Terror of Ladon
Oct 13, 2026 · 12 min · 8 segments
The hyperlink below is to buy us a cup of coffee. We thank you in advance. \[Buy Us a Coffee Link] https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/thebindchat Welcome to \*The Blind Chat Podcast\*, hosted by John…
Oct 13, 2026 · 12 min · 8 segments
The hyperlink below is to buy us a cup of coffee. We thank you in advance. \[Buy Us a Coffee Link] https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/thebindchat Welcome to \*The Blind Chat Podcast\*, hosted by John…
Our story begins in the remote, wealthy territory of Leyden, the Council of Leyden, the sound of heavy rain lashing against stained glass windows.
Footsteps pace back and forth on creaking hardwood.
Mayor Joseph is pacing, rubbing his temples.
The town treasury is sitting in the corner, but it can't buy peace of mind.
Sitting at the long mahogany table are his top three advisors.
The mood is pitch black.
The mayor stops his pacing and turns to his first advisor, Councilman Vane, the battle-scarred head of the local guard, Mayor Joseph.
Vane, report.
Tell me we found the scouting party.
Tell me something went right, Councilman Vane.
Sighs heavily, the sound of armor clinking.
Nothing, Mayor.
We tracked their footprints right up to the perimeter of that thing.
Then nothing.
No signs of a struggle.
No blood.
Just empty boots left on the grass.
I tried to send a second squad of seasoned mercenaries yesterday to see if they could get closer.
They didn't even make it to the courtyard.
Something invisible tore them to pieces.
My guards are terrified, Joseph.
They're refusing to patrol the northern borders.
We are completely defenseless, Mayor Joseph.
We can't just lock our gates and pray, Vane.
The mayor turns to Councilwoman Mara, the town's spiritual leader and historian who has spent the last 48 hours buried in ancient texts.
Our story begins in the remote, wealthy territory of Leyden, the Council of Leyden, the sound of heavy rain lashing against stained glass windows.
Footsteps pace back and forth on creaking hardwood.
Mayor Joseph is pacing, rubbing his temples.
The town treasury is sitting in the corner, but it can't buy peace of mind.
Sitting at the long mahogany table are his top three advisors.
The mood is pitch black.
The mayor stops his pacing and turns to his first advisor, Councilman Vane, the battle-scarred head of the local guard, Mayor Joseph.
Vane, report.
Tell me we found the scouting party.
Tell me something went right, Councilman Vane.
Sighs heavily, the sound of armor clinking.
Nothing, Mayor.
We tracked their footprints right up to the perimeter of that thing.
Then nothing.
No signs of a struggle.
No blood.
Just empty boots left on the grass.
I tried to send a second squad of seasoned mercenaries yesterday to see if they could get closer.
They didn't even make it to the courtyard.
Something invisible tore them to pieces.
My guards are terrified, Joseph.
They're refusing to patrol the northern borders.
We are completely defenseless, Mayor Joseph.
We can't just lock our gates and pray, Vane.
The mayor turns to Councilwoman Mara, the town's spiritual leader and historian who has spent the last 48 hours buried in ancient texts.
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