This led to a temporary increase in takings, as folk would pay them to go away. However, one dark and stormy night, a stranger came up to them all, and a strange looking stranger he was, too. Dark and scrawny and shorter than was average for that neck of the woods, with an odd shape to his head, and an unusual accent.
"Would you play at my house?" he asked. "There's a meal in it, and this," and he held up a small buckskin bag, which jingled a good deal. The players looked at each other, and considered, and were just about to nod, when he added, "There is one condition, though. You'll have to be blindfolded on your way up the ridge."