In an inn where the adventurers frequently visit, either to share tales with other travelers or to rest after a perilous quest, there is this ugly old hag who sits at a corner in the shadows. Her face is wrinkled, only a few of her yellowed tooth are left and she is nearly bald, only with a few wisp of grey hair clunging on. As she listens to the tales of adventuring parties or the songs of bard, she would exclaim “Nonsense!” or “Bollocks!” From time to time she would even yell out, “You call that dangerous? Hmph!” Everyone else just seem to ignore her though.
- One rainy evening the inn is eeriely empty, with the inn-keeper almost half-asleep by the blazing fire. The old woman is still at her corner, rocking back and forth, mumbling. Suddenly she eyes the adventurers. “You got time to go questing for Old Mel, eh? Do you?” If the adventurers listen on or indicate interest, she would say, “I was jinxed by the love of my life. Went on to marry a highborn lady. Fie on them!! Their graves lay between two craven angel. I give you a handsome sum if you just dig them up to spite them. Go on! That wouldn’t be too hard for young toughs like you!” If the adventurers do as she suggested, they would be surprised that there were no bodies inside the grave, but rather a series of steps leading underground to a catacomb filled to the brim with traps and treasures. If the adventurers ever return to inn, they would never find Old Mel again. And when they ask around, no one have ever seemed her or heard her before!
- One fine night when another band of adventurers were boasting of their exploits, Old Mel began her diatribe again. New to the inn, and haughty men at that, one of the band threatened Old Mel with a sword and was immediately shot through the neck with a crossbow bolt. The patrons of the inn began to attack the band of men, driving them out or even killing them all while Old Meg cheers them on. Who is Old Mel? Why are the patrons defending her? Why do they even stand her?
- In one of the adventurers’ quest, they happen to come across Old Mel’s corpse, freshly killed as if raked to death by the fearsome claws of a beast. Yet when they return back to the inn, there is Old Mel again, calling bluffs at every tales and disrupting the songs of hapless minstrels at every opportunity. One of the adventurers may even fancy Old Mel looking at him with a wink! If the adventurers (dare) to approach the old hag, she would say, “Ahh…fancy some nice hunting? There’s a wild wolf-lordling in the forest which you might be able to take care of…”
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