"It is with great hope and expectation I send you on this mission," the Grand  
Inquisitor intones, his voice booming like distant, rumbling thunderheads. "We 
have discovered what appears to be a piece of the Great Underground Empire,    
never before explored. I would have sent Grubald the Bold, but he's busy. As is
Matchlick the Mighty. So, 'tis you."                                           
                                                                               
"What of Linklaw the Lucky?" you ask shyly.                                    
                                                                               
"Laid up. I'm afraid 'tis you and none other. A simple, solo quest, one of fun 
and mirth, mischief and merriment, a jaunt, an excursion, a simple outing.     
Merely explore, enjoy yourself, and bring back news of what lies there, long-  
ago buried for countless ages."                                                
                                                                               
"And Fretsham the Fortunate?" you ask hopefully.                               
                                                                               
"A fatality!" the Inquisitor booms. "Here," he says with evaporating patience, 
"take these and be of good cheer." He thrusts into your hands two things: a    
brass lantern of dubious quality; and a plastic sword of no antiquity or use   
whatsoever.                                                                    
                                                                               
"But what of Kolchack the --"                                                  
                                                                               
"Enough! Kolchack is contracted. Remember, who is the boss of you!"  He pauses 
briefly as if awaiting a reply. Then without warning, he answers his own       
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