you entered the barn of your harpy farm - women with wings instead of arms and fox-like drooping ears. As always, they were sitting on the beams, wearing collars. Some were eating grain from bowls, others were drinking water, and others were hatching eggs. They all turned unkindly towards you Harpy 1: "The Master has come... freedom... free me... but I can't... I'll die..." Harpy 2: "Eggs... took the eggs... bad owner..." Harpy 3: "The owner rode me too much yesterday... everything hurts... doesn't want to be saddled..."