The Fortunes of A Queen
The scorching sun does not seem to spare you in the slightest. You are getting tired of walking and straying further from your initial path — oh, what is that? You perk up as soon as you just barely see a shaded spot by a waterhole through the blinding sunlight. The weariness in your step disappears and you pad to the shade quickly. Almost stumbling over your own toes, you stop and rest your heavy form against the tree. A glint quickly catches your attention once more — there are wares laid out on a flat rock just beside you. Another rock, perched up vertically beside the one mentioned prior, seems to have carved writing. "These wares are for the wanderers who know the worth. You may take anything you'd like, as long as you leave us something in return."
