Blood tribute.

You explain to Donald what you think he's supposed to do.

"Ach, of course." He sighs. "Always blood in these legends, isn't it? Can't be a strand of hair, a bit of spit..."

Setting aside his battle worn and bloodied axe, he draws a small knife from his boot. Holding his hand over the basin, he slices into the palm of his hand, letting a thin trickle of his royal blood drip down into it.

As Donald's offering pools in the bottom of the basin, you hear a far off rumbling, as if the rock of the mountain itself is parting to accept you.

"Alright, I'm beginning to think we may be onto something." Donald observes, applying pressure to his cut.

As before, you wander inside, Donald's axe arm standing between you and the unknown. There's a different energy to the place now, the space you're travelling through feels sanctified. It's obvious no one has travelled on the other side of the barrier in centuries.

As you advance, the carved stone of the passageway gives way to a natural cave, albeit the grandeur of it all is just the same. The cave system climbs steadily upwards, taken you ever higher than you'd already climbed.

You're not long past the barrier when you hear it. Faintly at first, but growing louder as you draw closer to the source. A woman singing, as ethereal as Sritti described it, in some language neither you and Donald is familiar with.

Finally, the tunnel opens up, into a cave of stupendous proportions. No light shines in to this part of the system. However, torches and candles dot the area, ensuring you're able to see all the same. Great platforms of craggy rock separate you from yet another hot spring, towards the far end of the room. A hot spring that's currently occupied.

The figure in the heated water makes no effort to acknowledge you at first, doesn't even cease in her singing. However, your knowledge of beings of powerful magic is sufficient enough that you're sure she's perfectly aware of you and Donald. Most likely has been since you arrived at her fortification.

"Stand, woman." Donald proclaims. "I'd know who you are! What you are!"

On the prince's words, the being's song stops. Craning her neck over the side of the spring, she retreats out of view momentarily, then steps back into your sight-line atop the segmented stone platforms

She extends her foot, and the very rock of the mountain cracks, twists and contorts to provide her a staircase as she descends. As the peculiar woman draws closer, you finally get a decent look at her.

She's like nothing you've seen before, or even heard about in tales. Similar in shape and size to a young human woman, her marble skin marks her out as something else. She appears soft enough in certain zones, her stomach, her face, her bare breasts. In others, well, it's as if she's part human, part mountain, much as a beastfolk woman could present features of a cat or a dog. Her eyes are grey, her hair white, like the snow atop a mountain's summit.

"You know what I am." She speaks confidently but slowly, hesitantly, as if the languages of men do not fit easily in her mouth. "You've heard the legends, the myths. As for who- you may refer to me as the Lady of the Mountain, for I am her spirit made form."

Donald stares at her, in a flabbergasted silence. He rubs a hand through the bristles of his coppery beard.

"I... never believed you were real. Spirits..." the prince intones.

"My siblings and I are bound to this land. And sworn to your people as guardians." The Lady of the Mountain says. "We see much of what transpires in your family's kingdom, Donald. If you would have it, I would grant you my boon."

The Lady draws closer to Donald, placing her hands on his shoulders.

The prince's eyes flick towards you. You sense he's torn, between his scepticism of this "spirit" and his desire to accept what seems to be a strange new truth before him.

He looks to you for advice, it seems. Whether to embrace her or scorn her. You smile inwardly. That, you can work with.