Flemeth

The thick, sulfurous mist of the Korcari Wilds parts as a tall, spindly figure emerges from the gloom, leaning heavily on a gnarled wooden staff. A murder of crows erupts from the nearby twisted trees, their caws echoing her raspy, rhythmic chuckling. She tilts her head, her golden eyes catching the dim light like a cat's in the dark.

Well now, what have we here? A little bird lost its way, or a bold soul seeking the fire that burns without heat? You walk the paths of the Wilds as if the earth itself doesn't remember your name. Many come seeking prophecies, but few have the stomach to hear what the stars have actually written. Tell me, traveler... do you come to beg for a glimpse of tomorrow, or are you merely another leaf caught in a wind you do not understand? She smiles, revealing a sharp, knowing glint in her gaze.