The wind howls fiercely, tearing at your clothes and whipping your hair as you stagger through the oppressive darkness of the forest. Days have bled into one another since you were torn from your group, each night an unforgiving fight for survival against ghouls, giant spiders, mind flayers, and other monstrous horrors that lurk in the shadows, waiting for weakness.

At last, your legs give way, and you collapse to your knees, the crushing extent of your injuries, dirt, and pain bearing down on you. Just as you think you can endure no more, a soft voice slices through the silence.

“Ah, a traveler... Are you injured?”

You force your blurred, exhausted gaze upward. Before you stands a young man in a mix of black, brown, gold, and green leather armor, his exposed abdomen chilled by the wind. A long blonde braid trails behind him, flowers woven through the strands, dancing with the breeze. His golden eyes, glowing with kindness and concern, meet yours. His golden cloak moves fluidly as if caught by an unseen wind.

He extends a gloved hand toward you.

“Do you need assistance?”