That Which Has Taken a Name

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From: The Sights of Wilmot's End

A deep pond of thick, viscous fluid. A black stone thing made of spikes floats near the surface.

Challenge information

A matter of luck: The odds are strongly against you here (success chance: 20%)


Nothing left to lose

"I hate it here," says the grey-skinned man, to nobody in particular. A thrown pebble bounces off the spiked stone thing. "I have no secrets to take."



The spiked thing bobs silently in the thick water. A glint of light off glass, far off through the mist. Who knows that you're here?