A quick Google image search for “Death Knight” yields this. If only the real Death Knight were this animatedly sexy!

Welcome to Dungeons & Dragons – The Death Knight’s Squire! Last time our hero, Milhouse the Scholar, learned that a couple of nobility had their grandson ripped from their hands by a jerk knight with the intention of making him his squire. So that’s where the title of the adventure comes from! Game over. Go home.

I think today I will finally fumble through some actual gameplay. Keep in mind: I have no idea what I’m doing! I’m playing as a wizard, and wizards come with extremely complicated rules regarding their magic that I neither understand nor condone learning about. It’s hard enough getting that shit to work in Baldur’s Gate! So let’s see how this all shakes out.

I am presented with a blurb on how my adventure begins: It’s dawn the next day. Milhouse obviously didn’t lose sleep over this mission while Lord and Lady Brewmont chewed off their fingernails in anxiety. He saddles his horse and rides to the outskirts of the town of Orlbar to the foresty forest of Weathercote Wood. It’s a short ride; he could’ve walked his fat ass but deigned not to! The Captain of the Guard tells him the the Death Knight hangs out on the west side of Weathercote Wood because, I don’t know, it’s shadier.

Milhouse comes across a sign that tells him that Weathercote Wood is 15 miles away, so it’s not a short ride! That’s a long ride! Horses can only go, what, 1.5 miles per hour? Do I have that right? Anyway, shortly after seeing the sign Milhouse comes across a small inn and tavern in the middle of nowhere. He spots an old man rocking in a chair with a tankard of ale, getting drunk in the middle of the day as one does in the world of Dungeons and Dragons. The old man offers Milhouse to sit and enjoy some ale with him. I’m prompted with my first choice:

-Do you accept the old man’s invitation?
-Are you mindful of the time and choose to ride on?

Why not?! Milhouse will enjoy some watered-down ale with the crazy old man! I tie up my horse by its neck to a telephone pole of sorts and sit down next to the grizzled old geezer with the six teeth in his head. There is also some delicious stew, the kind that would make even Carl Weathers jealous. “What brings you this way?” the old man asks.

-Do you tell him of your quest?
-Do you simply replenish yourself and be on your way?

WANNA SHARE A PINT, YOU YOUNG WHIPPER SNAPPER YOU??

This old man seems friendly and unassuming enough. Milhouse starts telling him about his quest. He literally spills the beans about everything: Lord and Lady Brewmont, the missing grandson Darek, his lavish collection of colorful dildoes. Everything. The old man takes it all in with rapt attention. “The Death Knight,” he says quietly. “Local legend, they say, but ah…” he trails off. Intrigued, Milhouse asks for the goods. Here’s what the old man tells him: The Death Knight ain’t no legend! He was a young boy when they hanged him in Weathercote Wood. The Death Knight was a good man once, honest. No foolin’. His wife died of the pox (small- or chicken-, it’s unclear), he took in his son as his squire. But then a band of brigands attacked, shot the knight with a poison dart, and kidnapped his wretched son. When he woke up, he found a note that demanded the knight to rob the treasury in Orlbar and deliver the gold to the brigands. He acquiesced, but the town guard pursued him (yeah right, cops in real life don’t do shit). When the brigands caught wind of the fuzz hot on the knight’s tail, they killed his son by throwing him in a self-driving car and running him off a cliff. When the knight found his son’s body, he vowed vengeance. After killing any guard who chased after him, the knight followed the brigands into the Weathercote Wood and lost their trail. Livid! Mad with bloodlust! Arrrrgghhh! Justice will be served and no one will stand in the knight’s way lest they want to be poked full of holes by his sharp, scary sword!

Then he was caught and was hanged right there on the Red Tree in the wood. Whoopsy-daisy! But guess what, this is the twist that no one saw: the Death Knight haunts Weathercote Wood to this day. And, every few years, he kidnaps a boy to make him his squire. He needs help with his quest for vengeance, you see, and nothing like a frail, little hapless boy to aid someone with such a quest for vengeance I always say!

Milhouse kisses the old man goodbye and is on his way. 55 miles later, he reaches Weathercote Wood. It’s thick with trees and shit, as most woods are. Somewhere in here is Darek Brewmont, and Milhouse will be fucked if he doesn’t find him before his throat is slit from ear to ear. He decides to set up camp for the night on the edge of the wood and soon falls into a deep, cozy sleep. He wakes just before dawn, fully rested and not at all killed by bears. But a noise instantly puts him on his guard! A wet, slavering sound! He picks up his nerdy quarterstaff and treads lightly. Something hears Milhouse approach and starts running away.

What Milhouse finds ain’t pretty. His horse has been attacked and mortally wounded, which sucks because now he’s 55 miles from civilization and these woods are creepy and scary. Milhouse does the humane thing and smacks the horse around with his quarterstaff until it dies. No one will be feasting on horse meat today, sadly.

Heh heh heh. Just like The Godfather.

He enters deeper into the wood to the cheerful sound of chirping birds. Welcome to Weathercote Wood, Milhouse the Scholar! What will you be doing next?

-Move with stealth. Make a stealth check (DC12). Rolled 15 (+3) = 18. Hell yeah! I can add 10 points to and d100 rolls on Tilepage 1! Ha ha! What?

Would Milhouse check for traps? He’s a very careful little scamp, always thoughtful and cautious. How about yes?

-Check for traps. Make a perception check (DC12). Rolled 17 (+0) = 17. That was easy.

Milhouse checks thoroughly for traps, including bear traps, tripwires, holes with leaves covering them, and large cages ready to fall from trees. Nothing is found, so a false sense of security has been firmly fixed in his mind. He presses forward into the wood ever so slowly. The following is the map I’m going off of, I’m currently in Tilepage 1 and approaching the green dot at the intersection.

The green dot is an encounter! Oh boy! What have I bumped into? A wraith? A gnoll? Uh… a gelatinous cube? Let’s find out!

Milhouse thinks he heard something rustling in the ol’ woods, but it was just some dumbshit bird. That was underwhelming. Bolstering himself, puffing out his chest, he takes a right turn and does a little skip.

That’s it for now! Milhouse hasn’t had to kick any ass yet, but I have a funny feeling that he’s going to eat his butt on a silver plate pretty soon. Until next time, dorks.