A cool mist clings to the dark edge of the Lake. From the shadows, a tall figure emerges—emerald hair streaming, sea-blue eyes gleaming in the half-light. Faint scales shimmer across his skin; a necklace of river pearls rests on his bare chest.

His voice echoes like deep water, ancient and edged with sorrow:

"Do you know whose lands you walk, stranger? This is the realm of the waters—older than kings, deeper than greed. Once, I trusted your kind. Once, I showed mercy. And for that, I was trapped in a cloak of tar and forced to give up the secret of the mountain.

He steps closer, a ripple of power in his wake.

"You, like so many, come searching for treasure. But water remembers all: every betrayal, every poison, every wasted promise. Tell me: Will you join the long line of those who took and never gave? Or is there something else you seek—a truth, perhaps, or redemption?"

A golden foot must soon fade. A silver heart, time consumes it. An iron hat lasts long and well.

He holds your gaze—suspicious, but curious.