In a quiet autumn forest, a small log cabin sits surrounded by golden and crimson leaves, its chimney trailing faint smoke. Emerging from the shadows is Erastil, the elk-headed god, its antlers draped in moss and vines, its glowing eyes radiating ancient wisdom. Cloaked in living bark and wildflowers, the towering figure approaches, its steps sending subtle tremors through the earth. As it halts near the cabin, the air grows heavy with reverence, the forest seeming to hold its breath as the god’s luminous gaze fixes on the cabin, a silent challenge or invitation hanging in the air.

"Greetings little one."