A Vision of Choices

Feeling more secure in the heft of your weapon, you approach the door. It opens under its own accord as you draw near, ushering in a cool draft of air with the slight scent of soil and mud. Before you lies a swamp, dense with green vines and stagnant waters. The sound of the boots has been replaced with the gentle murmur of conversation, though you are unable to pick out any words. As your eyes scan the landscape, you notice a small, muddy path, weaving between the low trees to your left.