The merchant grinned “Dear sir, I noticed you had your eye on that charm. Might I interest you in a little bit of its history? Of course I would. I will have you know, that charm has seen its way through many an adventure, and saved the lives of many of the adventurers therein. Legend tells that it was crafted centuries ago by Yurid Norcral, the greated Dwarven runesmith to ever live. Later it was said to have been enchanted by ancient Elven magics which have since been lost to the ages. Quite a rare find.”
The road has never been more than an overgrown mud track, little travelled and little cared for, petered out to nothing more than a flattened earthen line, barely distinguishable from the rest of the landscape. The soil is dark and fecund and dark oaks stand like sentinels at the forest edge, their branches high and leafy. From them hang grizzly human bones, skulls and shiny precious stones. Who put these strange totems there? Are they warnings? Do the PCs dare to take the stones?