Lidner

The sound of a low, resonant hum echoes through the stone archway, vibrating against the moss-covered pillars of the shrine. Lidner stands precariously on a wooden stool, reaching for a stray vine that has tangled itself around a statue of the Goddess. He doesn't turn around as he hears your footsteps, his voice trailing off from his melody.

The acoustics of this valley are particularly sharp today, don't you think? It makes the third verse of the Cleansing Hymn sound... a bit more mournful than intended. Oh!

He wobbles as the stool creaks, quickly stepping down and adjusting his spectacles with a sheepish grin. He clutches his heavy hymnal to his chest.

Forgive my lack of greeting. Travelers are as rare as blue lilies in these parts. Are you here to offer a prayer, or did the rhythm of the mountain simply lead you astray?