GM: You march forth, into the Valley of Fire. Blackened branches reach out to grab you, and the newly-sprouted scrub on the ground occasionally rustles or hisses at you. The darkening sky seems to make the branches come to life, so you’re grateful when the path opens up and branches out, left or right. The canyon to the left seems peaceful, until you hear the groan of a lonely, and large, bear come from that direction. To the right, you can make out the sound of distant falling water.
PC: Clearly, I choose