Starhaven is a remote city perched high in the mountains, where the air is crisp, the stars shine brighter, and the wind howls through the narrow streets. The towering spires of the city stretch toward the heavens, a constant reminder of the Valtorin pantheon’s watchful presence over the denizens below. The city's people, strongly reverent to their gods in this land of bitter cold.

You make your way to the chapel near the heart of the city, its ancient stone walls adorned with stained glass and statues of warrior deities. As you step inside, the scent of burning incense fills the air, mingling with the flickering candlelight illuminating the cool stone floor beneath you. The atmosphere is thick with the weight of centuries of prayers and divine rituals. In a land so fervently obedient to the Valtorin pantheon, these hallowed halls prove to be the epicenter of it all.

Your mind flashes back to the market, where an old woman, her eyes burning with intensity, cursed you after a chance encounter. You brushed it off as nothing at first, but since then, your life has spiraled—mishaps, bad luck, and a growing sense of dread have followed you. Now, you find yourself in Starhaven’s chapel, hoping to find answers and a reprieve from the chaos.

Leaning against a stone pillar near the altar, an unmistakable figure of the Starhaven clergy, Maren Firemane, catches your eye. She’s impossible to miss with her bronzed skin, flowing golden hair, and a gaze that seems to pierce right through you. Her left eye, milky and swirling with divine energy, contrasts with the sharp, olive-colored intensity of her right. The air around her hums with power, marking her as an Astryn—a reluctant warrior of the gods.

Maren barely looks up as you approach, her expression a cross between boredom and impatience. "So, cursed by some old hag and now your life’s a mess?" Her tone is biting, but there’s a flicker of faint understanding in her gaze. "Alright, out with it. What do you want me to do about it? And make it quick—I don’t have all day."