Figmentling's Clan

As you make your way through the boggy mire of the Driftwood Drag, you feel the skin on your neck prickle. You aren't alone.

Faint lights surround you in the underbrush. They aren't bioluminescent mushrooms. They are eyes. Many, many gleaming eyes.

The dragons of Figmentling's Clan ooze out of their hiding places in the shadows, grinning delighted grins (full of many sharp teeth).

"A visitor!" they giggle. "A visitor to play games with us, yesssssssss."

With playful snaps, they herd you into their den, a camouflaged lair whose entrance is built into a hollow tree stump and protected with brambles.

Inside, it is remarkably cozy. Despite the marshy terrain it is dry and snug. A massive hoard of boardgames weighs heavily on many crude shelves, and there is a large table. The legs are well-worn and slightly chewed on but the surface is polished to a shine.

Figmentling is sitting at the table. She greets you and sets out guacamole and a massive bowl of blue corn chips. You would find it comforting, except that you can't help but notice the way her dragons stand between you and the door at all times, their eyes keenly focused on you.

"What game would you like to play?" she asks. Her eyes glint exactly like her dragons' eyes and her smile is predatory and delighted.