Rory's Mystical Brew
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You have arrived at a small, ramshackle shop. The windows, covered in dust and dirt, aren't exactly a welcoming sight. The door, rusted and slightly ajar, beckons toward you. A tattered canvas sign above the awning contains the out of place, yet colorful words: Welcome to Rory the Red’s Mystical Brew Emporium.
As you read the words aloud, a chill wind causes every fiber of your being to shudder. But you're running low on magic items and other provisions. Steeling your nerves, you shake off the eerie feeling and step inside.
Once you step over the threshold, you find yourself surrounded by vials of different multi-colored liquids, piled haphazardly on the shelves. It smells faintly of burnt hair, chemicals, and honey. Signs plastered all around promise amazing effects (breathe fire! Eternal life! Expand your fortunes!) and the prices seem quite low.
Taking it all in, you think to yourself, “okay, maybe I can stock up on some things while I'm here.” As you get to the center of the shop, you notice a wise-looking, friendly-faced wizard standing behind a table full of his wares. His gray beard is impressive, his cheeks and nose a bit red. His eyes light up when you approach.
“Welcome, esteemed patrons, to Rory the Red’s Mystic Brewery, where you’ll find the best potions this side of Varkuun! How may I, the great and glorious Rory the Red, assist you on your adventure today?” He stands behind a large wooden table covered with potions of varying colors.
You stare at him, somewhat in disbelief, as you notice his robe is a bright purple. He wears a blue hat dotted with stars. His bushy beard frames a mischievous face with piercing green eyes that seem to stare straight into your soul. He smiles brightly and says, “Would you like a potion, perhaps, hmmm?” he gestures to the table, inviting you to take a closer look.
It takes a moment for you to catch your bearings. This place is weird. Nothing is as it seems. You open your mouth to ask about the potions, but instead you say, somewhat in disbelief, “But your robes are purple.”
He merely shrugs. “Eh,” he replies casually. “It's just a figure of speech. So what do you want?”
“I'll take some potions, I guess.” You walk closer to the table. He gestures to them again.
“These are the most potent and magical potions in all the land. You may only purchase one. Choose wisely. Green, red, blue, yellow, or the orange mystical brew? Which one will you choose? Hmmmmm???
Drink the Green Potion
Drink the Red Potion
Drink the Blue Potion
Drink the Yellow Potion
Drink the Orange Potion
