When we eventually got to the crossroads, where the road to Chantresville turned ever more to the south, we were all on alert. More and more things just didn’t add up as we thought about them. We were all expecting a trap of some kind. But what we found… was not what we expected.

To start, there was the presence of three wagons, not the two that we had expected from the swordsman’s tale. Two looked to be coming from Northport, as we had been, and the third was on the road to the Moonwood. Stranger still, the wagons all looked to be perfectly intact. Indeed, each one was simply sitting in the road, as though the drivers had stopped for a discussion about which was the proper path to go.

What was decidedly not present at the crossroads were any living beings that would have accompanied the carts. The horses laid dead in their harnesses. The bodies of humans, elves, and dwarves were scattered around the crossroads, twelve of them in all. Three looked to be merchants by their dress, but the rest were clearly sellswords and guards. All the bodies looked as though they had been there for weeks, but there was no smell of decaying flesh.

Carefully, we advanced, thankful for the sun still being high in the sky, but as we drew nearer to the crossroad, Frostmane began growling, and the twins’ horses whinnied, and refused to move forward. Vestele, acting on a hunch, cast a spell to detect undead, while I cast one to seek out magical auras. I was pleasantly surprised to see a glimmer of magic in one of the carts, but that feeling was tainted by Vestele cursing in the demonic tongue. Turning towards her, I was about to ask where the threat was, as I hadn’t seen anything, but then I saw her eyes. She was looking beneath the wagons. Specifically, at the soil beneath the wagons.

“How bad?”

“Four, maybe five. Maybe more. They’re at the limit of what the spell can sense. I… I think they’re some kind of incorporeal undead. That’s the most I can tell you.”

Frostmane’s Spot Check: 1d20+13 = 17

Frostmane growled. “They’re already watching us, waiting for us to get closer. I can see their heads in the shadows beneath the wagons. They look like shadow-things of some sort. They feel… wrong.”

Vestele’s Knowledge (Religion) Check: 1d20+11 = 17

The cleric nodded slowly. “Many of the incorporeal types of undead tend to be wary of the sun’s light. It is supposed to weaken them. Not like with vampires, how it burns their flesh, but it does rob them of their powers. Unfortunately, most of those sorts of creatures cannot be reasoned with. They may technically be intelligent, but they might as well be mindless, for all the thinking they do. Everything is about hunting life and snuffing it out. And those who fall to them often rise as another of the cursed creatures, to continue the cycle.”

Siora grimaced, “My spells will be little use against the undead, and even my weapons will have trouble hitting them, since they have not been enchanted to strike ghosts. Perhaps we can evade the undead? Move around them and continue on our way, leaving them far behind before night falls?”

I nodded slowly. “On the other hand, I can sense some magical items in the wagons. I doubt any trade goods would still be worth anything, but the merchants should also have some coin on them. That would make our lives much easier, in the long run.”

Frostmane shook his head. “If we’re going to search the wagons and strip the bodies, then we’d best deal with the shadow-things first. I don’t like the way they’re looking at us. At least the necklace I have will let me bite them.”

Vestele took a breath. “I can try and use the power of Malcanthet to rebuke the undead. I can’t promise that it will work on all of them, but I should at least be able to keep one or two occupied.”

I nodded. “All right, then. Everyone ready? Let’s get this party started.”

Melinda’s Attack Roll: 1d20+10 = 20 (Hit)

Damage: 3d6 = 10 (Cold)

Initiatives

Melinda

Frostmane

Siora

Vestele

Shadows x5

I unleashed a blast of icy magic at the closest of the five shadows, hitting it in the exposed area that was sticking up out of the ground as it waited for prey to venture closer to the carts. The creatures had an animal cunning for ambushes, but they clearly knew the game was up.

Frostmane moved in front of Vestele, and readied himself teeth bared as he growled towards the shadows. “I’ll get the first one that comes close. Be ready to blast them, though!”

Siora’s Attack: 1d20+8 = 22 (Hit)

Miss Chance: 1d100 = 82 (Success)

Damage: 1d6+2 = 5 (Piercing)

Siora’s bowstring sung as she loosed an arrow at the shadow I’d just blasted, hitting it again. The creature wasn’t looking too good. Bits of shadow were fraying at the edges of its form, from what I could see. I just hoped that they would all be easy to take down. Undead were not something to toy around with, unless you had a necromancer on your side.

Vestele breathed in, and held up her symbol of Malcanthet, readying the power she knew she’d be needing momentarily. “Let them come. The Lady will show them no mercy, and neither shall I!”

Vestele’s Turning Check: 1d20+2 = 6

Maximum HD = 5

Turning damage: 18 (18 total HD)

The Shadows burst out of the ground, and flew towards the party, but Vestele was ready. “BY THE KISS OF MALCANTHET BE STILL!” Instantly, all five of the undead stopped, and appeared to be cowering in place at the sight of the symbol in the cleric’s hands. “I have them all. I cannot approach without breaking the effect, but they should be easy enough to slay while they are cowering.”

5 Shadows defeated.

Melinda gains 656 XP.

Frostmane gains 313 XP.

Vestele gains 313 XP.

Siora gains 313 XP.

And, indeed, it was simple enough to clean up the shadows. In fact, I almost felt cheap doing it. This was no battle, but a simple slaughter. I had heard of the power that clerics held over the undead before, of course, but had never known it was so potent! Sure, they did not appear to be particularly strong undead, but Vestele was quick to point out that shadows, as they were known, were deadly foes, who could sap a person’s strength, and, if they took too much, their victim would rise as a shadow themselves, and their soul would be beyond the reach of the more common magics to raise the dead. It was a grim thought.

Checking the bodies revealed common quality items that would not really be worth the trouble of hauling all the way to Moonwater, not without a wagon of their own. However, in the abandoned wagons, there were a few items that caught our eye, not least of which were several bags containing coins and gems. 1700 gold pieces and 10000 silver may not be a princely sum, especially when divided four ways, but I was sure that we could put it to good use. The same went for the five black pearls, and the four bloodstones, which, all told, were worth almost 2700 gold pieces themselves.

But that wasn’t all the loot worth taking in the wagons. As we had expected, most of the trade goods had mostly been ruined, thanks to the undead taint, but, aside from some magic items, there were only two things of note that had survived. The first was a large case in one of the wagons that had been heading outbound from Northport. Siora spotted it right away, because it had the symbol of Malcanthet etched upon the lid. Inside was a collection of collars, leashes, gags, and self-contained kits of ‘toys’.

“Oh, I’d heard about this! One of the girls was putting together kits like this, and convincing traveling merchants to buy them, in hopes of selling them in the various villages. A bit of ‘exotic city life’ that isn’t likely to go bad with age, like food from a popular restaurant. Most villagers never leave their village. Simply too dangerous. So, this is a way to expand their horizons, in the safety of home.”

I shook her head, and tuned out the courtesan bubbling on about the various items in the kits, and their potential uses. My last life was no stranger to some of them, but I had no desire to revisit such things anytime soon. I would be the first to admit that I still wasn’t ‘over’ what had happened, though thirteen years of living in a completely new world had helped.

Instead, I turned my attention to the second item of interest. It was another chest, but this one was in the wagon that had been coming from Moonwater. It was a small chest, about the size of a book, but it had what looked like seals blessed by Kelemvor, to keep the dead in check. But the seals had been broken, the chest opened. And there was nothing inside.

We didn’t know what to make of it, so we placed the box inside Frostmane’s bags, for safekeeping. I wondered if it had anything to do with the swordsman we’d met along the road. Perhaps someone in Moonwater could tell us about it?

With the more mundane things out of the way, the true fun of the looting began: sorting through the magical items, and splitting them up accordingly. We’d decided early on that items found would go first to those who could use them, though their value might be taken out of the share of any other items that were sold. Fortunately, it looked like there was plenty to go around.

Greater Piwafwi

Type

Shoulder

Weight

1

An invention of the Drow, this cloak is a refinement upon the typical Cloak of Elvenkind.

Resistance to Fire 5

+5 Competence Bonus to Hide

This cloak went to Frostmane. His size, and the armor he wore, did not lend itself to stealth, especially outside snowy areas, and this would help. Plus, I knew that a bit of resistance against fire would be welcome for a creature of the cold like he was. And arranging the cloak on his shoulders like a cape was positively adorable.

Boots of Striding and Springing

Type

Boots

Weight

1

This set of boots gives a +10 ft Enhancement bonus to base speed, and +5 Competence bonus on Jump checks.

These boots were functional copies of the ones both Frostmane and I already wore. Well, functional copies. Frostmane’s were made of white leather, and mine were lined with fox fur. These ones were black. But still, it was the same as the ones we already had, so I had no trouble with Siora taking them. Hopefully, we could find some for Vestele, as well. Having the option of speed in combat was always better than not having it when you needed it.

Crystal Mask of Languages

Type

Face

Weight

0

This mask made of transparent crystal is infused with the ability to read, write, and speak five languages. This mask includes: Undercommon, Drow Sign Language, Elven, Dwarven, and Goblin.

I picked this one up. After all, I was the best at spinning tales or distracting an opponent, unless you counted Siora propositioning someone. But she had her spells, and I was based, mostly, on skill. Plus, Siora already spoke most of the languages on the mask. And I could always switch it with the monocle, when we needed to identify things.

Lesser Headpiece of the Demonic Dancer

Type

Head

Weight

0

This headpiece is designed to be worn in a dancer’s hair. Crafted from silver and shaped like a pair of horns suggestive of a succubus, they grant the user a +2 Profane bonus to CHA, and a +5 Profane bonus to Perform (Dance).

Of course, the item that was about dancing went to the only person in the group who actually was a real dancer. Namely, me. But the bonus to Charisma was nice, as well, since it helped make my invocations harder to resist, and made me tougher to hit.

Crimson Dragonhide Bracers

Type

Arms

Weight

1

These bracers are crafted from the scaly red hide of a large reptile. They grant the wearer Resistance to Fire 5, and +1 Enhancement bonus to Natural Armor.

We agreed that Vestele should get the bracers. As the only one in the group with reliable healing, anything that kept her up and in the fight longer was a good thing. And it wasn’t like we hadn’t all gotten some goodies.

Scroll of Cure Moderate Wounds

Type

Divine Scroll

Caster Level

3

This scroll allows the user to cast Cure Moderate Wounds, healing the target for 2d8+3 damage.

Naturally, this scroll also went to Vestele. It was a simple choice, honestly. More healing in the hands of the healer was always a good thing. Sure, I could fake it with my skill, but she was the one who would get the best use out of it.

With our loot sorted, we continued on. There were still a couple hours of daylight left, and none of us felt like camping near the site of this carnage. The wilds were dangerous enough without inviting trouble like that.