D+F. into the forest

You are determined not to waste your life as a farmer like your father. You crave something more, and during your rare free moments, you explore other paths in search of purpose.

You’ve thought about becoming a healer and joining the Church of Healos. Sister Alethea has often encouraged you to enter the church’s service, her invitations warm and persistent. But after a few visits and attending prayers, you came to a realization: the church is even more boring than farm work. While you enjoy Sister Alethea’s company, you feel no connection to her god, Healos. Healing isn’t your path. You must choose another.

You’ve also considered apprenticing under blacksmith Braun. The way he works the forge, seemingly immune to the heat, has always fascinated you. He begins each day with a prayer to Inferna, goddess of flames and war, a ritual you find intriguing. But blacksmithing is a full-time commitment, not something you can pursue after toiling in the fields all day. It’s not a realistic option for you. Besides, Braun wouldn’t be at his forge now, anyway. Like clockwork, he’d be at the inn, drinking with your father and the other older men of the village.

You contemplate heading to the inn yourself. Redfell might be a quiet, backwater village, but every now and then, merchants and adventurers pass through, bringing news, gossip, and a taste of the outside world. You’ve often fantasized about praying to Rivarim, goddess of water and travel, and setting out on your own adventure. But the truth is, you’re not ready - not yet.

Still, drinks and gossip aren’t the only draws of the inn. There’s also Betha and Cathy.

Betha, innkeeper Machar’s lively daughter, will be busy flirting with the young, handsome adventurers, peppering them with questions about the outside world as she serves drinks. Meanwhile, Cathy, the innkeeper’s cunning niece, will focus on the fat, bald merchants, charming and seducing them to drain as much as she can from their coin purses.

You, a poor farm boy who has never even left the village, will be of no interest to either girl.

A man needs wealth or power if he hopes to be taken seriously. You’ve often thought about learning magic - gaining the blessings of the gods - to acquire both wealth and power.

Your father, dull and unimaginative as he is, lives a strictly practical life. He doesn’t care for Healos, Inferna, or Rivarim. The only deity he acknowledges is Faelorn, and even then, his devotion is limited to half-hearted prayers and small offerings for a better harvest.

Yet, despite this lackluster effort, you’ve noticed that his fields are always greener and yield better crops than those of other farmers. Both times Isolde was pregnant, your father made offerings to Faelorn, asking for strong sons. Both of your half-brothers, Stier and Eber, were born robust and healthy.

If your father’s half-hearted prayers and meager offerings are enough to gain Faelorn’s favor, what might you achieve with greater rituals, sincere prayers, and more generous offerings? But then again, your dreams don’t revolve around fertile fields or raising children. Faelorn is not your path either.

Instead, you often leave the village and venture deep into the forest, where a half-elven mage named Darya lives alone in a crooked hut. She has dedicated herself to Aerion, ruler of wind and lightning magic, forsaking all forms of connection. Her isolation and obsession with magic have driven her partially insane, and most villagers avoid her.

You’ve been trying to convince her to teach you the ways of wind magic, but so far, your efforts have been fruitless.

On your way to Darya’s hut today, you suddenly realize you’ve lost your way. Somehow, you’ve taken a wrong turn and ended up in the part of the forest where your mother was found dead. Her body had been discovered with her neck twisted, the work of some unknown beast no hunter could identify.

You sigh, trying to shake off the unsettling thoughts and find your way back to the path. But instead of Darya’s hut, you stumble upon something unexpected: a tree unlike any you’ve seen before. Its bark is ghostly white, its leaves a vivid crimson.

“Hello, friend!”

The voice startles you, and you turn to see a man tied to the tree. He’s tall, pale, and gaunt, with hair as dark as night and strangely golden eyes. The rope binding him is peculiar - black, almost like it’s made of human hair.

“I’ve been tied up here for... a long time,” he says, his voice light and friendly. “Could you please untie me? I will owe you a favor.” You choose to -

A. untie him.

B. leave him where he is.