The Rope Trick works as number 13 promised and after a few moments, Marcus has healed everyone back to full and as mentioned the dimension only last for a few moments before vanishing again. Now nine scrolls remain for the rest of the trip.
Doing what they can to hide themselves, the League settles in for the rest of the night; and while strange noises and howls echoes across the landscape, but nothing harasses them from their rest.
Sleeping in a bit late into the morning (so that spell casters can regain all their spells) the League members are greeted by only a weak light from the sun, heavily filtered by the perpetual misty cloud cover over the land. In fact, even here on the plain, vision is limited to mayhap a mile at best. After their morning rituals (eating breakfast and preparing spells), the group gathers and sets out deeper into the Mourlands and towards the tower that they must seek.
Within an hour or so of marching, the League comes upon another huge pile of bodies – humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, goblins, and things that none can identify; some old, some adult, many young; men, women, children – hundreds if not thousands are stretched out in front of them, blocking any further passage if they do not wish to simple walk across the piles. The stretch is overwhelming – but only when they get within 20 feet or so and the bodies look to have died and fallen here only within the last few days or so. No raven or other carriage are about, the silences of the lands almost deafening by itself.
The pile of dead stretches both to the north and south of the Leagues location and across the old Lightning Rail path that they following, and extend at least a hundred feet in front of them…