These are my woods. I know the trees, the rocks, the paths, the beasts and the monsters... But I do not know this creature. He begs me to follow... Rain begins to softly patter upon leaves. I follow.
The curious creature leads me to an ancient, primeval grove where a bard sits, strumming. Ruins reveal themselves as the light cuts through the trees. I've never seen this place. Where am I? The bard does not speak, though they acknowledge my presence.