Gypsy Magic

Gypsy Magic is the second encounter in Muri Mortuorum.
==Enemies==
*Skeleton Mage (1235 Gold, 152 XP, 95 Energy, 7 HP)
* Zombie Mage (1235 Gold, 152 XP, 95 Energy, 7 HP)
==Transcript==
===Introduction===
Rina wondered if her steed would make it back. She hoped so. The mare had served her well, and horseflesh was valuable among the qypsy clans.
The soldiers had left their animals in the squires' charge rather than try to drive them through the sinister maze. Rina haden't. After seeing the heart ripped from the soldier's body, a presentiment had gripped her. The von Malhavens' dominion was awash with death. Hers might just become another among them, a single demise lost and entomed amid myriad others. Even if she emerged unscathed, and the freiherr's campaign proved victorious, there was no saying what would become of the squires -- unhardened youths alone in a dangerous land. Zombies might already have fallen upon them, for all the gypsy knew, and at that very moment have been feasting on their corpses.
So she'd wisper in the mare's ear, and sent her running. If no harm befell her, she'd find her way back to the clan. And if Rina needed another mount to carry her home later, she'd find one -- steal one, if necessary. Other West Krunans said that a gypsy never starved or walked while they had hands to steal. She'd be glad enough to prove them right.
A soldier bumped into her. The hard metal surface of his pauldron invoked a burst of pain in her shoulder.
"Vatch you step, gypsy whore!" He almost shrieked the words, his voice high and shrill like a woman's.
 Rina murmured a apology though the fault had been his. It was no time to argue -- not with the men so frantic. They huddled in the middle of the passage, well away from the walls, and stared at the heaped, packed bones as if they might come for the soldiers at any moment.
Ludwig had divided his forces, and sent each group into a different opening. He'd reassured that their numbers would be useless in such close confines, and that they had no way of knowing which routes -- if any -- might lead to an exit on the opposite side. The men hadn't seemed convinced. The whitting of their numbers had only made them more anxious. Now their guantleted fingers bit into the handles of their weapons, and Rina was sure their fingers were pale and bloodless underneath.
"Help! Commander! Help!"
The scout's words tore through the ominous silence and sent the soldiers into an absurd shuffle -- as they tried to take up battle positions whilst each vying for the middle, those at the edges pressing back so as to remain as far from the walls as possible. 
An instant later the man followed his voice, sprinting down the passage towards them. Rina's eyes met his. There was a terrible panic on his face, a dreadful expression she was sure would remain etched into her memories till her dying day. Then it was gone. His expression, his face, his life.
===Conclusion===
"Know you, gypsy!" the zombie moaned. "Know you! Red spots!"
The taunt made Rina freeze, and almost cost the gypsy girl her life. Perhaps the zobie had been counting on that. But he was disappointed. Her body reacted even as her mind reeled, and sprang clear of the shadow-ball. The maneuver brought her close to the wall. Skeletal hands reached from its crevices. But they were overeager. She was still well beyond their reach. 
Red spots...The sign of her people, worn in combat and celebration alike. There were three in Rina's face, though they'd been marred by the sweat and grime of travel and battle.
"Not welcome!" the zombie howled. "Order of the markgraf!"
Another ball of shadow flew from his staff, a seething mass of blackness that seemed to writhe with miniature tentacles. This time Rina rolled away from the wall. It burst against the bones, blasting some of the extended limbs away. The gypsy hazarded a glance where it had struck. The outstreched arms had been broken, but the wall itself was unscathed. She wondered what sorcery that entailed. But only for a split-second. Then her eyes were back on the zombie.
The other undead mage, the skeleton, was ignoring her. So she could ignore it, for the moment at least. its magic rained down on the soldiers, who were advancing behind their sheilds. The devices on the bulwarks' surfaces shimmered with each eldritch bombardment. The freiherr had anticipated magical attacks from the von Malhavens...
Dodging was keeping her alive against the zombie. But she couldn't win the fight by dodging. So she charged.
The staff whispered its dark missile once more. Rina rolled under it, and rose back into her sprint. By her count, it was taking the zombie's weapon longer to fire each time. Perhaps it was near drained...
She was close to the zombie when his staff spoke again. This time he feinted -- pointing it at her face before sending the bolt down at her legs. Cunning, for a zombie, she mused. Not cunning enough for a gypsy. She jumped.
Rina's body twined itself around his like a serpent, or as though the hideous corpse were her lover instead of her foe. Her long legs grasped his body. Her torso twisted around him until she was clinging to his back.
"Ve're called the Balval Churi, dinlio," she hissed.
Then the gypsy drove a knife into the base of his skull. She dropped onto her feet as the zombie collapsed, his brainstem severed.
The skeleton mage's head moved in rapid, snapping motions. It looked at Rina, at the soldiers, and back at Rina. Its staff moved through the air, the glowing energy at its tip relinquishing its aim on the advancing warriors and coming round to target the gypsy.
"Koro!"Rina spoke the word and spat in the same breath.
The blob of saliva was as true as her blades. In her clan, children learned to spit with the accuracy os a master slinger. It struck the skeleton in the glowing socket where its right eye had once been. 
The spittle disappeared inside its skull. The red glow became dull and hazy, within both its sockets. Rina didn't know how a skeleton's vision worked. Perhaps merely spitting in one's eyes would blind it, perhaps it wouldn't. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that the cantrip worked. The undead creature's teeht chattered as it groped around confused. Sightless.
The soldiers broke into a run. In an instant one of them was next to the blinded skeleton. He swung his warhammer. The creature's ribcage and spine exploded.
Commander Ludwig strode towards the gypsy. He raised his faceplate, revealing the same deep purple ire the Rina had begun to think of as his natural countenance.
"Vitch!" he exclaimed.
Category: Muri Mortuorum