Gruffydd took the brunt of the rat swarm, but soon others jumped in. It involved more smashing, squashing and flailing than real fighting.
Gustav was able to call upon his god to heal the minor scrapes and bites. What he couldn't fix, a few healing potions did.
That room yielding only a few coins amongst the refuse, they moved to the next room. There, in the dark, something shuffled and moved. The torchlight revealed and figure clad in once rich robes, now turned to rags. Shining through the filth something glittered. The creature wore a heavy chain of gold and brilliant silver gauntlets.
The thing itself hissed. It was the color of a deathly ill man. Its hands ended in razor sharp claws. It's eyes, burning red coals of hate.
Gustav pushed his way to the front. "Back! Back spawn of hell!" He thrust forth talisman and prayed to Arnor for strength.
A hideous cackling that sounded came from the ghoul. "Not strong enough....for me..."
Pulp Fantasy Library: The Mirrors of Tuzun Thune
2 hours ago