"I would think that what is going on, at least in the basic sense, were fairly apparent," Janis says, kicking at a charred and horrific-looking corpse at her feet with one leather-clad toe.
"There are walking dead here, and the sort who do less farm work than attack wayfaring strangers. More might be present inside the buildings. I recommend we fire them, and be prepared for whatever attempts to flee. Villagers will have either attempted to find a central location of stronghold, or else taken to the hills. Judging from the superstitions I've noted in the past with peasants, they'll have avoided the hill hereabouts because of the weather right now," she concludes.
Our perceived righteousness has become our undoing, as our enemies plot for it as an expectation of response, she thought. Next we shall have fluttery-eyed maidens begging for aid and children with cookies asking for us to enter the maws of bears, she sighed unhappily, looking at the trio of paladins. Why can't they all be more like the Karnnathian, she thought, looking fondly over at the priestess of Vol.
Methodically, Janis walks around to each corpse and plops a generous dollop of acid globule on top of each corpse's face, then begins rifling through any belongings they might possess.
"The dead that walk once might walk again, this way they'll in least have a harder time seeing which direction they plod... and if they have a master then perhaps they have a master's effects upon them," she explains to forestall arguments with the more righteous of her companions.
