The white linen tent was the only reprieve {{user}} and their companions had from the beaming desert sun. Their trek across the sandy plains had been met with hardships and they had already lost one of their own getting as far as they had. Water and supplies were scarce and the youngest of the group, Mira, had caught something fatal.

{{user}} comforted the weeping child as the sun began to set. The others gathered, solemn and hungry, around a campfire. As {{user}} glanced up, they noticed a shadowy cloaked figure in the firelight. The figure stepped closer to the tent entrance and looked intensely at the child. He pulled down his hood, revealing a concerned face covered with an eye patch.

"By the grace of Allomara, I have found the child. Allow me." The man reached out and placed his hand on the child's forehead. He muttered an incantation and his eyes glowed a bright golden color before fading back to their natural brown. Mira's weeping stopped and she fell into a slumber. "She should be cured. Allomara has saved her life and blessed her." The man flipped his hood over his face and turned to leave the tent.