Loten fended off two from the south as the ring of undead tighened around them. One he clobbered with a swift slice, but the other landed a blow to the paladin's neck.
Erelis kept the southwestern zombie at bay, but the one he had injured before lunged behind him cracking him across the skull. Meadows yelled out in pain, twisted around and bashed in its head with the butt of his weapon. It toppled over; a retching odor emanating swiftly from its crumpled corpse.

" Teflar, I am coming down." informed the mage from above.
The woodsman from the east had his own hands full dealing with the press of the zombies as they pinned him in the center. Pulling out both swords, Teflar swung freely away as they tried to get at him. The northeastern sentry found an opening and cut into his left side with its clunky blade and cracked open the rangers ribs. It was clear that these monstrosities were skilled with their strike. Dropping his shortword, Teflar grunted in pain as the blood flowed freely down his side soaking his trousers. He stumbled backwards trying to keep the two away with his longsword as he fumbled with his left hand for his pouch.

Aramil landed on the concrete floor and reached out with his left hand moving it in a complex pattern. Strange words were spelled and a flash of blue flew from his fingers crashing into a nearby zombie. The creature staggered backwards moaning a deep, unhuman grunt.

Meadows turned just in time to fend a blow from his wavering zombie. But as the psionist did his best at pushing this thing away with cuts of his curved blade, he slowly collapsed to the floor as if woozy. Apparently, the head wound was now taking its toll; he was out cold!

Nanith was having his own problems because his aim with his crossbow on the battle was errant. Trying to avoid hitting his companions, he fired two bolts that missed the enemy entirely and clattered to the far end of the round room.

Loten grimaced in pain � We must hold!� He lashed out and pierced the guard through the chest; the whole weapon's edge easily knifing through the rotten armor and flaking flesh.

Removing a wooden flask from his leather pouch, Teflar flipped the stopper off with his thumb and downed the mintyll elixir in a quick gulp. A sentry blade deflected off his right shoulder during a sudden coughing fit.

As the battle neared its climax, Roslyn slid down the rope like a tiny spider and dropped into the heat of the fighting.