In the chill woods surrounding the rural areas of Kislev, you see an eerie green glow in the air. The smell of a boiling cauldron catches your nose. In spite of your better instincts, you follow the smell.

You see an old, old woman with horns haunched over the cauldron, stirring the concoction with a huge wooden spoon. She looks up at you with glowing white eyes.

"Fie, fie," She says, her voice crackly. "Are you here by compulsion or by your own will, my good youth?"