You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
((How do you respond?))
Marigold sits at the table and wrings her hands in aprehension, ""Ah yes, I have gathered much knowledge in my drifting travels and have heard of you. I've come a long way since my days playing as a child in the Mooshroom fields, and have honed my survival skills as an outcast. Ever since I was a little halfling I have been gathering trinkets from the forest" Marigold draws a key from one of her many pouches and clutches it to her chest, "I have been keeping this key safe, I found it buried underground." She takes the key and sets it on the table in front of the crone, Marigold's cold blue eyes rise to meet her. "I may not know if this is the final stop on my journey, but I do know it's an important one. Let's sit together and brew some mushroom tea. If you can help me with safe passage, I will trade you for this key." Marigold stands and presses the key into the table with a "clunk" and withdraws two cakes wrapped in paper and sets them on the table between them.
![](http://cdn.lordofthecraft.net/monthly_2024_05/2020_06_03_cuthaill-riding-gear-bwrp-14515675.png.11e1cda429ff3e38d82367ff062d4b1c.png)
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