The brilliant orange sun was just beginning to set on the horizon as I was out on a leisurely stroll through the countryside clad in the usual garb of plate armor, heavy boots and flaming sword of smiting when I came across a bit of a ruckus. At first, I paid no heed. Hearing a ruckus out along the countryside is a usual sort of thing, what with all the undead and kobolds running around stirring things up. But the noise didn’t die down in the usual way a skirmish dies down once someone gets a fireball in the eye and runs home saying, “it really didn’t hurt and no I’m not crying.”

Despite my better judgment and knowledge of how these sorts of things turn out, I decided to investigate further. At first I made my way toward the noise only to realize I was going the wrong way. The echo of the rocks can be deceiving, but once on the right track I made a rather bizarre discovery.

Out in middle of a field, with no one around, I came across a stone sarcophagus with several red candles arrange in a circle. Or perhaps it was a square. It matters not, but my suspicion was immediately raised. This is not the sort of thing you do in a moment of spontaneity. Indeed, this looked to be the sort of thing you plan out and then put together if you might happen to be trying to raise the dead under the guise of darkness by the light of the full moon. Sinister business to be sure.

Before I could ruminate on the matter further, a drove of skeletons leaped from the ground with an intent, I do believe, to place me within this stone container as some sort of trophy or sacrifice. Either way, I would have none of it!

I assumed my usual attack position, but seeing there was no where to run, I turned to face my aggressors. My trusty sword blazed in the darkness of the night and cast and eerie glow across their devilish white bones. It was at this point I realized I was quite outnumbered and perhaps it might be best for all concerned to simply spare myself the pain and suffering and get in the box. I’ve been in worse places.

But no! I gathered my wits and lashed out in random directions. By lucky happenstance I connected with one of the boney devils. The first blow was mine and I followed it up with another wild and random strike. Fortune favors the misguided and I once again found my target causing him a savage injury.

After several more lunges, he was down on the ground, bones shattered and broken. The Sword of Smiting was in full swing and found it’s next mark. He too crumbled to dust and I batted his head across the field out of nothing more than sheer malice. Mind you, it had good distance.

To my surprise, a mage decided to join in the festivities and set me ablaze with those diabolical fireballs they always seem to cast with great accuracy.

With singed leggings, I dashed behind a series of large boulders for cover. This may have saved my eyebrows, but the skeletons followed suit. But their numbers had decreased and I was able to make a fine showing.

Using my rather impressive skills with Double Slash, meaning I didn’t trip over myself, I was able to crush the onslaught. And with my quick thinking, I used my own fiery powers to ignite the ground and reduce their bones to ash. I’m used to dancing in the ring of fire, these skeletons however, were not.

Then it was off to deal with that fireball throwing miscreant.

As I bounded over the rocks, his smirk of satisfaction at setting me on fire turned to concern over his own self-preservation. He took to his heels and I gave chase all over the countryside. It’s amazing how fast those skeletons can run when they want to and death is on the line.

But I kept at him, striking when I could, launching the mighty Ice and Fire arrows in his general direction which more often than not made contact with his hind section giving me a great deal of satisfaction and finally landed the deadly blow that brought silence to the hills.

With order restored, I moved in to investigate the burial chamber that had been placed within the field. At first I tried the lid. It wouldn’t open. Next, I gave it a good thump and got a hollow echo in return. I gave it a good kick but got nothing for my trouble but a sore toe. I then set the miserable thing on fire and although it filled me with a sense of joy and accomplishment, nothing about the urn changed.

I then blew out the candles and set off to find something more interesting, less skeletony.


What have we here? Quite a handsome table and festive mood lighting you have going on out here in the middle of this empty field, on this dark night, with no one around. Wait a minute! That’s not a decorative table! What in the name of necromancy goes on out here?

More brilliant musings about my adventures in New Britannia

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