StingyParrot

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?))
"I'm from- (gestures vaguely to the left) -far away, and I seek lodging."
She responds, "Ah, you'll be wanting the Gilded Duck, across the street. If it's food you want as well, ask for the meat surprise. Then you might get actual meat, or you'll get old turnip in gravy."

I look at her carefully, wondering whether to laugh or take her advice seriously. I settle on neither, instead asking her where the main highway is.

"Well, you'll want to wait a little, as the morning fog's too thick to see through, and head on through Second street and turn left at the odd-looking tree, the one that looks like a - ah, you'll know it when you see it."
I thank her for her advice and begin to exit. But as I do, she holds out her hand and slips a small amulet into my palm. I glance at her in surprise, not expecting another Mystic to be so near my destination. "Long live the Traitor King." I repeat the passphrase and exit quickly, thoughts whirling through my mind. But first, I tell myself, let's see how old turnip in gravy tastes.