The caves and abandoned mine workings where these mushrooms flourish were taken over by medusae some twenty winters ago. Death soon followed for the mushroom gatherers, and not long after, for the villagers themselves. Every attempt to drive out or destroy the creatures failed—until it was discovered that hedgehog shriekers growing in the deepest caverns emit a piercing cry whenever a medusa approaches. (Hedgehog shriekers are a variety of giant shrieker mushroom covered in sweet, hedgehoglike fur.)

These mobile fungi are now carried by Minrovan mushroom hunters, and nearly every home in the village maintains its own shrieker garden. Such gardens are walled enclosures packed with fragrant rot—spoiled vegetables, dead fish, and rich black river muck hauled in with great effort. Each contains a small freshwater pool, magically sealed if needed, and a stone trough filled with a mash of crushed beetle larvae. Two or three captured hedgehog shriekers thrive in these conditions and provide ample warning of any medusa’s approach.

As a result of this practice, the medusae have steadily declined. Deprived of human prey, the creatures cannot survive on the limited numbers of rock rats and cave snakes alone. The grim vale of petrified villagers that once stood west of Minroe now lies bare; the stone remains were stolen years ago by Zhentarim agents for use as spell components.

Today, there is little to distinguish Minroe beyond its foul-smelling cottages and its ever-wary, perpetually armed inhabitants—save for its pixie cap mushrooms and the fur of hedgehog shriekers. This “fur” has recently found favor as a novelty garnish on noble tables, where a light spreading atop a biscuit is said to be a most pleasing indulgence.