A slight man trails the Captain, you recognise the translator who always accompanies him, tasked with translating the Captain's words to Mulhorandi so that you can comprehend him. "They come, finally. A horde straight from the Abyss that drives all before it and draws these unliving in to swell it's ranks" he speaks in southern-accented Chondathan as he gestures to the multitude of shambling humanoid and animal corpses that mill beneath the citadel walls, drawn by the breath of the living within. "As if this wasn't enough".

He shields his eyes from the morning sun and looks to the nearby hills. Even these expanses of rock and dirt shift and ripple with the aimless shuffling of the undead upon them.

"When the ledger's tallied we'll give a good account for ourselves. If it buys time for the coin-priests to find a weakness, so be it." In a time of ordinary battle Captain Krimmevol would be a good leader and capable commander. But this is not an ordinary battle and it is painfully obvious that the Captain and his soldiers have little chance against a relentless tide of undead. Minor coin-adepts move through the ranks pressing coppers to the foreheads of the troopers as they administer Waukeen's blessings.

Movement at the crest of the nearby hills sends ripples through the ranks of corpses as they are driven forward, something behind them forcing them onward, many falling and being trampled as they run out of space. Dark shapes flit on the horizon, bat-like demons and worse flying above the Abyssal host. Larger creatures appear over the crest, undead or demons, whatever they are carelessly carving a path through the lesser forms around them. Shadows envelop the land as the bloated atropal moon above eclipses the morning sun.

All of a sudden it is on, the mass of zombies moving forward in unison to smash upon the lower walls of the citadel. Bolts, arrows and fire rain down taking a dreadful toll but the horde keeps coming oblivious to the destruction. "Do what you can", Captain Krimmevol moves to his men, commanding squads along the fortifications all the while ensuring that the reserves are held back ready to plug any breach.

The cry of one of the priests cuts through the din of the siege and your attention is drawn to ghostly shapes weaving and flowing across the horde below. Deathly shrieks ring out from the ghastly apparitions and what few trees remain on the slopes visibly wither. Two of the incorporeal things flit up to the battlements nearby, arrows passing clean through them as they drift toward a ballista crew. With a horrific wail a dozen soldiers fall instantly dead about them, and more stumble dropping their weapons and cowering at the impending doom...it's up to you to defend the walls!

Spoiler: Info
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Initiative
Banshees (1d20+7)[23]
Anhur (1d20+14)[17]
Zarthon (1d20+12)[16]
Nanashi (1d20+4)[12]
Saderran (1d20+3)[17]

All long-term buffs can be pre-cast if desired.

Banshees fly 80ft forward

Banshee 1 horrific appearance vs all. Fort DC 26 or permanently lose (1d4)[4] Str, (1d4)[4] Dex & (1d4)[3] Con
Banshee 1 wail vs all. Fort DC 26 or die.

Banshee 2 horrific appearance vs all. Fort DC 26 or permanently lose (1d4)[1] Str, (1d4)[4] Dex & (1d4)[2] Con
Banshee 2 wail vs all. Fort DC 26 or die.

Spoiler: Map
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Banshees are elevated 10ft above ground


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