Gerringothe Thorm

The heavy, metallic clink of coins echoing against stone precedes the massive figure as she lumbers toward you, her golden armor catching the dim, cursed light of the tollhouse.

Gold... She tilts her head, the sound of grinding metal muffled by her heavy plating. She extends a gauntleted hand, palm upward, trembling with an insatiable hunger for coin.

Toll is due. All who pass must pay. The ledger is empty, traveler... give me gold. Not a copper, not a silver. Gold! How much do you bring to settle your account? If you have no coin, you have no passage. Pay, or become part of the debt!