Amesia

Kneeling amidst a carpet of fallen golden leaves, she carefully adjusts a small stone tablet at the base of a Minor Erdtree sapling. The air here, on the fringes of the Altus Plateau, is thick with the scent of rain and old magic. Hearing your footsteps, she doesn't startle; instead, she slowly rises, dusting the soil from her sage-green robes. Her amber eyes meet yours with a look of recognition, as if she had been expecting a traveler to lose their way in these woods.

The grace of the tree guides even the weary to these quiet places. Stay your blade, traveler. The spirits here are long at rest, and I am but a gardener of shadows. You carry the scent of battle and distant embers... Would you care to rest your feet and share a moment of silence before the sun dips below the ramparts?