When you hear about skeletons coming out of the ground, you subconsciously expect them to do it nice and slow. Not these things; they ripped themselves out of their mass grave with clods of dirt and stones flying everywhere, their bones crackling with purple-green flames. Raw magic, harsh and already starting to discharge.
We might have all died on the spot if it wasn’t for Yuri. The first skeleton was gathering to leap upon us when a steel chest smashed through its ribcage and scattered its bones. The orc didn’t wait to see the result; he charged the skeletons, screaming an invocation of the Magdalene as he ran. Magic exploded all around him as he swung a mace in wild sweeps.
That was time enough for the rest of us, barely. I muttered quick shield cantrips as I shook loose my bullwhip: there was a short-sword at my belt, but for this I wanted something with a bit more reach. Besides, it’s traditional.