Immersive Ink

waysoftheearth wrote:
Once outside the pavilion, the stench of the dead is noticeably fainter on the air.

"The front door is nearest," says Percy, and it clearly is only a score or so strides from the flap in the pavilion side to the front gate of the warehouse itself.

Happily, there are slithers of white, bright light visible between slats and timbers of the front gate. It must still be daylight outside, and oh how bright it does seem!

"Near, but shut to us," remarks Mads, but he is already striding toward it.

doctorx wrote:
"Unless your sorcery can assist us once more?" Josiane speculates, watching the sorcerer head toward the door.

She cuffs at her watering eyes and draws her sword again.

"Watch the pavilion; be ready to run for the stairs up if this way remains barred to us."

sulldawga wrote:
"I'll eat that door if needs be to get us outta here. Let us begone afore the walking dead trouble me again!"

Despite the jest, the look on Dorgan's face is deadly serious. His head snaps around to look back at the pavilion every few seconds...

waysoftheearth wrote:
Mads begins to incant the sorcerous phrase which unmade the rear door to this place, even as he paces briskly toward the boarded up front door...

(1d6=2)

...the strange words fall from his tongue mal-formed. He chokes on a syllable, then splutters. He coughs and attempts to start over, but alas the verse is ruined utterly and gone from the young warlock's mind.

"I know not the formulae," he rasps, when it is clear he cannot work the spell, "without consulting my spellbook."

By this time, the company has marched right up to the large gate which separates them from daylight. This is one side of a pair of 20ft wide timber gates; vastly heavy, and hanging from great iron hinges. Built into the massive gate, however, is a small mantlet door, which can be opened independently. It looks far less imposing.

"The mantlet!" urges Percy, looking over his shoulders to see dark shadows cast upon the inside of the pavilion wall behind an eerie light that is beginning to grow within the tent...

doctorx wrote:
"Dorgan, force the mantlet," says Josiane; "Percy, Mads; stand by me - we must buy time."

She looks at the pavilion and a thought strikes her. "Cover me," she says to Percy and, her face pale but determined, she runs to the nearest of the ropes securing the pavilion in position. She will attempt to cut through the rope with her sword, hoping to bring the great tent down on the horrors massing within.

sulldawga wrote:
"Done."

Dorgan uses the space afforded to him to take a couple extra steps back, while sheathing his weapons, and then he'll run full speed at the mantlet door. He lowers his shoulder at the last instant.

If yet another door fails to yield to his might, he'll quickly switch to the axe. Thoughts of the zombies coming up from the depths of the basement will serve as fuel to turbocharge his swings.

waysoftheearth wrote:
Josiane severs the nearest gyrope with a swing of her sword as Dorgan charges the mantlet at full tilt.

The eerie light within the pavilion now casts hideous, lumbering shadows upon the inside wall of the tent, which partially collapses as the gyrope snaps free. A couple more like that might see half the tent collapsed!

(1d6=3) Dorgan's shoulder breaches the mantlet with a serious crash. The little portal is broken open; but only just. The burst timbers still cling to their hinges and the dead-bolt as a ruined shambles, but dazzling shafts of searching sunlight pour in through the breach. With a moment's further work Dorgan could clear the obstructing timbers and be outside.

Mads has already fathomed Josinane's plan, and moves toward another gyrope. Percy is backing toward the mantlet with his missile weapon loaded and aimed at the tent flap.

sulldawga wrote:
Dorgan will clear a path suitable for the largest member of the party, whether by hand or, if needed, by axe.

Over his shoulder, he cries, "It's not too late ta put a torch ta this charnel house!"

doctorx wrote:
Josiane keeps on cutting ropes.

Given that we don't have any oil, what are our chances of firing the tent and, given the building's structure, what are the chances of the fire spreading beyond in her estimation? She's desperate to avoid bringing any harm to the people of this part of town by fire-raising, but the thought of a horde of hungry zombies wandering out into the busy street isn't sitting well with her either...

waysoftheearth wrote:
Mads and Josiane each slash another gyrope, letting this side of the pavilion collapse over the heads of the approaching horrors as Dorgan uses his axe to briskly clear the mantlet of obstructing timbers and splinters.

That done, the full force of sunlight streams through the open portal and into the musty warehouse.

Dorgan steps, blinking, out into the light with Percy following close behind.

"Sweet sunlight," says Percy, looking up at the bright sky. In fact, it is late afternoon on an overcast day. There is a hint of rain falling.