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26

You journey to the Distant Woods (which turn out to be aptly named, but at least they aren’t called the You Can’t Get There From Here Woods). The breeze is cool, sunlight filters through the canopy of trees, giving it a soothing, ethereal greenish tinge, and all around you, you hear the merry chirping of sparrows and other violent, filthy animals that would no doubt love to tear you limb from limb and feed your bloody carcass to their hellish spawn. All in all, it’s a lovely day.

You come to a fork in the path, and a rough signpost offers you three choices: