Crossroad Mire was particularly quiet this spring. Usually, by now, a few weary travellers, or careless inhabitants, would have been devoured whole by the vicious bayou 'gators as they begin to emerge from their eggs. The first death at the hand of these savage animals unofficially marked the start of spring for the residents here, but things were quiet this year. These fearsome beasts played an all too important part of the eco-system. If, by eco-system, you meant the diet of the Mirefolk. Hagglesnip's 'gator gumbo was a delicacy that the folk here waited months for. Something was amiss in the swamp, folks had gotten restless and begun to hurl drunkards into the murky waters, yet the results were the same. The 'gators weren't biting, in fact, nobody had seen a single sign of them.
