Items of value? Surely this couldn't have been a problem for the Chosen Undead. Or so he thought, standing up from his seat on the floor. The walking, talking corpse stepped through the mysterious orange light and felt his reanimated body warp across time and space, soon depositing itself in the building, inside a dark hall. The Undead could barely see more than a scant few feet in front of him. Readying his spear in his hand, he raised his shield, and carefully proceeded onward towards mad treasure.

After all, this was just some entertainment company. A bunch of minstrels and actors.

What could possibly go wrong?