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.” "I am not here to tell my tale, woman. I do, however... require your aid." Edwin flipped open the small pouch that dangled from his belt. A gloved palm dove within to unveil a small amulet.
It was roughly half the size of his palm and designed after a beast, a snarling Ildician Baer in silver. It glimmered in the dim candlelight, its eyes flickering red. "This... trinket." He started, the grim line of his mouth hardening further. His words were devoid of any warmth. "Ever since this trinket fell into my hands, strange things have begun to occur." Edwin continued, his words measured and careful. "Accidents, illnesses, ailments... I fear it may be more than mere misfortune."
He lobbed the amulet onto the worn table that separated the pair, the clink of metal banging on wood echoing throughout the tent. "I need to know if this amulet is the source... and I need it destroyed if that is the case."
Behind the accursed amulet trailed the small sack of coarse burlap, secured by a small strand of twine. The chime of coin could only confirm its contents. "Will this suffice?" Edwin inquired.
