With how short a life could be, it didn’t surprise me that the undead would often rise to get one last taste of having some presence on this plane. Unfortunately, this was usually against their will. I had found that despite my life being longer than most, there were still new things to experience. Some are the same but slightly different, and others are a completely novel meal for my senses. I was beginning to feel that we weren’t meant to see it all, feel everything in the world. Make do with the best lot you could grasp before it was taken.

We left the horse and wagon tied to some errant fencing posts of a long abandoned farm. As much as I could see the benefit of having the warm beast as a way to bait the undead from their position - I felt that Florence might immolate me just for the suggestion. In fairness, it would add a chaotic unknown to our plan, and I shouldn’t be encouraging such actions.

The walk forward was at a slight decline as the slow valleys and peaks of the various overgrown fields of no purpose shimmered in differing greens against the light breeze. A beautiful sight, were it not for the small pocket of darkened clouds and foul fog covering the area just ahead.

“Best to save the fire wall for if we encounter a sudden surge,” I offered the Mage. Normally it was a little too on the nose to tell a Ranker how to use their skills - but I didn’t want it to go to waste when a little sword work could deal with anything but the largest of hordes.

“Okay.”

Her blunt reply wasn’t necessarily in admonishment of my unrequested advice. Her eyes were focused ahead - not nervous, but determined.

“Any tips for me, Victor?” Jakob shot me a wry smile as he started to walk a little ahead.

I gave him a pat on the back of his quiver, my strength offsetting his footing slightly. “Looks like you have enough if you’re not wasteful.”

Normal arrows seemed like a bit of a handicap. Whilst they did well enough against humanoids and beast - specialist arrows were part and parcel of being a Ranking Ranger. Of course, if he didn’t have an ability that could create them, they were often expensive. Especially the more exotic you went or rare the quarry you sought. At least for now, my intention was to guide him towards a Replenishing Quiver - the magical item should at least rid us of the worry of him running out of ammunition.

It was a bit presumptuous for me to start picking out the gear they would need. As if they were my minions. Old habits died hard, as much as I didn’t.

Across the slim dirt path, we eventually came across something not far from the dark clouds overhead. Scattered around the thick grass and short bushes were… items.

“Looks like discarded backpacks?” Florence narrowed her eyes and tensed her hand warily.

“Yeah,” Jakob crouched to try and get a better look at them. “A handful maybe, and some discarded armor - I think I see a scabbard in the grass too.”

I nodded. Internally I commended them for their caution. All too easy it was to leap towards assumed treasure, to find that you had instead come across a trap - or worse.

“The remnants of a previous party,” I agreed, withdrawing my sword. How their discarded luggage had come to be here, yet no sign of struggle or their bodies…

They both looked at me for action as I scoured the nearby area. Nothing seemed untoward directly around us - and there was no evidence that they had been chased and were cut down by a group from the looming graveyard ahead.

“A curse,” I eventually surmised. “They sought to escape but either eventually succumbed to whatever ailed them or it activated once they tried to leave the area. They died, and their bodies joined the ranks within.”

Florence crossed her arms and glared. “Do we have anything against curses?”

The silence was enough answer. Technically I was undead, or at least undead-adjacent, depending on what qualifiers you adhered to. So the curse was unlikely to affect me. For my human companions, it wasn’t so simple.

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I placed the end of the sword into the soft earth and crossed my arms. “What do you think? Is this too risky for us?”

They exchanged glances. “Is this some kind of test?” Florence asked, scowling at me.

“Everything is a test, Florence.” I grinned, although there wasn’t much humor in my face. “Your existence as a Ranker is an uphill battle against terrible odds. If you wanted to coast, then staying as an adventurer would have been better.”

“That’s not what I said,” she huffed and glared at the shadowed graveyard. “But! You said this was adventurer-level stuff.”

“It was,” Jakob interjected, gesturing towards the discarded items. “Things look to have changed.”

A smile turned at the corners of my mouth. “Precisely. Evaluate the situation. Is your main objective to do a good deed at any cost or to avoid potential death and live to the next day?”

As the Mage opened her mouth to answer, the Ranger interrupted again.

“Neither,” he returned a wry smile. “It’s to do the good dead despite the danger and scrape by with our lives barely intact.”

I nodded. We could abandon this quest, and not have to suffer any injury or loss. Survival for a new challenge would be easy. But there would be the guilt there - a Hero didn’t exist to avoid any potential anguish, but that didn’t mean we were to throw our lives away. We sought the win, but not at any cost. Just what was affordable to our mortal shells, something we could recover and wring the evil out of the next area soon after.

“It’s basically whether we can avoid the curse or not then, right?” Florence tilted her head, her face now more relaxed. “Assuming that the curse is related to the area or the source - if we fully clear the place, then it should leave us in the clear?”

I let it hang in the air for a while. No half measures. If we entered, we would be committing to cleansing the evil from the graveyard. Scour every last hiding place for the cause of the waking dead and ensure they were all put to final rest. I hadn’t intended for this to be such a learning experience, but you never look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially when your life might depend on it in the future.

“I’m in,” Jakob shrugged. “We were going for the source anyway.”

“Yeah.” Florence bit her lip. “Let’s do it.”

“Alright. Your paths through destiny have been written; should we fall, you can at least be contented that you made the decision to take whatever fate has in store for you.”

“That’s not very reassuring, Victor.” The Mage sighed and looked back at the packs. “Are these safe to take then, or not?”

I shrugged. Normally curses didn’t stick to banal items - unless the curse itself turned the item magical. You could never tell, although I did not feel anything untoward this close to us. As I took a step forward, I paused.

“Florence, you said you have some manner of danger sense? Yet it never picked up you were traveling with a vampire?” I raised my eyebrows.

She looked off to the side, slightly embarrassed. “It picks up things that are a danger to us, so I guess you are not?”

Hmm. That was a good enough explanation for now. I shrugged at her with a smile. Certainly, I intended them no harm. Part of it still grated on my soul to be consorting with beings so beneath me. But that was a feeling harbored over countless years, emotion numb and ego as large as the mansion that filled my estate. Scrubbed anew, they seemed like worthy enough companions.

I knelt down by the nearest pack and hovered my hand over it. No energies that would warn me of a potential curse. Although I couldn’t detect magic as well as a spellcaster trained in the arcane, I had held enough magical artifacts and cursed items to recall the brief texture of them. Like threads of spiderweb waving in the breeze. It was how I was able to put back together my Mask.

As I lifted the pack up, the other two winced as if expecting something to immediately combust, or I should melt away to a skeletal figure. Those sorts of curses could happen, certainly. Instead, I opened up the flap to inspect the contents with little objection from reality.

“Looks like we have some luck for a change.” I grinned and threw it over to the Ranger so that I could grab a second backpack.

“Huh,” he peered inside the bag himself. “Somewhat shameful that adventurers are always so much better prepared than us.”

“I suggest chucking the rations,” I passed the second bag to the Mage.

Cloaks, blankets, bedrolls, candles, torches, rope, lockpicks, ball bearings, and plenty of other things we didn’t have the time to sort through. Proper dungeoneering gear. Some gold too - which should ease our life back at the town for the rest of the week if we were sensible. And still alive.

I handed the scabbard over to Florence. “Any skill with a sword?”

She shook her head and almost recoiled from the gift.

“You will learn. It is magical - has a minor enchantment to make it lighter.” I grinned as she withdrew it.

One of the more basic enchantments a weapon could have, but commonly chosen by those wanting something pragmatically functional. A magical weapon never dulled and wouldn’t be resisted by certain monsters - that was worth the gold cost of enchantment alone.

Her test swings of the blade were clumsy, but I saw the spark of potential there. Mages often had the downside of being weak in melee combat. Even if she wasn’t able to learn any sword abilities, just natural skill in using the weapon could save her life.

We arranged the rest of the dropped items so that we each had a pack to wear. Any armor pieces were either incomplete or too worn to consider taking.

I plucked my sword back from the ground and stood to face the graveyard.

Time to cleanse some evil.