The humble hamlet lies deathly silent. In fact, ever since our band of peasants on pilgrimage entered this cursed fief, there had been no sign of life in the slightest. Just this curious black fog. Mayhaps the King called his banner men to war? With pikes in shaky hand, our worried wonderers enter the gate, praying for an inn or abbey to start a roaring fire and drink endless mead. They continue down the narrow cobblestone roads of the village, and still not a friar or apostate is found. That is, until they turn the corner to the village square. Then it hits them. The stench of death. Crows scream with gore in their beaks. Lord and fishmonger, knight and flatulent, lay in piles of green rotting awful and puss. One of our travelers coughs. It’s too late, it spreads quickly. Aubrey Del Mar and Omēga host the next edition of Coven, featuring a courages cast of medieval mommas.