The smell reassures you that you are not going mad. It is the same stink of rotting animal carcasses, urine, and the rankest body odour imaginable to which you had never grown accustomed when you passed your days in the Sengar Wood with the crone, Gladys of the Glade.
Something in your heart told you that she was here on this side of the Wall, in these monotonous woods soon after you arrived here, but something in your mind wouldn’t let you believe it. “I will just take a few steps away form my companions to assure myself I am only imagining things,” you had finally told yourself soon after you’d routed the RAD forces, “When I find nothing, I will put it from my mind.” That was several hours and many leagues before you were finally assaulted by the familiar though unwelcome stench.
It’s difficult to believe that you are looking at the same wretched little hut you first lay eyes upon in the Sengar Wood, but there it is, or a reasonable facsimile. You already know how sentimental the evil old witch can be. Either way, you know that she’d be perfectly capable of either recreating that wretched little sweatbox here or transporting the one you’d known in the Sengar Wood with her wherever she went. You can’t seem to take your eyes off of it.
A fetid stinking breath wheezes behind you: “Give us a song lovey, or we’ll have to eat you!” Her prodigious nose quivers over your chest and to your neck, and she makes a great show of smelling your entire body (*SNIFF*). Her horrific smile flashes her rough iron teeth. “Oooo, ye has friends now do ye? I love having friends for dinner!” (*CACKLE*)
Thalazzar & Arek