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.”
Surprised by the hags claim of anticipation, Nils hesitates for a moment before taking a seat on the offered cushion. "I'm in search of a particular creature," he admits, eyes meeting hers with a mix of curiosity and caution. "A poisonous toad to be exact. Legends say its venom when prepared with the right potion, holds the rmedy for a close friend's rare sickness."
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