Setting the Scene
The wagon creaks to a halt at the forest's edge. Ancient oaks loom before you, their branches intertwined like gnarled fingers against the darkening sky. A mist rolls between the trunks, carrying with it the sound of distant whispers.
"This is as far as I go," the wagon driver mutters, avoiding eye contact. "The road ends here. Whatever business you have in Davokar... may the gods protect you."
What do you do?