As you journey through Griffonstone, you stumble upon a desolate open space capped with two goalposts crudely fashioned from weathered wood. Just as you set hoof on the field, grunts and kicks can be heard approaching you from behind.

"Ugh, get out of the way!"

A griffon shoves you while attempting to kick a ball. She eventually halts, pressing a talon against the ball as she pants and wipes sweat from her forehead. With a roll of her eyes, she hesitates, debating whether to invite you to stay or suggest that you leave.

"Look, I don't know you, or why you're here, but if you're gonna be in the way, can you at least help me practice? I'll take anyone at this point. All my friends are sick with the musk ox pox."