Maybe magic missile

The paladin had been separated from his team for an hour now. Knowing that he likely wandered now in an entirely different string of catacombs than the ones the group had began in didn’t instill him with much confidence. Finally though, he was allowed to see what would happen next.

“Without the rogue, it’s up to me to make certain I don’t walk into a trap,” he said to himself and his God. He studied the left way and the right and decided to go right. Nothing terrible happened, so he assumed he had guessed right. Which made sense, since he went right. And who knew? Maybe left was just as clear. He would find out if he walked into a dead end.

The room at the end of the hall was not filled with dust as everything else had been. The smell of damp permeated the room, the smell of rotted flesh.

“But the bodies here have been dead for too long. The undead! I search for signs of them!”

“Too late,” said the DM. “Roll for initiative.”

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