Jhoric managed to pull out of the wall of flailing leathery bones without incident, the corpses's attacks as clumsy as their gait.
It took little time for Jhoric to get among his friends, who had surged up up to the help him. The stumbling horde moved up and Gideon's sword found easy prey in the dry corpses. Each sword swing smashing two into leathery shards. Jhoric blasted away, his bolts punching through the corpses, often managing to shatter more then one. Balin's short legs proved no disadvantage as he was easily able to outpace the corpses. Toboran's spear seemed ineffective against the corpses, until he simply swung it like a staff and was knocking them down also. Fafnir's scimitar was similarly effective, and he smashed them down nearly as fast as Gideon.
Though being shattered like clay pots, the corpses had numbers, and were beginning to surround the party, though more from simple desire to attack then any guile.
Then, Jhoric was startled to hear from his left hand, which still bore the string of shrunken heads, "Pass!", and the remaining corpses simply fell where they stood, clattering down and raising dust. Gideon was in mid-swing when his target simply disassembled and provided no substance for his blow. He nearly stumbled and his passenger was nearly dislodged.
"Clumsy ogre," sputtered Eswick, "Trying to kill me?"
The party found themselves again alone with the dead.
