I suppose, really, we should have seen the legions of undead horrors coming. I mean, in hindsight, think about it: you’re off to raid the lost and buried remains of an ancient civilisation. Specifically, you;re off to raid the lost and buried bit where they kept a really pokey magic item which, for reasons that are either rather obscure or, more likely, totally fucking lethal, no one else has managed to either find or pillage for a good few hundred years. There’s probably a checklist for such expeditions that read something like this:
Ye Olde Guide to raiding ancient tombes, cryptes, lost civilisationes and generally anywhere that’s undergrounde and longe-forgottene:
Four things are going to try and kill you on such an expedition:
One: Starvation. The thing about Ye Olde Loste Forgottene Tombes is that they wouldn’t be exactly loste and forgottene if they were half an hour on a pony from a handy Mescos Express. Bring either food, water and someone who can hunt or else bring a Cleric who can Create Food and Water. And look after him/her.
Two: Look, Loste Forgottene Tombes tend to fall down at inconvenient moments. Bring a shovel and a dwarf. And healing potions.
Three: Generally speaking, Anciente Artifactes of Greate Powere aren’t just chucked in a cave with some dead guy and a ‘hey-ho, that’s the end of that.’ Loste Tombes draw Raiders of Loste Tombes and the architects of said Loste Tombes are well aware of this. Expect traps, both magical and mundane. Equip yourself with wizards who can sense magic, elves who have a knack of noticing hidden doors and rogues who will open them. And a cleric.
Four: Loste Tombes are the equivalent of Working Mens Clubs for the undead. Even if your particular Loste Tombe didn’t have any in right from the start (and what self-respecting Loste Tombe architect would ignore such a classic of the genre), it is unlikely to be more than a few days before the first homeless skeletons and zombies have moved in, claimed squatters rights, start playing loud music and generally upsetting the neighbours. Bring plenty of magic swords and a cleric. And a spare cleric.
Actually, there’s six, because there’s also the getting there (see Ye Olde Guide series on Crossing Anciente Jungles, Forestes and/or Desertes) and then the getting back (see the same plus Ye Olde Cliché Guide to How is it the Villaine is Always Awaiting Ye Outside When Ye’ve Just Retrieved An Loste Anciente Artifacte?).
Anyway, where were we? Oh yes, the soul-sucking wraith that’s wafting towards us and us not having anyone who can even spell the name of a half-decent god let alone call on the powers of one and only having the one magic sword. Did I mention the wizards nearly used up all their spells already?
 Ye Olde 24-hour adventurer supply convenience store
NEXT WEEK: THE WRAITH OF KAHHHHHHN (aka VALE SMASH!)