In the southernmost reaches of the southernmost lands, among sun-baked golden hills and rocky ruins, the cities of Gor Kull offer travelers and citizens a plethora of sinful concoctions, powders, and draughts, born of a wicked desire to addle the mind and befuddle the eye. Yet, should ye wish to arm oneself with knowledge against such evil brews, I present such guide.
Loud war-screams shatter the silence of the forest. The party, scrambling quickly over the thick forest floor, are ambushed by savage elves, dropping down from the trees and rock outcroppings. Their hair is cropped into mohawks and their arms are striped with tattoos.
They attack, and scalp unfortunate victims.