Caravan Campsite
Just across the Milk Run bridge from Stonebarrow, this flat, clear area has been set aside for travelers and merchants. Two freshwater wells are on site, along with a large map of the area and some bathroom facilities next to the swamp (where nobody will notice the smell). A sturdy corral is set up for Dromodons or other drays.

Olivia finds herself at the gypsy camp after much struggle. The rate at which the rain is coming down has left visibility to less than twenty feet or so. There is absolutely no-one outside at the camp, either. Probably wise, really, given the weather.

Olivia pushes the soggy hood of her rain-cloak back from her forehead a bit so that she can attempt to make out the features of the wagons. If she can just see well enough through the rain to find Djivan's wagon, then she can get on with this. I don't know how I'm going to convince him to come with me, but I have to, somehow, she thinks.

Djivan's wagon is still rather easy to find. It's the one that leans slightly to the side and smells of wet socks. The windows are fogged over, but lit up. So, someone is probably inside.

Olivia silently prays that Djivan is still alive and well in that wagon. However, now knowing the necromancer's cleverness, she approaches the wagon cautiously – well, as cautiously as she is able, given that the rain is making walking and looking around that much more difficult. She creeps up to the wagon's door and tries the handle. If she can have a peek inside first and all is well, then she'll make her presence known. If the door's unlocked, that is.

The door is unlocked, certainly. And peeking inside Olivia sees … pots. Lots and lots of pots. And then she hears the sounds of dripping water. Looks like Djivan's roof is a bit worn out and leaky. On the far side of the wagon is Djivan himself, sitting in a chair, with a pot tied to his head. Above him, drops of water are falling into the pot, making plinking sounds. He looks … pissed.

Olivia doesn't know whether to cry in relief or laugh at the fact that the Skreek has a pot of water on his head. She opens his door a bit wider and clears her throat noisily. Then she looks pointedly around the wagon and back at Djivan. "Uh… you might want to fix your roof," she comments, brilliantly stating the obvious.

"It work fine usually! We don' get rain like dis dat often," the Skreek grumbles, still looking pissed. He gets up and the sloshing of the water in the pot on his head can be readily heard. "Why de heck are vou out in dis crappy weather? An get out of de rain and into de … drips. Well, at least it less wet in here."

Olivia enters the wagon and closes the door. "I came to find you," she says, stepping carefully around all the pots on the floor. "I need you to come with me. I have to find my parents and take you all back to the Gnarly Tree. Hopefully we'll all be safe there, but… " Then she shakes her head, knowing she's getting ahead of herself already. "We have a big problem," she explains. "There's a necromancer in Stonebarrow. Several lives are in danger… and one of them is yours."

"Wait a minute dere. Why would my life be in danger? An' why is der a Necromancer here, anyways?" Djivan asks as he starts to undo the strap that holds the pot on his head.

Olivia answers Djivan's questions in reverse order. "There's a necromancer here because of Natasha," she says quietly. "He's trying to become a lich… and he wants to add Natasha's power to his own during the final ritual that will make him into one. He's been following your tribe for years now. That's why so many deaths have occurred around you – they were all meant to complete that process. As for your own life, well," here the Skeek's voice drops even further, "that's because of me. He wanted me to deliver Natasha to him, and Amelia and Zahnrad, as well. He threatened to kill both you and my parents in front of me if I did not." Then she falls silent and lets Djivan draw his own conclusions.

Djivan listens to this, and for once looks rather serious. He slips the pot off his head and sets it aside. Without saying a word, he goes to a side chest and opens it, pulling out a couple belted sets of throwing knives. "I no' about to run from someone who threaten Natasha or de tribe," he says simply, and starts strapping on the weapons. "An I no about to let anyone get away wit' threatening' vou, either."

Olivia watches as Djivan starts pulling out his weapons. "We tried to lead the necromancer into a trap but that didn't work – he didn't come himself, he sent one of his zombies, instead, and it forced us to show our hand early," she explains. "That's why I've come for you and my parents. Amelia says the safest place for us all right now is the Gnarly Tree. That's where our village witches live."

"Vhere Natasha?" Djivan asks calmly.

Olivia looks sad and stricken all at once. "She went after the necromancer, to the Kettenrad compound down by the dam – she thinks she can defeat him on her own! Amelia and the town's militia are going after her, though, to try and help. She-" Olivia's voice breaks and she tries again. "She thinks this is all her fault and all her own responsibility."

"I be goin' to de dam, den," Djivan says. He takes in a breath and wipes his matted hair back. "Vou shoul' find a safe place to go. De tribe has to stan' together or we no survive."

Olivia looks stricken yet again, but this time for a completely different reason. "I was hoping that you'd come with me to take my parents to the Gnarly Tree, but… but I can understand that you want to help someone in your tribe." It looks like it is costing her a lot to let him go. However, she forces herself to carry on. "All right. You should know that others of the necromancer's zombie army are about, and in this rain you might not see them before they can attack you. The rain is a little gift of his, too – Lili found magical runes carved into trees all around the town, which are affecting the weather."

Djivan pauses. "Dere's an army about too?" he asks. He then reaches over, dumps out the pot of water and sticks it back on his head, this time as a makeshift helmet. "Den I can't let vou go alone, either. You more or less a part of dis tribe too," he admits.

"There's some of his army about, yes. Bravil took care of a lot of the rest of them," the Skeek replies. "For a huge wolf, he's a lot sneakier than I would have imagined. He followed me and the necromancer's zombie all the way into the trap without us noticing. Or that could've been the rain… " Then she clasps Djivan's hand. "It will take us a little while to get to my parents' house – it's in the opposite direction and just outside of the town's limits. So if you come, you might miss Natasha. I just thought you should be forewarned. What you want to do is up to you."

"In truth, I no be a lot of help to her," Djivan admits, sighing. "So, I go where I kin be the most help, vou know? She vould tell me to go vith vou, anyvay. So, let's get vour parents safe. Den ve can try to help her. Deal?"

Olivia gives the Skreek a ghost of a smile. "I thought I would be of some help to Natasha, too, by coming up with this great plot to trap the necromancer… and you see where that got me. So don't feel too bad." Then she puts the hood of her rain-cloak back up over her head. "It's a deal. And, uh, just so you know, we may be in for a bit of a fight when we get to my parents' place. We, um, don't get along that well."

"I'll jus' knock em out and drag dem," Djivan comments. If he's serious or not, hard to say. He opens the door and steps out into the rain. "Vou vill haf to lead, vou know… "

"Don't make fun – it might come to that," Olivia admits, following Djivan back out into the downpour. She takes a few moments to get her bearings, then starts leading the way towards her parents' home.

And the rain is just as bad as it was earlier. Olivia gets lost in the rain several times before she finally finds what she thinks is the right road. "You sure vou know vere vou are going?" Djivan asks. Then a snap is heard nearby. A branch just broke.

"I'm as sure as I can be in all this rain," Olivia grumbles, then starts when she hears the branch break. She looks pointedly at Djivan and comments, "I hope that was just a harmless little woodland critter, but… " She looks around warily, to see if she can find the source of the noise.

Why, yes, yes, Olivia can. About five feet to her right is a walking, rotting, Gallee. "Diiiiiieeee," he rasps, swinging a broken sword at the two. Djivan squeaks and grabs Olivia's arm, yanking her and himself out of the way!

Olivia nearly slides to the ground in all the mud but rights herself quickly, using Djivan for balance. "Run or fight?" she yells to him. "If we fight, we have to break this thing into enough pieces so that it can't follow us anymore!"

Djivan's answer is to whip out one of the daggers and throw it right at the zombie. The heavy rains don't help, but the blade does find its mark, and the zombie now has one arm firmly pinned to a tree. "Dat might hold it till its arm rips off," he starts to say, and the zombie promptly rips off his own arm. "Like dat."

"Look like stumpy wan to fight. Without a weapon," Djivan notes, sounding rather amused, really.

"Good start," Olivia grunts, picking up a larger fallen branch that the rains knocked to the earth. Hefting it, she swings right for the hand of the dismembered arm stuck to the tree. If I can get this right, she thinks, I can smash that sword out of his grip and then I'll have something to club the other undead with. Not much of a weapon, but it'll do…

It's not a moving target, so giving it a good whack is fairly easy. The sword drops down to the ground with a thud. "Heh, in case of zombie, break arm to get sword," Djivan comments. He's dancing around the zombie, trying to be generally annoying to it.

Olivia picks up the sword, testing it carefully for its weight, to see if it's even possible for her to swing it around. "Har har," she pants, now leveling the weapon at the dead Gallee.

"No no, it be hack hack! You hack wit a sword, not har!" Djivan insists. "Hit it already! It stinky!"

Olivia somehow manages to stick her tongue out at the Skreek and swing the sword at the Gallee's other arm all at the same time.

And off goes its other arm! Djivan starts laughing. Right up until the point the zombie headbutts him. And down the Skreek goes. "Ow," Djivan mutters, now splayed out in the mud. "He broke me pot." And sure enough, the makeshift helmet has been split in two.

Olivia heys! as the gypsy goes down and now takes a swipe at the zombie's ankles, trying to cut its feet out from under it. Or at least knock it off balance so she can try for a leg.

And off with the feet! The zombie teeters, then falls over … right next to Djivan. the Skreek seems to make a miraculous recovery from being bonked and is on his feet in a hurry! "Vatch vere you be throwin' zombies," he mutters.

"Oh, so now you're suddenly serious about this?" Olivia huffs, kicking the zombie's dismembered arm and feet away from the rest of the corpse, so that it can't suddenly put itself back together. Then, as a final move, she grimaces and swings for the zombie's neck, to sever its head from the rest of it.

There, one nicely segmented zombie. "Vhat? I was keeping it busy," Djivan grumbles. "An he broke me best pot. Shouldn't ve be going?"

Olivia puts the flat of the sword's blade up on her shoulder so that she can carry it, since she doesn't have a scabbard. "Yeah, let's keep moving," she says. "Nice throwing, by the way. D'you want that knife back?" she asks, waving over at the arm pinned to the tree.

Djivan walks over and yanks the knife out of the tree and shakes off the arm. "Yeah, but I never eat wit dis one again," he notes, then sighs. "Let's go, before his friends show up… "

"I agree, let's move," Olivia says, then begins leading the gypsy back down what she hopes is the correct road.

Alas, they only get a few hundred more feet. And she hears branches breaking again. This time, from all around them.

Olivia's eyes go wide and her gaze now darts in every direction. "Ummm… I say we run until there's no option left but to fight?" she suggests to the gypsy.

"I agree with that plan," Djivan says and is about to take off … and they're surrounded. At least ten zombies close in around the two. The stench is overpowering … and for Olivia, bringing back memories of a not too distant dream.

Olivia takes the broken and beaten sword off her shoulder and points it at the zombies immediately blocking the direction in which they need to go. "Try and hack through these corpses first, then make a break for it, see if we can lose the others!" she hisses to Djivan. "I don't think we can take on them all!"

Djivan draws out two daggers and turns so he's back to back with Olivia. "No, I don't think ve can, either," he agrees. And then the zombies close in and attack…

The two begin to fight the zombies. Olivia defends one side with her battered sword, slashing and breaking the decaying forms. Djivan defends the other, his daggers cutting joints and dismembering those that draw near. Yet, they can't find an exit route. As one falls, another just takes it place. And the circle of corpses draws in closer, and closer, to the two.

"This is… insane… !" Olivia gasps, thrusting her rusty blade into another rotting leg, trying to cut an opening through the corpses somewhere. "Should we just… try to ram through… and run?"

"I … don't know," Djivan says, gasping for breath. And just them a moment of silence and stillness seems to come over Olivia. In her mind, she hears the tired voice of Natasha. One word. "Goodbye."

For that one horrifying moment, Olivia can't move, she can barely breathe. Then her eyes fix on some faraway point and she wails, "Natasha, no! What have you done?"

The zombies all around the two suddenly lunge wildly, this way and that as if suddenly in the throes of a horrible spasm. And then … they simply collapse. "Uhm, dey broke," Djivan says lamely.

Olivia's eyes unfix at last and she stares numbly at the fallen corpses. Then her sword falls from her nerveless fingers to splatter into the mud. "She's gone… " she murmurs, feeling suddenly cold and lost. "Natasha's dead. So is the necromancer. It's over."

"She … can't be, can she? I mean, she's … Natasha," Djivan insists, sounding as if that's all the reason there needs to be for her to not be gone. He shakes his head slowly, saying, "I don' believe it."

Olivia looks at Djivan helplessly. "I wish it weren't so, either, but it is. I heard her voice say goodbye to me in my mind." Then the Skeek glances back down the path, in the direction they had been heading before the zombies surrounded them. "I-I should at least check on my parents. They're probably safe, but I want to be sure. You should go to the dam now. I don't know how your tribe honors the dead but you should at least be able to take her bo- Her… " Somehow, Olivia can't make herself say the word.

Djivan takes her hand firmly in his. "She can' be dead. An I'll prove it to vou. Vou are comin' wit' me to de dam. If he gone, den your parents are safe, no? So, a delay hurt no one," he says firmly.

Olivia doesn't have the heart to pull away from Djivan, even though she's concerned about her own parents' safety. "All right, I'll go with you for now," she says in a small voice. "Soon, though, I'll need to come back."

"Righ' and I'll go with you. Come on," Djivan says. The storm which was raging around them starts to subside. And through the haze, bands of sunlight even manage to break through. "Dere is always hope," Djivan says, looking skyward. "Even de worst storm has to end, no?"

Olivia pushes the hood of her rain-cloak completely off her head with her free hand and squints into the sunshine. "That's the theory, anyway," she agrees softly. Then she allows herself to be led back towards the dam.