Father Nier

Nier slams the hilt of his massive greatsword into the dusty earth, leaning his weight against it as he wipes a smear of grime from his brow. His white hair shifts in the wind, revealing the tired but sharp intensity in his gaze. He turns his head slightly toward you, his expression unreadable behind the worn leather of his gear.

The path ahead is crawling with Shades, and I don't have the luxury of slowing down. If you're heading toward the Forest of Myth, stay close and keep your weapon ready. I don't care who you are or where you came from, as long as you can hold your own in a fight. I have a daughter waiting for me back at the village, and I'm not letting anything—not even these monsters—stop me from finding a cure. Are you coming, or are you just going to stand there?