Goblins of the Fellreeve Forest

Travelers who make it far enough north Beyond the Wall, might encounter an enormous, dark wood known as the Fellreeve. As if the sheer size wasn't daunting enough (it would take weeks on foot to cross it), most of it's denizens are bent on the demise of said travelers.
Some of the worst creatures stalking the Feelreeve's dark shadows and haunted places are the Goblins. "Goblins?" you scoff. Though a single goblin is not a danger to most seasoned adventurers, they rarely appear in small numbers. In the past, the Empire had a strict policy of extermination when it came to goblins. Left to their own devices, they tended to breed like rats, overrunning many settlements by sheer numbers. The goblins of the Fellreeve have been left alone for decades. There they have grown to staggering numbers.
Being a cantankerous lot, once their numbers grew, the goblins starting fighting. They quickly split into several factions and tribes. Currently, three tribes fight for dominance; the Broken Tooth, the Blood Moon and Crooked Blade tribes.
It is this infighting that has saved Wall from an onslaught of goblin hordes. If a leader should arise, strong enough to unite these warring factions, Wall would certainly shudder under their weight.

A dark dream

When she awoke, it was not her cramped, dirty room at the Hole. She lay beside a rushing river in the height of Summer. It was the Brindleshins, the river of her youth. The summer rains had swollen the river, but it was a hot, and often children snuck down to the 'Shins to cool off, despite their parent's warnings.
Today was such a day. She and her younger brother, Roderick, were supposed to be weeding the garden, but the heat had got to them and they dodged Mother to run down to the bank.
But, when they got there, even they were surprised by how swiftly the current was. Her brother paused on a rock jutting out into the dark water. He looked back at her hesitantly, waiting for the okay from his big sister.
Then she saw him. He was on the far bank. A handsome man. She had seen few humans in the seclusion of the Moot, but she knew one when she saw them. He was tall and well dressed. He had a sword on his belt and gold rings. Around his neck hung a single gold key.
He smiled at her.
He beckoned. Not for her, but for her brother. Roderick didn't seem to see the stranger across the river. She knew she had to help this man with whatever he wanted. He seemed so nice. "What's that, you want my brother to swim across to you? He doesn't want to go, but I'll make him, for you. " Just a little push...
This time Miss Adventure woke in the Hole. Screaming.

the Lord of Dreams and Eternal Slumber

The servants of Mohr wordlessly took Gildrid along with all the halfling's money. They would keep watch over his body, and plead with their Master for the return of his soul. There was chance, ever so slight, that the fell creature who struck him down, would claim his body. Gildrid could return one of two ways, as himself, or as wight, possessed of a dark malice, but no soul.
That night, Miss Adventure returned to her bed at the Hole. Those who had seen her leave with Gildrid early that morning said nothing to her on her return. Word had travelled fast that their expedition had ended badly. No one, it seemed, wanted their luck to rub off on them.
She slept fitfully. Her dreams were filled with visions of the horror in the crypt, but also of a tall gaunt man in gray robes and a hood. Over the next few nights, she dreamed less of the ancient warrior and more of the man in robes. He appeared carrying a lamp and a sword. Around his neck hung a single key of ancient brass. Each night he drew closer. One night she dreamed he approached on a dark road. In the night sky above, the stars raced too quickly. The man came closer. He smelled of the cold, damp earth. Of his face she could only see a pointed chin jut out from beneath his hood. Grey skin stretched across a painfully thin frame, yet she sense about him a great power. He stooped and leaned to meet her face to face. Through yellowed teeth he spoke, "Remember me, little one?" His voice was like the rustling leaves on an Autumn night.
Miss Adventure's mind raced. Remember him? I think I'd recall someone like him.
"No?" he spoke again, "maybe this will help you..."
He threw back his hood.

Run, run, run, as fast as you can...

With the creature's rising, the tomb had become cold. Mist was creeping from the floor like grasping, skeletal hands. Gildrid struggled against the ancient warrior's grip, stabbing and slashing at it. Miss Adventure leapt at Goroth, burying a dagger deep in his back. He howled with indignation, and released Gildrid from his grasp so that he could swing with both hands at the little halfling.
All the while Otto merely watched, uncertain what to do. He had been in fights before, but never faced horrors such as this. He backed towards the entrance further, his foot resting on the bottom step.
Gildrid and Miss Adventure traded blows with the fell creature. The strikes that landed seemed to do little or no damage, and all the time the tomb grew colder.
"Give up, little heroes," Goroth rasped, though his lips did not move, "your feeble weapons cannot harm me. Join my dark crusade, and live forever!"
With that shout he drove his arcane blade deep into Gildrid's side. The elf dropped his blade and sunk to the floor. Otto flew up the steps and out into the daylight.

Miss Adventure screamed and threw her torch at the monster. Flames exploded on the thing. Goroth flailed at the flames, his filthy rags feeding the fire. During the distraction, the halfling began dragging the much bigger elf towards, then up, the stairs.
She was out of breath when she reached the daylight, cursing Otto the entire time. Just then, the thief arrived with the horses. He had somehow goaded them against their instincts to approach the tomb. Wordlessly, they hauled Gildrid up and over a saddle. In moments they were riding hard back to Wall. Miss Adventure stole a look over her shoulder before they left the entrance to the tomb. A smoldering Goroth glared from the darkness with coal-hot, burning red eyes.
They reached Wall by nightfall. They would have rode harder, but feared the bouncing might harm the elf more. Gildrid had not stirred during the ride. They could old Sergeant Malloy shaking his head as they road past. He had seen this scene time and again.
They took Gildrid to the Temple of Shayalla, goddess of healing and suffering. The high priestess merely shook her head and said, "he is too far gone for us. We shall weep for him. Maybe you should visit instead, the Temple of Mohr."
Miss Adventure gasped. Mohr was the dread Lord of Death.

Day of the Dead Pt3 (Death in the Dark)

Miss Adventure went first. She and Gildrid decided to put Otto between them, in case he decided to take off again. Shoe reached the bottom of the stairs first. The ceiling was low. Not low enough tall Gildrid had to stoop, but low enough swinging a sword could be difficult. Eight alcoves lined the walls, four to each side. Four were empty, and four contained silent figures in tattered armor. In the center was a low sarcophagus. On it's lid was a simple relief carving of a great warrior grasping a sword to his chest.
As all three reached the landing, the four figures in the alcoves sprang to life. Or, un-life. Four zombies, similar to the ones they had fought in the hills shambled forward. Gildrid drew his bow. Snap! "Dang!", he yelled as the spring snapped.
Otto, to the surprise of Gildrid and Miss Adventure charged the closest zombie. He swung high, forgetting the height of the ceiling. Clang! Snap!. His battleaxe snapped against the ceiling. While he stood cursing, a zombie swung at him, but missed,
Miss Adventure charged past and clove the leg off another undead. It dropped to the floor but still attacked her. Gildrid cast aside his bow, and drew his sword.
In the ensuing fight. Otto fell back to the door and cowered, uncertain whether to run for the horses or stay and help, brandishing his meager dagger. Gildrid and Miss Adventure hacked and stabbed, finishing the four zombies but sustaining a few wounds of their own. In the struggle the lid of the sarcophagus had been knocked loose. With the combined strength of all three adventurers, the lid finally slid off and hit the floor.
Inside, a long dead warrior lay. His skin was gray and desiccated, his armor tarnished with age.
There was a flash of bronze, and an arm shot forth grasping Gildrid's throat. The elf dropped his sword and tried to struggle free form the dead warrior's grasp. The creature rose from his tomb, eyes glowing a malevolent red. His jaw opened, but no lips moved as he spoke.
"Who dares enter the tomb of Goroth the mighty, slayer of kings?"

Day of Dead Pt2 (the Tomb)

Gildrid drew back and released an arrow. It hit the lead zombie with an audible "thunk". The creature rasped, but trudged on. Miss Adventure pulled her short free of its scabbard, let loose a high pitched battle
cry and charged forward. Her blade missed and her momentum carried her forward into the second zombie, knocking them both down in a pile. The monster clawed at her, and snapped with yellowed, broken teeth. The rest of the zombies sensed a closer prey and began to surround the halfling.
Otto and Gildrid now drew their weapons and charged. Gildrid's blade cleaved deep into the skull of the zombie he had already pierced with an arrow. Black gore erupted from it's shattered skull as it dropped motionless to the ground.
Otto swung wildly with a battleaxe. He missed, and the zombie he swung at, turned to thrust back at him with a bronze tipped spear. Otto gave a yelp, and ran for the horses.
"Get back here you jerk!" came a muffled cry from between two zombies. Miss Adventure was sandwiched between snapping jaws and clawing fingers. She was jabbing repeatedly at the zombie she was intertwined with on the ground, while trying to keep another at arms length.
While Otto tried to unstake the horses, Gildrid dispatched the zombie with the spear. The creature beneath Miss Adventure finally ceased moving and another well placed thrust from Gildrid finished the final zombie.
"Thanks a lot, Otto, " Miss Adventure yelled as she pushed a limp zombie from atop her.
"Hey, I just thought we might need the horses if things went bad." the thief replied.
Gildrid searched through the rotting corpses, swatting away flies and trying not to gag on the stench. He found only scraps of rotting clothes and dented bronze armor.
"They came from that way" Miss Adventure said as she pointed over the hill. "That's where we should go."
They gathered the skittish horses and road up the hill and over. In the valley below stood a group of standing stones. The horses were reluctant to go much further, so they tied them to one of the closer stones.
Centered amid the tall stone obelisks was a low slab. A set of stairs led to a dark entrance beneath it.
As the party moved closer, they could see the flat stone door that had once enclosed the tomb, was now pushed to the side. Miss Adventure wordlessly lit a torch, started down the stairs...

(Side note: I recently had an incident where our garage freezer went out and it was weeks before we noticed. The stench was overwhelming when I open it. Within minutes of throwing the meat away, thousands of lies covered the garbage bag. So I realized two things Hollywood zombie films haven't got right yet. One, you'd smell the undead way before you saw them, and that's if secondly you didn't hear the constant droning of flies. Zombies should be covered in the little buggers.)

Day of the Dead (A New Adventure)

It was the beginning of summer when Otto the Thief arrived in Wall. As is custom, he made his arrival known to the local Thieve's Guild. Of course, operating in a city without consent from the locals would have been a death sentence otherwise. He paid his dues, and went to where the local footpads and gutter snipes assured him he could find an expedition Beyond the Wall. A tavern known as the Hole.

He found self described adventurers aplenty, but none who had actually gone Beyond the Wall. None except for two. Otto found them arguing very animatedly with each other, One was a female halfling standing on a stool , shaking a piece of cheese, almost like a weapon at her tormentor. He was an elf. Tall and lank, as is their kind, with blond hair and new scar still healing on his cheek.

They became quiet when Otto approached. "Were they up for an expedition?", Otto asked. "Yes" was the reply. They had been rotting in this awful heat, running low on gold and the good graces of the Hole's management with their constant bickering. They were Miss Adventure and Gildrid the Elf.

The next morning was hot. The iron fittings on the great gates were hot to the touch. The Wall itself simmered in the heat. No wind blew Beyond the Wall. The grass of the hills surrounding the Old Road were yellowing and dry. The travelled slowly, trying to save their horses if need arose for a quick getaway. They sweated in their armor. They had nearly finished all their water when they reached the dryad Newly's tree.

Otto and Gildrid rested in the tree's shade, while Miss Adventure sought out Newly. "Newly", she called. "Newly, you have a new friend". The little dryad appeared, looking little more than a child. 

"A new friend?" she asked. When Miss Adventure gestured towards Otto, Newly made a face like she ate something bad. "I don't like the looks of him. Are you sure he's my friend?"

Otto scowled.

The dryad melted into the tree, almost disappearing except now her face was knot in

the tree's bark. 

"Newly, have any more bad men been around?" the halfling asked, referring to their last meeting, which had involved flight from some bandits. 

"No" was her reply. But a party of goblins had passed nearby on their way towards Wall. They hadn't returned. 

"Ask her if she knows about any treasure around", Gildrid said.

"Shut up, dufus, I do the talking around here!" Miss Adventure yelled back. She turned and gave her brightest smile. "Newly, from atop your glorious tree, can you see any places? Any places that might be of interest to us. Temples? Graveyards?"

The dryad brightened. "Oh yes!" she seemed exited when she thought she was helping. "To the north, there are standing stones. Does mean anything?"

"Perfect" Miss Adventure said as she picked up her pack. "Newly, is there any way we can pay you back for the help you've given us.?"

Before she could answer Gildrid spoke up. " I have some gold..."

Miss Adventure rolled her eyes. "Gold? Really? What's a dryad gonna do with gold, dummy? Gawd, you're elf. You're supposed to know this stuff."

"Actually," Newly spoke up. "The monsters. The ones that killed the men who destroyed my forest. They took something. Seeds. I need them to replant my trees. They're magic. The monsters went north long ago, but maybe you can still find them."

"Done." Miss Adventure said. They had mounted their weary horses and were headed north along the road. Soon, the sun was beating down again. Otto was listing in his saddle, and Gildrid was trying to get the last drops of water from his water skin. Tilting back the skin, he looked up and saw a lone buzzard circling above. That's when the horses stopped and an awful smell reached them. "Is that you?" Gildrid looked towards Miss Adventure waving hand in front of his face. He got a smile from Otto and a scowl form the halfling.

They were in a low defile between hills. Turning to pinpoint the smell Otto was the first to spot four figures cresting a hill, headed straight for them. Whoever they were, they weren't in a hurry.  The shambled down the hill with a strange gait.

The party gathered their horses and tied them to a stake hastily pounded into the ground. They realized the stench was coming from the strangers. That, and a horde of flies that followed them.

Gildrid drew his bow. "I may not know much about dryads, but I know zombies when I see them..."