Sarlyn, the cold of the spear pierces your chest, and darkness engulfs you. For a moment, you experience nothing, but soon, you begin to hear the all-too-familiar sound of a flowing river. You know this sound. You were raised being taught that the sounds of the Tartyx River were something to always listen to.
You open your eyes, and find yourself on the ground. The air around you is cold and damp, as it always is. A figure in a robe stands above you, looking down at you, its face obscured by darkness of its hood. It turns to another figure, identical to it, standing in a small rowboat on the waters of the Tartyx River. A feeling of dread fills you. Not yet. Not at the very beginning of your journey. You could do so much more. You have so much to give.
Both figures look at you and seem to feel your disappointment. They both consider you for a moment.
"No child. Not yet. You are more important than you know." The boat slides onto the shore, and the first figure steps onto the boat.
"Be ever watchful, Sarlyn Lethe. This is but the first step on your path."
Suddenly, a sharp pain fills your chest, and you are lying on your back. You reach up and clutch your holy symbol, which seems damp and cold. You press your hand to your chest, feeling cold murky water flowing out of the wound. You've regained 1 hit point, miraculously.
You look up and see a centaur, a satyr, a minotaur, and a leonin surrounding you.
