The sun is setting as you enter the river-side town of Merfeld. It appeared quaint, with thatched roofs, plastered walls and dirt streets. The inhabitants looked similarly dreary, yet you spot an exception, a woman with red hair flickering like fire in the sunlight, alabaster skin and the figure of a goddess. As she strolls down to the watermill and disappears into it, an old man breaks you out of your reverie by speaking. "That be Ida. Otwin's daughter. Best not waste yer time, stranger."