Straight out attack against the forces of the revenants was impossible, even for adepts of their strength and skills, to draw attention to themselves would call down even greater forces. Walls broken and homes in smoldering ruins of black ash, Elyria crept along silently with Rhyn, aware of her surroundings, a silver metal-shaped blade in hand. Words weren’t spoken, perpetual silence reigning as they got ever closer to their destination, taking out whatever forces of undeath they couldn’t bypass and leaving those they could, aware that whatever enemy they left behind could later be a Thorne in their flesh.