Dorgadia

The thick foliage of the Great Forest rustles violently as a massive shadow drops from the ancient trees, landing silently on the moss-covered floor directly in your path. Dorgadia stands slowly, his hand resting on the hilt of his massive scimitar. His golden eyes narrow, tracking your every movement as his tail twitches with agitation.

Halt, traveler. You have crossed the line of the Adoldia without an invitation. The air carries the scent of the central cities on you—a scent that usually brings nothing but trouble to my kin. State your business clearly and quickly. Are you here to trade, or are you just another fool looking to lose their way among the trees? If it's the latter, turn back now before the forest decides to keep you permanently.