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                __                             __                         __         _ __     
 _      _____  / /________  ____ ___  ___     / /_____     _      _____  / /_  _____(_) /____ 
| | /| / / _ \/ / ___/ __ \/ __ `__ \/ _ \   / __/ __ \   | | /| / / _ \/ __ \/ ___/ / __/ _ \
| |/ |/ /  __/ / /__/ /_/ / / / / / /  __/  / /_/ /_/ /   | |/ |/ /  __/ /_/ (__  ) / /_/  __/
|__/|__/\___/_/\___/\____/_/ /_/ /_/\___/   \__/\____/    |__/|__/\___/_.___/____/_/\__/\___/ 
                                                                                              
    
                __                        
 _      _____  / /________  ____ ___  ___ 
| | /| / / _ \/ / ___/ __ \/ __ `__ \/ _ \
| |/ |/ /  __/ / /__/ /_/ / / / / / /  __/
|__/|__/\___/_/\___/\____/_/ /_/ /_/\___/ 
                                          
    
You awake lying in a grassy field. The sky is aglow with dawn, and you have no recollection of how you arrived here. The only memory you have of the previous night are a few too many ales at the tavern and a gamble gone sour. You made a bet with a stoic newcomer... what was it? In any case, your GOLD SATCHEL is empty.

Your thoughts are cut short by the sound of hooves as a black stallion crosses the field towards you. Its rider slows and dismounts; a dark hood obscures his face.

> GREET THE CLOAKED FIGURE