A call is put out for adventurers to help the Baron in his time of need. For those who can read, a scroll is posted on the job board at the Adventurers’ Guild House. For those who can not, the town crier reads the following:
“Adventurers wanted to perform an important, confidential mission for our valiant Baron. Inquire at the front gate of the baronial keep. Must provide own equipment and supplies. Compensation provided for successful work only.”
The line of ruffians and scoundrels wrapped around the keep walls and along the neighboring buildings. Among the hundreds of applicants, a band of six called the Dungeon Knights wait impatiently for their turn.
“We’ve been in this line for hours. I gotta pee.” Bandric exclaims.
Chalándril looks at him sharply, “Hold it. We’re at the front of the line.”
A group of four individuals walks away from the desk allowing Chalándril and friends to step up.
The desk clerk looks up dismissive, flips a few papers around. The clerk asks, “What are your qualifications?”
Chalándril responds, “We wiped out the goblin tribes of the Goblin Hills several days ago.”
Clerk’s eyebrow rises. “I see. The door to your right, please.”
The Dungeon Knights enter a smaller room. A dignified, well-dressed man steps forward and hands Chalándril some papers. The man bows, “I work for the Baron. Please sit down while we talk.”
The minister sits on a well-made chair. The heroes find two wood benches to rest their butts. “The Baron is in urgent need of particularly crafty and deadly warriors who will root out and extinguish rebellious cults who threaten the safety and security of this land. Can the Baron count on your discretion and, shall we say, thoroughness?”
Tolok nods affirmation.
“Excellent. Here is a map noting the last known sightings of these cultists, according to the Baron’s informants. These vile cultists are spreading a rebellious disease both literally and figuratively among the peasants of this barony. Their infectious message of disobedience and self-empowerment must be put down. I must add that time is of the essence. The faster you can complete your mission, the sooner we can stop the spread of their diseased message. The Baron wants the cult’s antidote for the illness they are spreading. It has spread into the Baron’s very keep. A cure must be had as soon as possible.”
The minister sigh, ‟The other teams are sent on missions to collect ingredients for powerful curative elixirs. We hope their missions are successful too. However, you are charged with the most important goal, elimination of this cancer of the Barony. I can offer you no other information because I have none to provide.”
Bandric begins to speak, but the minister interrupts. “Best you be on your way. This mission is urgent.”
The minister raises his eyebrow.
Chalándril speaks, “Yes, we’ll be on our way. Everything here looks good and in order. No sense in wasting time or negotiating pay.”
The minister merely rolls his eyes. A barely audible sigh escapes his lips.
-
As the Dungeon Knights make their way out of the keep, they overhear a few guards talking.
“The baron’s daughter looks awful with all those puss filled green warts on her face. Yuck!”
“Well, the Healer and Alchemist concocted a list of ingredients for one of their new salves to help the girl.”
“Why didn’t they just fetch the priest to cure the girl?”
“They did, stupid. Don’t you think they tried that? It didn’t work. That’s why all these mercenaries are here, to gather all the ingredients.”
Tolok says to his friends, “It seems this is less a fool’s errand and more of a life-saving mission.”
Chalándril responds, “Then we must hurry. The girl shouldn’t suffer any more than she has too.”
-
The towers of the town’s keep are beyond sight. Tall trees and verdant bushes fill the surrounding area. The Dungeon Knights march on for hours.
Kotyka pulls her veil tighter. “The Vizier gave us this map to the last sightings of the suspected cultists. According to the map, they should be around this general location.”
Bandric replies, “This area is beyond most of the farms. Perhaps they are hiding amongst the local caves or in the woods.”
Merimonwë’s ears twitch. “I hear something.”
A low, haunting howl echoes in the forest. Terrified, Kotyka ducks into a knot of roots under a tree. The others draw their weapons and look around. Merimonwë’s ears twitch and turn in all directions. “I think there are more than one of…whatever it is.”
Bandric nocks his arrow and pulls. “I see three. Two small and a pack leader.”
The shadowy brush, a canine creature leaps out towards Bandric. Around its head is a mane of barbed quills. Ready for the onslaught, Bandric fires two arrows into the chest of the beast. Wounded, its attack fails to connect with the woodsman. Another beast leaps out to attack Merimonwë. However, Gûltar’s ax meets it mid-air cutting deep into the flesh. With a dying act, the porcupine-wolf bites the elf’s arm and a quill from its mane latches onto Merimonwë. She cries out in pain.
Chalándril brings her mace down on the head of the surviving porcupine-wolf. The skull smashes in an explosion of blood and brains. “Bandric, don’t worry about this one.”
A very large porcupine-wolf step out of the brush. Its muscles ripple in the shadowy light. The porcupine-wolf’s teeth glisten in the snarling jaw. The rubble of its growl is so low, it can be felt by all the Dungeon Knights. Bandric slowly taps Gûltar on the shoulder and says, “I think it’s your turn again.”
The dwarf’s eyes squint and look at Bandric. “My turn, eh?”
Noticing the distraction, the large porcupine-wolf leaps towards Gûltar. Bandric steps back and unloads an arrow. Tolok casts his magic missile spell, which zips off and unerringly finds its mark. Chalándril is too far to react while Merimonwë’s spell sends flames at the porcupine-wolf. Almost unfazed by the series of attack, the porcupine-wolf lands atop Gûltar’s shield. The porcupine-wolf’s quills pepper his shield. With its large jaws, the porcupine-wolf bites down on Gûltar and knocks him to the ground. The two combatants both regain their feet and charge each other again.
With a masterful swing of his ax, Gûltar lops off its head. The head wiggles and writhes as blood escape from the exposed neck. The porcupine-wolf’s body makes one final twitch and then falls limp. The dwarf stands above the body waiting…sweating. Bandric makes the announcement, “I think it is dead.”
Gûltar shakes his ax, whipping off the blood and guts. ‟Eh, you better skin the varmint so we can sell the pelt. It’d fetch a good price.”
‟What about the gaping ax holes?”
‟Let Tolok figure that out.”
-
The Dungeon Knights continue their search in the area. Bandric signals his companions. ‟Over here. Look Someone camped here a few days ago. There’s still warmth in the fire they covered up. Let’s search this area for anything they left behind.”
Kotyka finds a broken statue partially buried in the refuse pit. ‟This looks familiar. Tolok, you recognize this right? You have the best memory.”
The gnome examines the piece. Tolok strokes his chin hairs. ‟Yes, I do recall this form of idol from a previous adventure in these parts. It was the Forbidden Caves. You remember, the time we fought the beetle riders?”
After a few more minutes searching the campsite and immediate area, Chalándril decides to move on. She sends the group back to the caves. ‟Let’s continue this investigation at the Forbidden Caves. Bandric, do you remember the way?”
‟Yes, it’s not far.”
-
A deer is grazing in the woods near some brush. Its ears twitch. The head snaps up and looks towards the Dungeon Knights. For a moment, it is completely still. Then in a flash, it leaps and runs off into the woods.
The six adventurers march through the game trail towards the cavernous hills. Kotyka and Bandric lead the way. As they approach the Forbidden Caves, Bandric moves forward with cautious steps looking for guards or sentinels on watch. Bandric’s hand rises. His hand forms a fist. The Knights stop moving. Bandric watches the sentinel at the top of the hill for a few minutes. Bandric leans over and whispers to Kotyka. The half-orc nods. Both head out into the brush around the hill, going into different directions. Both moved without making a sound.
Chalándril watches the sentinel while she waits for the other two to return. Merimonwë and Kotyka have vacant stares and open mouths. Tolok is lost in thought as he contemplates magical formulas. The human sentinel grabs his neck, reaching for the arrow and blood. Another arrow pierces his chest. The sentinel falls forward off his perch to the ground.
Before his body settles to the ground, a robed figure grabs the body and pulls it into the brush. The squishy sound of metal entering flesh repeats several times. Kotyka’s robed form emerges from the brush. She signals to Chalándril to come towards her position.
As Merimonwë, Gûltar, Tolok, and Chalándril reach Kotyka’s position, Kotyka says in a soft voice, ‟Bandric thinks there’s another sentinel. We’ll check it out while you wait here. Wait for my signal before you move to the next location.”
Tolok raises his hand. ‟Where is that location?”
Another body drops from the hilly perch. With great speed, Kotyka takes out her dagger and stabs the body several times. Merimonwë lets out a shriek before she muffles it with her hands.
‟I think,” adds Kotyka, ‟this could be the signal.” Kotyka drags the body into the bushes and covers the body with a few branches. ‟Let’s move.”
-
The Knights walk the familiar path to the mouth of the once hidden cave. Bandric joins them at the cave entrance. He says, ‟Someone cleared out a lot of the underbrush and the immediate area. It’s not hard to find, and the caves look populated. There’s rubbish pit a few yards off.”
Bandric points into the deep cave. ‟Gultar and Kotyka, you take the lead. It’s dark in there.”
Kotyka and Gûltar walk forward. Bandric puts a magic light stick in his shoulder holster and follows the other three into the tunnel. Kotyka shouts, ‟There! Something’s coming down the tunnel!”
‟Aye. He’s a big fella,” remarks Gûltar as he readies his ax.
The lumbering humanoid figure looks like a poorly stitched rag doll made of body pieces and miscolored scrap sections of skin. The stitch lines are swollen and festering with puss and rot. The creature smells of putrid flesh and decay.
The fleshy golem’s large fists are raised high over its head as it enters the light. Bandric remarks, ‟Wasn’t he here the last time?”
Gûltar barks, ‟Well, this relationship is going to end the same way.”
The muscled dwarf swings his mighty ax into the fleshy opponent. The creature opens its mouth and spews a line of putrid water across Gûltar and Kotyka.
‟Agh! Some of that slop got in my mouth.” cries Gûltar.
Tolok warns, ‟Be careful, it might have a poisonous effect or something else equally as foul.” The gnomish wizard casts Grease underneath the mismatched footed golem. The flesh behemoth falls to the ground.
Chalándril exclaims, ‟Remember, magic won’t work on the golem directly.”
‟Damage!” Gûltar barks, ‟Lots and lots of damage kills this thing.” The angry dwarf stakes another swing at the creature. Bandric unloads several arrows into its putrid flesh.
‟Cough,” Kotyka gags, ‟It smells really bad. I can’t stay close to it and focus. I think I’m going to puke.”
‟Gultar!” screams Merimonwë, ‟Get out of the way. She throws a vial of alchemical fire onto the grease-covered golem. It bursts into flames.
The golem strikes Gûltar a few more times before the burly dwarf delivers the final blow. Rotted flesh and innards pour onto the cave floor. The smell gets worse.
Chalándril orders the others, ‟Let’s move further in. I’m sure the others heard this fight. We can’t give them a chance to escape.”
Along the way, the Dungeon Knights encounter local cultist and former farmers or tradesmen. They feebly try to stop the advances of the well-armed Knights, falling bloody and dead at Gûltar’s feet. ‟Tis a waste of good people.”
The Dungeon Knights make their way to the former shrine. There, they find a mask-wearing man wearing tattered robes. In front of him are several men with weapons. Bandric remarks, ‟These guys look better trained for fighting.”
A ray shoots out of the masked man’s hand. Gûltar deflects it with his shield. The masked man and his bodyguards are momentarily engulfed in a ball of flames and fire. When the fire subsides, three arrows hit the masked man in the chest.
One of the guards yells, ‟Doctor Pox! Quickly, cover him now. We need to get him out of here.”
Gûltar pushes past the guard and engages Doctor Pox with ax and shield. The guards surround the dwarf, but one guard collapses to the ground. Kotyka stands behind him with a bloody sword in hand.
Doctor Pox touches Gûltar on the head and yells, ‟Contagion!”. Gûltar stumbles to one knee. His shield drops from his arm. The surly dwarf looks up at the tattered robed priest and raises an eyebrow.
‟I cast Steel Ax!” Gûltar stands up, puts two hands on his ax, swing across the priest. Blood splatters everywhere. The force of the blow sends the priest stumbling backward. ‟Cough. I don’t feel so well.”
The guard hits Gûltar from behind with his sword. Gûltar hunches over from the blow. Two celestial badgers grab on to each of the guard’s legs. The Badgers begin to pull and bit the guard. He screams from the pain. Bandric’s arrow to the head silences his agony.
In the back of the shrine, a peasant hides curled up in the corner. ‟Please don’t hurt me. I don’t want to die.”
Chalándril approaches the woman, ‟We won’t kill you. Just tell us the truth to our questions.”
‟I swear, please let me live.”
Chalándril begins, ‟Are there more of you and your group?”
‟This is most of us. The others like to hang out at the Painted Pig in town.”
‟Who is your leader?”
‟Doctor Pox is our leader.”
Chalándril continues, ‟Do you have an antidote to the green spot fever?”
The woman begins to cry, ‟No, I don’t know. We have some antidotes here. I think Doctor Pox has something in his notes.”
‟Children have the green spot fever. Children are dying. Tell us if there’s an antidote and where it is!”
‟Gods no! Not children. He said we wouldn’t hurt children. There! The cure is in there in the jars.” She begins to sob more. The woman grabs a knife from the table and slits her throat. With blood gurgling out of her mouth, ‟Not the children.”
Her lifeless body slumps to the floor.
-
Back in town, the Dungeon Knights overhear conversations among the townspeople. “I heard the little princess is gravely ill. The medicines aren’t working.”
“I’m sure the Healer and the others on the court will help her.”
“That’s just the thing. Nothing’s working. They even have hunters and trackers out looking for special magical ingredients. A few have returned already but it wasn’t enough.”
“Gods, I’m getting out of this cursed land. If you know what’s good for you too, you’ll do the same.”
A few townsfolk are packing their mule-pulled wagons and heading for safer lands. Recalling the confession of the cultist, the heroes seek out the Painted Pig. Bandric spots the sign for the Painted Pig Tavern along a side street leading to the Warehouse Quarter. Bandric announces, “Well, this must be the place.”
Inside the tavern, a low fire burns in the hearth. Various patrons are hunched over their benches nursing their mug of ale. The Dungeon Knights find a spot near some unscrupulous looking fellows. The scruffy looking men are drunk and chatting jovially.
“If Rhulat’s plan works out, she’ll be in charge of this dump. I can’t wait.”
“Are you sure it’s going to work? I mean the Baron has lots of men. Can Rhulat kill them all?” asks the chubby thug.
The thin thug replies, “Don’t you remember the fever is loose in the castle? It’ll take care of the Baron, his family and most of his guard. We won’t have to kill anyone because they’ll all be dead.”
A third, big nosed thug asks, “But how come we won’t get it?”
“Because the boss has the antidote, you lummox. Weren’t you listening to him during the meetings?”
“Those meetings were long, boy-o. You know I can’t stay awake that long listening to blubber mouth. She won’t stop talking sometimes.”
The chubby one spots Merimonwë listening. “Keep your voice down, or someone will hear you.”
“There’s no one around. Beside…eh, you. What are you looking at? This is a private conversation.” The stern looking thug stands up, pushing his bench back with a screech. He points his finger at Bandric and Merimonwë.
The big-nosed thug also gets up. He punches his other hand menacingly and says, “Don’t make me teach you a lesson.”
Gûltar spits, “Is it a lesson you willing to teach? Well, let me be your first student, you whelp.”
Chalándril reprimands, “Gûltar, there’s no killing in town. You know the rules. Please let us settle this like civilized people.” She gently lowers his now ready ax.
He sheaths his ax. “Looks like I’ll have to do this the old fashion way.”
Gûltar blocks the thug’s punch and counters with a vicious punch to the thug’s nose. The big-nosed thug is holding his face with blood oozing around his hands. The dwarf hits the other lout with his elbow and follows up with a left hook to the thug’s face. Chubby guy is on the floor bleeding.
The stern looking thug connects with Gûltar’s face causing his lip to bleed. Gûltar’s eyes tighten and he counters with a forceful punch to the stomach. The thug is knocked outstretched across the table. “The only thing I like more than a bar fight is winning a bar fight.”
The other tavern customers get up and move away from the ruckus. The tavern-keep yells over to Gûltar, “Stop all this fighting or else I’ll call the watch.”
Kotyka says sheepishly, “Guess I’ll tie these guys up now.”
Bandric leaves a few guilders on the table. “Here’s a little coin for damages, my friend.” The tavern-keep nods his head and returns to drying mugs.
Gûltar, Bandric, Chalándril, and Kotyka awkwardly carry the three thugs out of the tavern. Merimonwë and Tolok drag the heroes’ belongings behind. She moans, “I can’t believe how heavy all this stuff is. Should we buy lighter equipment?” She huffs, “Is anyone listening to me?”
-
The Dungeon Knights return to the Keep. In the comfortable lounge room, the heroes begin to unwind. Tolok asks, “Chalándril, you seemed especially focused on the child. Do you have children of your own?”
“No. I’m not even married.”
Tolok looks confused, “Is not that unusual for an elven woman of you…er…age.”
She nods.
Bandric adds, “You are a priestess of the Great Mother. I’m sure caring for children is high on the list of religious obligations.”
Gûltar says, “Yeah, makes sense to protect children—even human children.”
Merimonwë touches Chalándril on the knee. “Were you ever in love Chalándril?”
Chalándril looks off dreamily. “Yes, I had a suitor when I was younger. He was so handsome. His skills as a warrior were unmatched. He didn’t care that I was half-human…until it was clear I couldn’t bear a child.”
Chalándril starts crying. “I can’t bear children yet the very precepts of the Goddess are fertility and child-rearing. I thought that becoming a priestess of the Great Mother would help—that her powers would grant me a child. I prayed so hard, so very hard. Some half-breeds are fertile but there aren’t many. Their children are enough elf to have a normal life.” She sobs quietly. Her body trembles.
She takes out a handkerchief and wipes her eyes. “I prayed that I would be one of those few blessed women. The Lhavi are half-humans that usually breed true. They continue their community among themselves separate from Elven and Human populations.”
Her tears flow down her face. “But I’m not Lhavi. I’m just a miserable mistake. I will never have children. I will always be a failure to my ancestors, my people, and my Goddess.”
Merimonwë hugs the sobbing half-human. Chalándril continues, “That’s why I’m out here risking my life for gold and glory. I don’t need either but there’s nothing else I’m good at. There’s nothing else for me. For some reason, I’m good at dungeon crawling, destroying undead things, and other adventurous activities.”
She composes herself. “What elf would join my family? I can’t bear any children. I offer nothing—no station, no children, no land. At least here in the wild lands of the humans and dwarves, I can do something useful. I can protect people, stop evil and heal the sick. At least my life has value. I have a purpose.”
She wipes the tears from her face. “The Baron’s child will live. She must! Children are innocent, gifts from the Goddess. None should suffer like that. Not while I can do something about it.”
-
A few other groups of adventurers enter the chamber and find seats. They have boxes or bags loaded with mysterious ingredients. The Chamberlain takes their names and makes notes on his docket. Chalándril leans over and asks the chamberlain quietly, “What of those other adventuring teams?”
“We had several teams out there looking for ingredients to make more powerful antitoxin. The Baron fears there is an inside man and traitor working among us.”
Chalándril adds, “We overheard some things in town. Has the disease infected anyone inside the Keep? Are these ingredients for anyone important with an incurable illness?”
“Yes, the Baron’s daughter has contracted Green Spot Fever. The cure will be tested soon. And the antitoxin formula will be given to the staff alchemist to concoct additional batches. All other alchemical efforts have failed.”
Chalándril continues, “We suspect someone planted the fever in the castle in an attempt on the Baron’s life and bid for control over the Barony. Keep your guards on alert. While you work on more salve, we’ll root out the conspirators and bring them to justice.”
“That would truly be great. Thank you.”
Merimonwë asks, ‟What will you do with the mask of Doctor Pox? It has some magic in it.”
‟The Baron will have a trusted wizard study the object. You need not worry about that.”
The double doors to the audience room open. Baron sits on the central throne. A beautiful lady sits next to him in a splendid gown. Other ministers and courtiers stand around him. Bandric asks, “Is that the Baroness next to the Baron?”
The Chamberlain responds, “Oh, no, she is too despondent for an audience. She is caring for the princess. That’s the Baron’s favorite Courtesan, the one called Rhulat.”
All six of the Dungeon Knights stand up and begin drawing weapons with practiced ease. The palace guards lower their halberds and move to protect the Baron. Chalándril barks, “She is the traitor. Rhulat infected the princess with the fever. We must capture her at once. She is a cultist.”
Rhulat notices the commotion in the waiting chamber. She whispers to the Baron and excuses herself from the court. The Dungeon Knights charge into the room startling the guards, so much so that one of them drops his halberd on the floor. Rhulat closes the door behind her. By the time Kotyka gets there, the pretty Courtesan is gone.
Much later, a chief guard reports to the Baron, “Baron, Lady Rhulat is not in the Keep. I fear she has escaped. I have several units dispatched throughout the town looking for her.”
The Baron’s face is red with anger and anguish. “How, how could she?”
-
The Dungeon Knights return to the kidnapped conspirators tied up in the Inn rooms. Gûltar slams the door. “All right! It’s time for you lads to start talking. I’m in no mood for tricks or tight lips.”
Gûltar pulls a knife.
Gûltar frowns, “Lads, this will happen one of three ways. You tell me what I want to know. Or I cut you then you tell me what I want to know, or I kill you and we talk with your dead bodies. Still, I get what I want to know. Which do you choose?”
The thugs look at each other with gags in their mouths. They are scared. They say something muffled. Bandric crinkles his face. “I don’t understand what they are saying.”
Kotyka cuts the gags off, leaving trickles of blood where her knife cut too close. The three thugs begin to tell all they know about Rhulat, her safe house, and her plans—to the best of their limited knowledge. With the information gained from the thugs, the heroes make way to the water-wheel safe house of Rhulat. The baron’s guards enter the room to take custody of the thugs. ‟Just wait until you see the Baron’s dungeons, you wretched excuses of traitors.”
The sound of a metal gauntlet hitting flesh echoes in the room. The door closes.
-
The Dungeon Knights sneak up towards the water-wheel house. The rush of water and the rhythmic creak of the mill turning drown out most noise in the area. Bandric points up to the apex of the roof. “There, in the little door is a watchman. I can get him from here.”
“Just don’t let him fall out of the building.”
“Don’t you trust my skills?”
Several answers at the same time, “No.”
Bandric licks the feathers and takes careful aim. After agonizing seconds, the soft twang of the bowstring sounds. The arrow hits the guard in the neck up into the head. “Gotcha!” Then the body bends over. “No, no.” The guard struggles to stay standing but finally falls forward out of the door. His body lands on the ground just as the water wheel groans loudly. “Whew, that was lucky.”
The other Dungeon Knights look at Bandric and shake their heads. Gûltar orders, “Let’s move out.” The six adventurers hustle towards the door and open it. There they find several cultists enjoying a game of cards. The heroes dispatch the ill-prepared villains in seconds. “Quickly, move to the next room!”
Bandric opens the next door and says, “Clear…huh”. A large rope loops around his head and tightens. From the shadowy corner of the main room, a humanoid shape coil of rope steps out into the light. Its other hand slams into Merimonwë knocking her back a few feet.
Chalándril exclaims, “What is that?”
The sound of a door slamming shut comes from behind the adventurers. Kotyka yells, “One of the cultists is getting away.”
“We don’t have time for him. Focus on saving Bandric and killing this rope monster.”
The rope creature flips Bandric in the air and slams him onto the floor. His body goes limp. Gûltar steps and swings at the rope creature. His weapon barely leaves a mark. Silent and emotionless, the rope creature uses both arms to slam Merimonwë again. Her body goes limp too. As Chalándril unleashes her healing aura burst, Tolok casts a burst of flames upon the rope creature. The flames linger on the rope for moments but eventually fade. Gûltar hews into the rope and chops of a few chunks from the main mass.
Bandric and Merimonwë wake from their bout of unconsciousness. Unarmed, Bandric searches his pack for a little vial. “Here it is, alchemical fire.” He throws the little bomb onto the rope creatures setting it on fire.
The rope creature tries to loop around Kotyka’s limbs but she proves too nimble for it to catch. Gûltar continues to hack into the ropes until the humanoid shape ceases to move. The piles of cut and frayed rope litter the floor. Tolok takes a few moments to study the rope and says, “I believe this was some sort of magical golem set up as a guardian.”
Chalándril says, “Let’s heal up and search this place.” Several minutes later, Kotyka uncovers a satchel filled with antidote serum. The Dungeon Knights take what they can carry and rush back to the road to search for the missing cultist.
Bandric picks up the trail just outside the mill. He stalks the trail for an hour. The Dungeon Knights reach the location of the lone cultist. There, resting at the side of a tree is a woman wearing expensive riding outfit and high boots. Her hair is braided and neck adorned with jewelry.
Bandric steps into view with the others, ‟Lady Rhulat, we’ve been sent by the Baron, prepare to die.”
‟Not today I think.” says the baronial concubine. ‟Summon swarm!”
Bandric shoots several arrows into Rhulat. Blood spreads out of the wounds, ruining her splendid outfit. Tolok shoots rays of acid at Rhulat. The others approach the woman. A spider swarm appears all over Bandric and the others. Rhulat laughs and coughs up blood.
The spider covered dwarf steps forward and hews the head off the pretty lady. ‟Spider bites don’t bother me, miss.”
‟They bother me,” adds Bandric.
-
The Dungeon Knights arrive back at the keep with more antidote and Rhulat’s head in a sack. Chalándril says, “Baron, this should be enough for your daughter and any others who may have Green Spot Fever. We also found some additional notes on the recipe for the antidote.”
“Thank you all for your help and dedication to the true mission. I will never forget how you helped save my daughter.” replies the Baron. ‟And rid me of a treacherous lover.”
The Dungeon Knights bow. They retire to the waiting room in the keep. The Chamberlain says, “Please wait here.”
“Of course.” Chalándril continues,
The Vizier approaches, ‟Dungeon Knights, we have another mission for you. The Baron wishes to bring some of the antitoxin and healing salves to one of the remote posts, Fort Woodsreach. Please deliver this box to the captain of Woodsreach.”
‟We will be honored.”
Will the antitoxin help the remote fort? What evil lurks in the wild hinterlands? Find out next issue.
=======================================================================
Location: Thanhal Keep
Dungeon Knight Roster:
Bandric (Human Ranger 7)
Chalándril (Half-human Cleric 7)
Gûltar (Dwarf Fighter 7)
Kotyka (Half-ork Rogue 7)
Merimonwë (Elf Sorcerer 7)
Tolok (Gnome Wizard/Conjurist 7)
=======================================================================
“I so want to pop that pimple.” – Bandric
=======================================================================
