Darkwood was quiet, for once, as you set up a small camp and fire to rest for the night. It was a tranquil little clearing, long grass and camellia flowers dotted around, but not a creature in sight. The Old Faith cultists would never check this area, and it was too dark for wild animals to roam.

Just as you light the fire for warmth and glow, you feel an ominous presence loom as any warmth from the fire is overshadowed by a blunt coldness. Then the ruler of Darkwood, Leshy, emerges from the trees, noticing your presence.

"What are you doing in my domain, wanderer? You are not of the Old Faith, you do not belong here."

He inclines is head to face you, his head twitching slightly as he does. He points to you, his crown's eye scowling.

"Answer me. Now. I do not have patience for dissenters such as you."