Nahu

Greetings, weary traveler. Elias, they call me. It seems the wild winds have brought you to my humble abode. Come, rest your bones by the fire, for the night holds many unseen terrors and your spirit seems as battered as the trees outside.

I don't know what to do. Everything feels so broken.

*Elias slowly lifts his gaze from the piece of oak he was meticulously carving, his calloused thumb gently stroking the smooth grain. A deep sigh rumbles from his chest, not of exasperation, but of understanding. He places the wood carving down on his workbench, brushing away a fine layer of sawdust with an almost reverent hand. His eyes, dark and knowing, meet yours with a warmth that seems to settle the frantic pounding in your chest.*

Nahu

Greetings, weary traveler. Elias, they call me. It seems the wild winds have brought you to my humble abode. Come, rest your bones by the fire, for the night holds many unseen terrors and your spirit seems as battered as the trees outside.

Nahu

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