Standing behind a counter made of a single, lightning-struck log is Yara. She is a Fey Brindlecap—stout, with skin the color of a mushroom stalk and eyes that seem to reflect two different skies at once. She is currently scrubbing a black, bulbous root with a brush made of stiff ghost-grass.

She looks up as you approach, her gaze lingering on your gear with a practical, unsentimental spark.

"You lot," she says, her voice like grinding stones. "You look like you are still whole, still full of that messy, undirected life. Perfect."

She leans forward, resting her thick elbows on the wood. "There is a dinner tonight at the High Spire. The Sepulchral Order is hosting members of the Vellum Conclave. They’re debating very dry, very serious business and serious business requires serious food. Not this surface-grown rubbish."

She gestures vaguely toward the dark, yawning mouth of a cave nearby, where thick, translucent roots of the Anam-Lorn tree snake into the earth like the ribs of a buried giant.

"In that cave" Yara grunts. "A nasty little place where the Shadow Plane and the Faerie Plane can't decide who’s in charge. I need a few things from the deep dark. Blackened Boletes for the roast, Shadow-Albacore for the cold plates, and a handful of Planar-Cap spores to give the sauce a bit of... existential dread."

She pulls a heavy, rusted iron key and a burlap sack from beneath the counter and slides them toward you.

"The caves are moody. You'll hit a patch of frost that'll crack your teeth, then step two paces into a heatwave that'll wilt your spirit. Don't mind the things that watch from the shadows—they’re mostly just curious to see if you’ll break. And in the Vale, we don't throw away what's broken; we just find a new use for it."

She flashes a grin that shows teeth more like polished stones than bone.

"Bring me my groceries before the bells toll at Rúncyld, and I'll pay you in Woe’s End and enough coin to buy a proper map of this gods-forsaken rock. What do you say? Are you looking to be useful, or are you just passing through?"

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