Quest
It runs its long sticky tongue along its prison-bar teeth, sickly-bright red over dull yellow. “What you bring for it?”
I shake the lumpy things from my sack. Even after washing the malevolent odor is enough to make a strong woman reel. “Will this be enough?”
It lifts one in its gnarled claw, licks the thing. “Ooh. It like. Fresh.”
“Damn straight, they are.” I’d spent hours hacking the things from the corpulent bellies of swamp frogs.
“Here is your payment.”
I look into the bag. “Wait!” I shout, but it’s long gone.
Damned NPC stiffed me again.
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