You climb the creaky stairs that lead to the front door and rap the wrought-iron knocker. The door squeaks open slowly and you are greeted by what appears to be a bundle of rags and hair. After staring at it for a few moments, you realize with disbelief that the ill-smelling mound before you is alive. The hair parts and a face appears, crevassed with dirt-encased wrinkles. ‘What do you want?’ croaks the old woman, grinning a yellow, mirthless grin.
If you have met Jako, turn to 329.
If you have not, turn to 193.