61 A Little Distressing Time . . .

I leaped off the wagon and approached Dementia.

"Looks like your journey was a success," she said as soon as I was near her.

I replied, "Yeah. I got plenty of tokens to save my territory for the potential flood."

Dementia briefly looked at the players in the wagon, just in time to see the carriage quake as the players thrashed the wooden planks. Their miserable howls racked the tranquillity of the forest. 

Based on the horror on their faces, it was safe to assume they knew who Dementia was. After all, the tale of the Old Hag, who could change her appearance to lure in ignorant travelers in Shadow Forest, was popular.

"I see that you've brought me . . . gifts," Dementia slurred, long nails skimming across her lips.

"Ah. These are my payments. I'm here to buy your latest brew," I immediately corrected her. 

"Looks like you liked my previous gifts."

I shrugged. "Yeah. They're very handy."