The smoke of a cooking fire is the first sign of the rough but lived-in camp made up of crude huts and hovels, incongruously festooned with fineries raided from unsuspecting travelers. Brigands make this place their home, and if these feral robbers caught wind of your presence, they would certainly do what they could to silence you. For this is a place that must remain secret, to keep their necks out of the nooses of lawmen.

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