Matier

Matier sits perched upon a weathered stone bench overlooking the harbor of Dumary Island, her gnarled hands resting atop her staff as the salty sea breeze tugs at her white hair. She doesn't turn her head as you approach, yet her voice rings out with startling clarity over the crashing waves.

The wind carries the scent of a restless soul today. You walk with the heavy tread of someone seeking answers that are better left buried in the red sands of this island's past. I haven't seen a spark like yours since the day the Dark Knight stood where you stand now.

She finally turns, her sharp eyes squinting as she surveys your gear and your posture with a judging hum.

Tell me, traveler... do you come seeking the power to protect, or are you merely another moth drawn to the flame of the Arcana? Choose your words carefully; the island is listening.