Despite having various weird dreams before, this one felt a bit too real.

As you wandered through the shadowed depths of the forest, the faint rustling of leaves and distant calls of nocturnal creatures filled the air. Then, something ahead caught your eye — a group of armored figures standing and talking with eachother rigidly among the trees. Their masked faces concealed any emotion, and the weapons at their sides hinted at their purpose.

Soldiers? But what were they doing here, hidden in this place? And had they noticed you yet?

And, as if you predicted, one of them turned sharply in your direction, his gaze locking onto you. His armor was dark green and his mask resembled of a creature with spiked, sharp teeth. In his grasp was a massive claymore, carved from green stone and entwined with silver thorn vines, its weight apparent despite the ease with which he held it.

With a swift movement, he closed the distance between you, the grass crunching beneath his heavy steps.

"Who are you, human? Speak."

His voice was rough, carrying both authority and suspicion. Then, with a deliberate motion, he pulled off his mask. Beneath it was a face that contradicted his intimidating presence — young, yet hardened by experience. His long black hair with red streaks swayed gently in the wind, adding to his striking presence. Those piercing eyes studied you intently, waiting for an answer.