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Stephi, with Petie as her wingman, flew out toward the approaching man. Derek, Guard Captain Nickson and Mardin formed a line and trotted their horses toward the man, across the dry, scrub grass and rock-strewn landscape.
The small caravan kept plodding along. Even so, Glenn stood on the bench seat and scanned the countryside. A lone traveler might be a distraction.
Blizz watched the gnome carefully, ready to steady him if needed. “See anything, Mr. Jax?”
“No,” Glenn said. “Just thought bandits or something might try to sneak up on us from the other direction.”
Blizz laughed uneasily, like something was troubling him, too. “I like the way yous’re thinking.”
Despite the plodding hooves and creaking wagon, Glenn heard Stephi nearly one hundred yards away. “Ewww,” she said. “He smells.”
The man had stopped and gazed up at the fairy holding station twenty yards above.
Stephi dipped a little lower, and then began moving away. “It’s a goblin, with one of those glowing blue crystals stuck in his forehead.”
Glenn thought back. A zombie lizardman with a glowing blue crystal in its head approached him, Stephi and Kirby while they were fishing along the shore of the Snake Claw River. That one had smelled like a pile of day-old pig intestines from a slaughter house tossed out to rot under a hot sun.
The instant the memory fell together for Glenn, Stephi shouted, “It’s a zombie!”
As she fluttered up and away, the goblin-zombie moved to follow, still looking up.
Petie called out a warning, sensing his mistress’s distress.
A faint blue glow flared from the zombie’s forehead.
Derek kicked Four Banger, urging his mount into a gallop as he drew his sword. Nickson and Mardin followed.
“Keep backing away, Marigold,” the big warrior shouted.
“Why?” Marigold asked. Before Derek could answer, she let loose with her Dazzle Spell.
The horses reared. Both Derek and Mardin fell from their saddles. They landed hard on the ground. Captain Nickson regained control of his mount, but the animal balked moving forward. Blinded like the other two horses, all three neighed in fright and confusion.
Mardin curled up in a ball on the ground until his mount moved away from him. Then he stood unsteadily, also temporarily blinded.
Derek had rolled away from his horse, cursing. He got to his feet and began stomping toward the goblin zombie. “Just stop,” he shouted.
“But you told me to back up,” Stephi replied.
“That was when I was on my horse!” Derek trotted forward, sword held two-handed, cocked back. “Just keep its attention—and don’t flash us again.”
“I wouldn’t mind a proper flash, none,” Blizz said with a snicker. Then the half-goblin animal handler met Glenn’s angry gaze. He frowned. “Didn’t mean for that to slip out.”
Deep down, Glenn woundn’t’ve minded for a quick flash to happen. The base thought tightened his throat. He didn’t respond. Instead the gnome healer turned back toward Stephi just in time to see Derek cleave the goblin zombie’s head from its body.
The zombie didn’t realize it was dead. Well, that the necromantic magic hadn’t quite been sundered by the warrior’s blade. It required a second hacking attack from the big warrior to fully end the confrontation.
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After Derek smashed the still-flaring crystal with a thirty-pound rock, and set fire to the goblin zombie’s body, the party’s caravan continued down the road.
Glenn knew the overloaded wagons couldn’t move fast. The weight was already a strain on the wagons’ wheels. Odds were they’d use up each wagon’s spare on the rutted, rocky, weak excuse for a road. Luckily they’d stripped the four wheels from the lightning-blasted wagon, plus its spare.
Listening to the bumps and creaking wheels, the gnome healer thought back, recalling what Kirby told him and Stephi about Tracking Gems. Evil clerics or magic users attune an enchanted crystal to what they’re looking for. The spell caster in question stuck his Tracking Gem in the forehead of a goblin zombie and sent the undead creature out to find...whatever.
That type of enchanted crystal offered some basic guidance. If the blue crystal gets close to whatever it’s set to seek, like within a half mile, depending on the strength of the creating spell caster, it’ll direct the carrier—like a zombie—right toward the sought object.
Glenn wondered if the object could be a person. What he kept coming back to was that the higher-rank the spell caster, the more powerful the tracking. Sometimes the Tracking Gem’s creator could tell if the creature bearing the gem was close, if the spell caster happened to be holding a shard of the Tracking Gem and concentrating on it. Sort of like GPS, but not as accurate. Maybe even see the target through the blue crystal.
Stephi was kept out of sight within the covered wagon Blizz drove. Glenn rode on the bench next to him.
Kirby stuck with Ron, who drove the lead wagon. Derek rode Four Banger alongside. Glenn was pretty sure they were discussing the last Wandering Creature Encounter. And he was pretty sure it wasn’t a random Wandering Creature Encounter. Not one with some random dice roll directing its occurrence. Rather one directed by some intelligent force. One with a purpose.