darkness came several twisted figures. Their bodies were gaunt and elongated grotesquely. And all with dull eyes and sickly torn-up skin. Saga had seen those kinds of eyes before. Right before the moment that their own throat had been slit.

Before the memory could take a hold of their mind like it had before Olaf unslung his shield and ax and then took off in a mad sprint right for the small horde. As he did, he bellowed out orders. "Gothwald. Take the ones in the back. Lenara, pick off anyone's straying from the pack. Ingrid, you scatter them."

When Saga looked around, the two Scouts were already gone. The shambling undead turned into a full-on run, howling as they met Olaf in battle. The large bearded man didn't even hesitate, slamming into the first one with his shield. There was an explosion of noise and sound as the two met. Then the draugr went flying backward as the snow explodes around Olaf's feet. As Saga stared, wide-eyed at the inhuman feat of strength, three small motes of flame shot past them, colliding with another undead. It went up in flames, howling and screeching as it scorched down to the bone.

A third seemingly slipped past Olaf, jumping with its rushed spear in hand, tossing it like a javelin at the group hanging. Before the spear could make an impact, however, a shimmering shield lit up between the Draugr and the ones yet to join the battle. The spear bounced harmlessly onto the ground as Ingrid moved into the fray. A massive creature formed out of the snow and debris around her. It looked like a giant moose, made out of swirling winds of snow and dirt and dead shrub. Pointing with her entire arm, the dwarf woman instructed it to where the shambling group of undead was the most densely packed together. The beast charged straight into the undead, ignoring spears and claws and broken swords before it seemingly detonated. Another cloud of debris and snow kicked up as cutting winds sliced the surrounding undead into so many bits and pieces.

“Magic…” Saga's eyes were as wide as they could be. “Real magic.” For a second, Saga was a kid again. Losing entire days in books about mages and warriors. Or back at their first Larp, losing it over the cool, movie-like props and costumes the more seasoned larpers had. But this wasn’t that. This was real. This was real magic. Yes, it was being employed in a brutal fight against horrifying monsters. But it was magic. Real magic.

As they stood there and marveled at the fight, a bit of draugr landed on their shoulder, breaking their moment of stunned reverie. Saga looked slowly to the hand, still moving about on the ground before finally going still as the owner of the hand was cleaved head to toe by Olaf. Saga had a slightly paler complexion now, but the feeling of wonder would not leave.

At this point, the battle was well and truly joined. Unlike the mad scramble for survival that had been Saga's first fight. No, this battle had a group of well-trained, well-equipped professionals. People who fought before, who fought the undead before. The draugr had the numbers, as there was a solid dozen of them. But they never seemed to stand much of a chance as the party of warriors and spellcasters set to work.

Saga watched as Ordan put his hands together only to pull them back out, threads of flame seemingly binding his fingers together. Then as he lashed out, webs of flame whipped out to wrap around two of the draugr who started to thrash and flail while fire ate into their undead flesh. Ingrid was a whirlwind, almost literally. She twisted about, twirling like a murderous ballerina with her ax cleaving undead with wind and steel both. Every so often, the symbol in her hand would pulse and a shockwave of hardened air shot out, pushing undead away from her if they got too close

Every so often, the shaft of an arrow would seemingly bloom out of the skull of a draugr, as the two scouts sniped down from their position in the trees. It was all happening so fast. As soon as one draugr was put down it was immediately on to the next. Whenever one of them tried to attempt Saga or Vetra, the half-giant would flick her wrist while speaking some words in a language Saga could not understand. Each time, Vetra would cast some manner of a spell. The first draugr who attempted to attack them was wrapped in thorns that shot up from below the frozen snow. Then the Priestess calmly instructed Saga on how to use their spear to the best effect, stabbing through the draugr skull. As the light in the draugr's eyes was extinguished, Saga felt a little more relaxed. This was far easier when you had a group of badass warriors and mage types to help you.

{You have defeated Draugr warrior. You have gained experience towards your next level. You have slightly improved your Spear Proficiency. }

As they examined the prompt, they could hear the last of the draugr get dropped by Olaf's heavy ax. When they looked back up, the battle was over.

Ingrid, now caked in an upsetting amount of undead viscera, walked up to Saga. She critically examined the spear Saga had just used to dispatch one of the draugr and made a face. "Once we are back, we'll help you with some gear that is made with you in mind," Ingrid said before motioning for Olaf to come closer. The two warriors stepped some distance away from the others in the group while Ingrid chanted some manner of a spell, much to Saga's continued amazement. Winds began to swirl around the two, scraping off and flinging the worst of the undead leftovers away.

“Welcome to our world.” Ordans voice came from over the shoulder. As Saga turned around, the man stood leaning against a tree. There was a crown of flame over his head and his eyes shone with a light that was as vivid as the sun itself. Vetra just shook her head at her comrade who had a flair for the dramatic.

“Always the showoff.” She said with a sigh. Saga thought it was extremely impressive, however. Maybe dying wasn’t all bad.