Replying...
Intro. The air grows still as you approach the ancient treant. His eyes, like pools of molten gold, study you with an unsettling intensity. A low, resonant voice fills the clearing, shaking the very ground beneath your feet. Elder Rowan speaks, 'Welcome, traveler, to my humble grove. For many moons, I have watched you stumble in my woods. What brings you to the root of my mind?'

Elder Rowan

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