Victory in the Crypt -or- You're in a Heap of Trouble Now

(Are we getting a short rest in here? cause that would be kick-ass)
Arthas jumped as Olek spoke, obviously still tense from the recent fight "Oh, ah, thank you... Though I have to say, I was glad to save myself too." Arthas inspected the open wound on his shoulder, probing it gingerly with his finger "Do you think there's many more in here with us? Maybe we ought to deal with uh.. that one.." pointing at the dead woman clawing uselessly at the interior of her coffin.

((A Hit Die is a die of HP that you have as a result of your level in a class. During a short rest (a period of relative inactivity lasting at least an hour), PCs can spend Hit Dice to regain HP-- a bard has a d8 hit die. A level 2 bard has 2d8 hit dice. What that means is a level 2 bard can expend his 2 hit dice to regain 2d8+CON mod HP. The only thing you "lose" is the ability to use those Hit Dice to regain HP again during a short rest-- hence the stipulation that you regain them after a long rest.

For example:
Olek is a level 1 rogue, level 1 fighter. He has a d8 and d10 Hit Die. If we were taking a short rest, and Olek was in dire need of recovery, he could expend his d10, regaining 1d10+2 HP during the short rest. Let's say later he gets injured again and another short rest is taken. Olek has used his d10 Hit Die but still has his d8, so he expends it to regain 1d8+2 HP during the short rest. Let's say that he gets injured again after that-- tough shit for Olek! He used all his Hit Dice, and needs to take a long rest (8 hours of relative inactivity) before being able to use them again. However, even though he used his Hit Dice, he remained a level 1 rogue and level 1 fighter.

Good or no?))

Snapping a small journal shut and tucking away a quill and vial of ink in a leather bundle, Olek walked over to Mercator. "Archie-- can I call you that? Mercator sounds like another word where I am from." He looked at the wafer the map collector ponderously ate, as if the process was nothing but the calculated maintenance of his body, much like a farmer sharpens his tools after using them-- not because he loves to, but because he works better with sharp implements. "I personally have no ties to the traditions held by the people here." He looked at Arthas as well, now. "I think if the dead-- pardon, undead, have potential to hurt us, we should take care of them before potential turns actual." He looked meaningfully towards the coffin in which the skeleton scraped for its freedom.

"The way I see it, there are two ways. One, we find each skeleton and destroy it, and tell these villagers their sacred dead were desecrated with dark sorcery anyway. Two, we find what is driving these skeletons. I am not greatly knowledgeable in the strange powers some of you wield, but I do know it takes a spell or enchantment to do something like this, and that spells and enchantments have limits. Earlier, Arthas and I talked about the potential of this Syphon being the cause of this. Only an idea. Maybe if we remove it from this crypt and store it in that special box Sir Weston gave us, the dead will sleep again." He looked around at the rest of the group, shrugging. "Only an idea."

Having said all he intended to, he went back to the sconce where his torch burned and commenced picking his fingernails clean with a dagger.

"Archie. Archie...," a wistful Mercator replied, as if to himself. "In my youth the other boys called me Arch, wanting me to be an arch demon (shudders) in our boyhood games. That is acceptable, of course." Then he sank back into thoughts that seemed distant, and a troubled look came over his face. "If we die in here, there is no hope for Octavie." A new determination seemed to wash over him, though his mood remained dark.

"When we are rested, I think a thorough investigation of this room is in order. Then, the termination of these corpses."