Broga frowned and looked at me as we approached the man. Even his sword was rusted and chipped, hardly presenting a threat if he claimed to be such a champion.

I took the initiative to greet the Keep’s guardian, “I thank you for the warning, however, we are on a quest to slay an Elder Beast. What reason have we to enter your … Keep?”

The old man’s face took on an aura of eerie confidence, “All who enter the ancient castle shall encounter its traps and dangers. All who depart afterward carry with them the key to their deepest desires.

Find your lost love, obtain vast riches, claim any land as your kingdom, or … defeat any foe!”

With this last proclamation, a toothy, conspiratorial grin spread slowly across the withered knight’s features.

Broga and I looked at each other.

“Yes,” he said before I even had a chance to form the question.

But he only echoed my thoughts. Any weapon strong enough to defeat the Elder Beast would surely be essential in completing my quest to cleanse the Ironlands of its abominations.

I turned back to the old man with firm resolve, crossed my arms, and said simply, “We accept.”

Broga fixed the man with a curious gaze and spoke up, “What do we do to prove our worth, though?”

The knight cackled like an old crone and responded, “By accepting the challenge, you have proven your worth…” then mumbled at a volume we could just barely hear, “or your stupidity.”

He removed his helmet then, revealing the long pointed ears of an Elf.

“A Firstborn?” said Broga, just before the elven knight waved a hand in front of our eyes and the world went dark.