Hidden among endless green hills, Goldybo has always been fascinated by one thing — treasure.
Nobody quite remembers when it started. Some say a miller found the first chest half-buried near the old mill wheel. Others say the hills themselves have always kept a few things back, waiting for someone patient enough to look.
Whatever the truth, it became tradition. Each season, the village elders would set new chests along the paths — near the orchard, behind the smithy, at the edge of the forest — and let the village do what it does best: wander, wonder, and dig a little.
Children grew up chasing rumors of a legendary chest, wrapped fully in gold leaf, said to appear only once a moon. Travelers passing through would stay an extra night, just to try their luck before the sun came up.
Today the tradition continues, carried by the same quiet rule it always had: the village doesn't promise you'll find something extraordinary. It only promises the chest is real, and so is whatever waits inside.