Utterly Mad

Ferret had indeed toppled one of the candlabra. The body she had tipped it onto flailed helplessly in her direction, but could move no further. The wall of withered faces had several gaps, perhaps wide enough to dash through. She made for one but had to make a hasty retreat as a decay crusted claw grabbed out at her from the loose crowd. She gave a sudden cry of surprise when she discovered one of them had moved up to the altar and had only alerted her to it's presence when it inadvertantly pushed a pewter bowl from it's top. She gave the thing a stab in the eye and was surprised as her blow sparked off a plate in it's skull. She turned quickly, slashing the leg out from under one who had tried it's luck, and using the momentum of the turn cleaved the altar climbers jaw from hinge to hinge. It fell back but that gave her an idea. She judged the hight of the altar. Knee high, perhaps a little higher than that. She was no athlete, but she was sure she could make it work. She had seen the Zantian circus performers perform similar maneuvers off of piles of fire wood. She backed up, there would be no fancy flourish to this, only the hope that she could clear the thickening horde around her. She ran, put her right foot on the altar, pushed off in a great leap, and hoped to the gods that she wouldn't land on her sword. For the moment she was airborne, she wondered why she hadn't thought to sheath it first. To her credit, the jump carried her beyond the thickest portion of those grasping hands and teeth. She didn't land on her sword either. Unfortunately, it didn't take her all the way out of the group though and as she landed on solid ground she felt a sudden sharp pain in her ankle. She collapsed and rolled, howling in pain. Ferret managed to get under one pew and then roll from that position to another. Her ankle was an agony. The undead had lost sight of her, but it would only take a moment for them to figure out where she had gone. She used that moment to sit up and inspect her injury, and lamented that she had left her light on the altar. The flesh was tender and it would surely begin to swell, but it was not broken. She had to move, had to get towards the front of the chapel and she wouldn't allow this to stop her. Not after she had gone through all the trouble and certainly not after she had actually obtained what she had come for. All she had to do was escape. The pew gave her something to lean on as she tested her footing. She could probably walk on it, but it would be a misery. Something grabbed for her in the dark but it seemed it's vision was just as bad as hers and it missed by inches. She clove the hand in half and pushed the shambler behind it to the floor. At the end of the pews Ferret rounded a pillar and it was then that she realized that the undead were not the only things hiding in the darkness of the chapel.