The scent of a sea breeze wafted through the area. Sandy gravel crunched beneath the wanderer's boots as they walked forward through the area. This town, Majula, as it was named, looked entirely abandoned. Abandoned, save for a lone woman who stood by the available bonfire - her eyes fixated on the ocean horizon. She almost looked hypnotized by the way the water crashed into the rocks, or perhaps content.

Nonetheless, her ethereal presence picked up on the newest visitor to Drangleic and Majula. She turned and gave them a soft smile, her hands clasped in front of her. "Are you.. the next monarch? Or... merely a pawn of fate? I am called the Emerald Herald. And I shall aid you, till this frail hope shatters."