laneys.info Beware of Yankees, drunks, and loose women.

Joined by Alandria, the small group rode east through the trees. The trail was practically non-existent, yet another tribute to the unnatural talents of their quarry. However, Lisa had explained that only young ones were so violent and so they wouldn’t be far away. Vampires, Sceva thought, were a lot like sword fighters – either bold or old, but not both.

Soon, the group approached the crumbling ruins of an old church. Ancient and weathered rocks still formed the outline of the cemetery wall just north of the old bell tower. Row after row of mossy tombstones stood in silent testimony of a sizable town, now abandoned and reclaimed by the forest. The air hung in a heavy silence as they emerged from the trees.

"Do you hear that," Alandria asked. "It sounds like music."

Sure enough, as they drew nearer to the decrepit doors, the sounds of solemn, sorrowful lute music reached their ears. Following the sound, they found a man – or the remains of one - sitting upon a tombstone and serenading them with his funeral song.

"What is it," Alandria asked.

"It’s a dirge," Lericanin said, readying his hammer.

"A dirge is an undead minstrel," Alister explained. "It hopes to lure in the unwary so it can mesmerize them and drain their life energy. They’re often used as sentries or guards by other evil creatures."

"Stay alert for zombies," Sceva warned, drawing his sword. "The dirge’s victims turn into zombies when their life energy is completely drained."

As the five warriors approached, the dirge looked up from his lute. Just as Lericanin swung, the dirge disappeared from atop the tombstone. It reappeared behind them, wielding a rusty bastard sword. Faced with four battle-hardened knights, however, the fight ended quickly with the defeat of the undead bard.

"It was a lousy song anyway," Sceva quipped.