Erika's adventuring career had taken an unfortunate turn.
Captured alive by the Dungeon Mistress herself, she had endured a series of humiliations at the hands of the dungeon's monsters before finally being selected for a special role.
Now she stood chained to an ancient sacrificial site atop a grassy hill overlooking the old road. Though beyond the dungeon's walls, the hill was still part of its domain. Travelers could spot her from a considerable distance, framed between two weathered stone pillars whose grinning faces seemed to mock her predicament.
The Dungeon Mistress claimed that the chains binding Erika were cursed. No lockpick, spell, or brute force could break them. The only key was said to be hidden somewhere deep within the dungeon itself.
The message was clear: adventurers seeking to rescue Erika would first have to succeed where she had failed.
For the Dungeon Mistress, it was an elegant arrangement. Erika served as a warning to would-be heroes, an advertisement for the dungeon's challenge, and a lure for ambitious rescuers all at once.
Not everyone traveling the old road was an adventurer, however. The first visitors had been harmless enough.
Tiny winged creatures circled lazily overhead, keeping a cautious distance while they studied the dungeon's latest exhibit. A curious sprite had even landed on one of the stone pillars for several minutes before darting away. Erika suspected news of her predicament was spreading through the forest faster than she would have liked.
As the afternoon sun sank lower, a band of goblins emerged from the nearby woods. Spotting the dungeon's newest attraction atop the hill, they exchanged excited grins and hurried forward to get a closer look.