Welcome to Dungeons & Dragons – The Death Knight’s Squire! Last time our hero, Milhouse the Scholar, explored a crypt, almost got killed by a very scythe-riddled trap, and then stumbled upon what looks like the Death Knight himself scaring the bejesus out of Darek Brewmont! Is this the end? Or is this a red herring for more adventure? Will the Death Knight kill Milhouse dead forever? Will I watch Young Sheldon with America’s Sweetheart Wallace Shawn? I’m guessing the answer to at least one of these is “hell fucking no” and it might be the last one!

This appears to be a Squiring ceremony, and, as it turns out, it’s very unsettling and creepy. The Death Knight, as he appears to be, is this hulking figuring illuminated in an eerie blue light. Darek Brewmont, as he’s presumed to be, looks like a sniveling little dork. Even more so than Milhouse himself, and he’s pretty dorky in his own right.

-Since I succeeded in an early stealth check by the skin of my sharp little elf teeth, I get to sneak up to the behemoth armored man without my head getting sworded off. Not yet, at least.

Hey, kids! Abracadabra!

Milhouse ducks behind a big pile of rusty metal barrel hoops! The Death Knight doesn’t notice, probably because he’s too busy trying to make this Darek kid his unwilling squire. Since he doesn’t want anyone to become an unwilling squire today, Milhouse starts wiggling his fingers and prepares for a spell.

-OK, the Death Knight’s AC is 15. d20 + Intelligence (+3) + Proficiency Bonus (+4) = … 15 + 3 + 4 = 22. *dusts off hands like it was nothing*. OK, I’m going to use Magic Missile because that spell rules. 3(1d4 + 1) = 3 + 5 + 3 = 11 damage. Not too shabby unless this fucker ends up having 75 HP. Then I’m going to be a bloody smear on the floor pretty soon.

Milhouse zaps the Death Knight in the chest with his little fingertips of fury! The armored beast roars like this: “ROOOAAAARR!” Milhouse fist pumps in the air. “Aaargh! Who dares enter my chamber?!” the Death Knight bellows. He immediately sees Milhouse ducking in the corner like a weak little mouse and grabs his sword. “Ah! There you are. So foolish, to enter here unaccompanied! And now, you shall pay for your foolishness!”

-Roll initiave, son. I get 12. The Death Knight gets 12. Does this mean I try again? Oh wait, his initiative bonus is +1. Gosh dang it.

The Death Knight stares down at Milhouse and shoots him a terrifying, self-satisfied smile. “HA HA HA HAAAA!” he booms, filling the chamber with a laugh that sounds like bones rattling around a garbage disposal. Darek Brewmont cowers in the corner. The whole room is filled with an air of tension and the smell of pooped pants. And then, suddenly, the Death Knight lashes out with his longsword!

-Wisdom Saving Throw (DC 13) = 12 + 2 = 14/ No penalty to attacks. I am also told to eat my disgusting Grakspores, so I shove them down my throat so hard I accidentally almost push them out my butthole.

-“Roll a d20, adding 5. If the result is higher than your AC (Milhouse’s AC is 13), roll damage (1d8+3).” All right, let’s see how this pans out. d20 + 5 = 21. Good job, ol’ boy. 1d8+3 = 6. Not so great, but I’ll take it.

“Darek!” Milhouse shouts from the corner of the chamber. He’s trying to get the boy’s attention, but the boy is shivering in a pool of his own piss. “I could really use some help right now!” He throws Darek his dagger with which he can use to cut through the bonds on his wrists and help in the fray. Then Milhouse grabs his quarterstaff and prepares his attack!

The Knight of Death descends upon ye!

-d20 -1 + 4 = 17, which beats Death’s Knight’s AC 15. Quarteraff attack = 1d6 – 1 = 2. Well, that’s underwhelming. Taken with the earlier Magic Missile hit, Death Knight has lost 19 HP so far. He’s down to 9 HP. Watch how quickly this bastard’s going to kill me. It’s going to be brutal.

“Damn you, interloper!” the Death Knight roars. “You will not rob me of my squire, as those wretches robbed me of my boy so long ago! AAAARRRGGGHHH!!!!” Oh, he’s mad now. He’s super mad. All Milhouse can do is put his arms up and close his eyes tightly while the Death Knight seems absolutely out of his fucking mind with rage.

-Since this bastard is enraged, he gets advantage. Two dice rolls. d20 + 5 = 9 + 5 = 14. Well, since my AC is 13 he doesn’t even need to roll a second time. He hits. 1d8 + 4 = 5, so I lucked out with the weakest possibly hit from him. I’m down to 7 HP.

Darek has managed to cut himself free with the dagger that Milhouse threw him, so the boy isn’t entirely useless! The boy looks like he’s regained a modicum of composure and, Milhouse notices, there’s even a little fire in his eyeballs! He’s happy to have Darek on his side! Or at least something that can hold a dagger. Milhouse would even take a potted plant right now if it could swing a weapon.

-Rolling initiative for Darek gets him a 9, so he’ll attack after Milhouse. Darek’s HP is 4. He’s going to die right away. Anyway, I take my turn and do RAY OF FRROOOOOOOSSST!!! But first, of course, I have to d20 + 3 + 4 = 19 + 3 + 4 = 26, so of course I’m going to fucking hit him. Ray of Frost = 1d8 + 3 = 7 + 3 = 10. This is actually going to kill him! Milhouse gains 200 XP.

“Take this, you dastardly Death Knight!” Milhouse screams as beams of cold ice blare out of his fingers. The Death Knight screams and writhes and gesticulates in the air with terror and reckless abandon, knocking the walls and letting rocks tumble to the floor! Then he collapses in a heap.

The Death Knight has been slain!

RIP, bitch!

Milhouse steps over the corpse. Well, the undead corpse. The Death Knight was definitely not alive in the “alive” sense, of course. Sweat pours down Milhouse’s face as he huffs and puffs and pants. He looks to Darek Brewmont, who also has a face of triumph and victory even though he didn’t even lift one finger to help stop the Knight. “Do you have the stake?” Darek Brewmont asks. “From the Red Tree, do you have a stake? You must pierce him through the heart, quickly!”

The red walking stick is near the cavern entrance. Milhouse quickly scurries over to the branch, grabs it, and sticks the business end right into the Death Knight’s chest. Just forces it in there with all the strength that he can muster. It doesn’t take long before the remains crumble into a pile of ashes. Without missing a beat, Milhouse grabs Darek by the arm. “Let’s go,” he says hurriedly and pulls the kid out of the chamber, out the entrance of the crypt, and across the cemetery. “Oh shit,” Milhouse thinks, cutting his victory celebration short. “I still have a pact with the Blood Knight! Damnit!”

Milhouse tries to put that thought out of his head as he and Darek travel north. This is the northern edge of Weathercote Wood; it opens to wide grasslands. The sky threatens rain, and Milhouse realizes that they’ll never make ground on foot. “Look, over there!” Milhouse cries. A farmhouse on the wood’s edge — a stable with one horse. And no one around. “We need to take that horse!”

Darek gibbers, but ultimately concedes because he doesn’t have a say in the matter. Backtalk will get the kid a little smack. The two mount up and ride away as the farmer leaves his front door shaking his fist. “I’ll get yoooouuuuu…” the old farmer says lazily.

Before the sun drops below the cloudy evening sky, Milhouse and Darek reach Orlbar. His grandparents are grateful to see their young grandson again! It’s anticlimactic to say the least. “You shall be rewarded, brave champion, Lord Brewmont promises, his eyes misting over. “On the morrow, I shall go to the Orlbar bank, and–”

Milhouse cuts him off. The Blood Knight will assuredly chase him down with his army of cultists, and the last thing Milhouse wants is to put the town of Orlbar in danger. “Oh…” says Lord Brewmont. “You don’t want, like, whatever’s in my pocket?” He fishes around and finds only lint, but Lady Brewmont unclasps her necklace and places it in Milhouse’s hand. He palms it. “Sell this,” she says. “And don’t take anything less than 700 gold for it!”

With a gracious thank you and you’re welcome, Milhouse mounts the horse and rides into the night as the Brewmonts wave. Everyone lives happily ever after.

Excelsior!

-Milhouse gains 400 XP. He’s at Level 3! And he’s got plenty of treasure and coin jangling in his pockets. I’ll keep him around for the sequel to this adventure, Tyrant of Zhentil Keep. Until then, roll dem dice! Or whatever.