Tamrissa draws the Kurusunami, the slow shing of metal making her cringe as they step into the rows of silent buildings. Her aura pales considerably at the feel of death so close. She gives a worried furrow of her brow to Soul as he coughs, watching as he spits blood out at the end of the hacking spasm. Just as she reaches out a hand to steady him or help him, he fends them all off with a demand to let him alone. Watching him a moment longer, she goes back to looking around the seemingly deserted village.
As the ill-looking villager leaps forward, she belts out her aura to shield herself, but then quickly softens it. She drops to one knee, turning her head to study her companion.

Plague? Why should that scare an immortal so much? she quirks her lips sardonically at Soul with the mindspeak, then adds outloud. “Or are you affected by disease…unlike most?

She glances back towards the desperate man, watching him speak through dry cracked lips covered in sores. Pity wells up inside, but she stays back, trusting Soul’s judgement on the matter. When the poor victim of the plague finally passes, she feels a small amount of relief and silently sends peace along with the departing spirit. With a sigh, she stands and is about to make a bitter remark about the deaths here not being Stavarus’s fault this time, but Soul’s sudden cry makes her snap her head up to watch the heaps of dead rise.

“Gods! They are dead! What has raised them? And what triggered them to raise?”

The Kuru comes down to strike off a head, pus and skin landing with thick plops on the ground.

Fei.

Flinching as a glob of black splatters across her left shoulder and neck, she continues to cut the stumbling, trudging skeletal blobs of ooze into pieces. Vines leap from the ground, tearing violently at the bodies and only succeeding in crippling them slightly before the plague turns the plant-life into a mess of shriveled black goop and decaying brown. The ground gives out underneath a few of them, swallowing them up to their chests. But, just as the vines died from the touch, the earth rejects them, allowing them to pull themselves free after a few short moments of holding them.

“It is not natural at all. The earth will not even reclaim them in death,” she says matter-of-factly.

While the others slash and beat at the rotting corpses, she pauses her blade to lift her hand with a ball of glowing energy pulsating with bright green flares. Her lips move with silent mouthing of ancient language and her curls fly back as the pale fire rolls from her fingertips and explodes into a cluster of the dead. One or two of them go down and the rest merely have some of the ooze cleaned from them.

“Our spells are not much against them eith-“ she begins to say to Soul as she raises the Kuru once more.

Ducking slightly as foul matter rains down on her, she throws wide eyes back towards Gulver. Not knowing whether to speak a thank you or scold him for taunting her, she is interrupted by the sound of a corpse approaching and she goes back to fighting…