Investigating the old keep has turned up pit traps, goblins and hobgoblins, and rats and devil hounds. The few hours we have so far spent working through enemy-infested rooms have taken their toll on the party, with our Warlord's healing surges fully depleted and others running out quickly. It is time to rest. Rather than trying to find somewhere in the keep quiet enough to let us lay low for hours, with Winterhaven only a couple of hours away and it being early afternoon we head back to town to get a hearty meal and good night's rest in an inn.
The journey back to Winterhaven is uneventful, with no interruptions on the road, but as the town comes in to view we see that something is amiss. The gates are firmly shut and the town wall has guards stationed on it at regular intervals, all quite alert. The mayor himself is atop the wall and, once we are spied and close enough, comes down to greet us at the gate. 'My friends, we are in peril! Townsfolk have been dragged off by the living dead, zombies that have arisen from the graveyard!'
'Oh, right. We should probably head over to Felcrest to get some rest. Thanks for the warning, mayor.'
'Yeah, we're a bit tired. Can it wait until the morning?'