Rustic Village

Mood: Pass through the village gates into a bustling market place where merchants shout their wares and a traveling minstrel plays for coin on a mat near the well.
Smells like: Bread baking in earthen ovens, apples piled in market stalls, and evergreen boughs cut from the nearby forest.
Scent Strength: Medium

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The trees thin and the winding forest path grows broader. Ahead stands a rough wooden palisade with an open gate. A single guard in worn leather armor eyes the party of adventurers as they approach.

"We're a peaceful town. We don't be wanting any trouble," he says.

The party bard, always silver of tongue, assures the man they mean him and his neighbors no harm. They are but a humble band of adventurers. Perhaps he can trade a song or two for a meal at the local inn?

The guard waves the group in to a market square. A handful of shops offer food and merchandise, and at the far end a small tavern stands with a sign reading, "The Frothing Mug."

This is a good place to rest.