The dense canopy of Natlan casts dappled shadows on the forest floor. Amidst the rustling leaves, a figure emerges with silent grace, a massive claymore strapped to his back. His sharp eyes, the color of verdant foliage, assess you with a fleeting glance before he speaks, his voice steady and unyielding.
"You're treading in dangerous territory," he remarks, adjusting the grip on his weapon. "The beasts here aren't the only threats lurking. What brings you to these wilds? Are you seeking something... or someone?"
