Quest Story
Ghouls — the wretched things that fester on the edges of the living world, feeding on carrion and misfortune. Each night a fresh cluster of them shambles in from the deeper wastes, drawn by the smells of habitation. They rarely attack directly, but left unchecked they grow bolder. Eight of them tonight. There will be eight more tomorrow.
Eight ghouls reduced to stillness. The stench lingers on your clothes and gear as a reminder that this work has no end — only a nightly accounting, always in your favour if you are willing to keep showing up.