You spent a few more days riding through grassland on chill, misty days. You spend your nights listening to Linzi’s increasingly captivating renditions of your harrowing escape from the owlbear.
On 23 Pharast, you come upon a broken rope bridge still barely hanging over the Shrike river. Upon ringing the bell, a horrific undead man whom you took for Mr. Nettle (since a sign by the bell read “Nettle’s Crossing”), came out to greet you. Unlike most of the things you meet, Mr. Nettle didn’t want to fight you. He simply said that he wanted the Stag Lord dead, and he would reward you if you provide proof that you’ve killed him (by throwing his head and/or body in the river). You agreed.
A couple of days later you found a stash under a tree that looked like a huge claw reaching toward the gray sky. Buried between gnarled roots, you found a magical dagger and a book of spells, some pages ruined by water and age. A day or two later, you came upon the desiccated corpse of a man—killed by a giant trapdoor spider—who had a map to the buried stash in a leather pouch he’d carried. The map showed a drawing of the clawlike tree with the treasure marked at its base.
You killed the spider. Aside from a mean bite, it wasn’t much trouble.
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