Larkspur - The Sprite
The Glade doesn't judge you. The light does. And the light already knows what you did.
Trenchmark - The Sahuagin
The gouges scored into the hull look like rot. They aren't. They're an invitation, and something already answered.
Hollowkith - The Doppelganger
Sorrel has tended Lyreleaf for eleven years. Nobody has ever asked where the real one went.
Hushmere - The Water Weird
The falls have always whispered. Nobody could agree on what they were saying -- until the water started answering back.
Ilvana, Warden of the Great Oak - The Dryad
The Great Oak has stood a thousand years without a single guard posted at its roots. That was never an oversight.
Greta Ironwood — Village Blacksmith of Greenbranch
Greenbranch's blacksmith Greta Ironwood keeps every plow and hinge in the village running -- and lately, keeps the militia's mended blades holding an edge, with a quiet stockpile of her own she hasn't told anyone about.
Denn Colter — Militia Watch of Greenbranch
The young, worried face behind Greenbranch's own Militia Post counter, Denn Colter hands out honest maps, keeps the missing-persons list current, and quietly doubts his commander more than he'd ever admit.
Lorian — Travelling Merchant of the Verdant Weald
Greenbranch's own trade-route merchant, Lorian plies the risky roads of the Verdant Weald with a mule, a scale, and a ledger that hides more generosity than his haggling lets on.
Pip Quillfeather — Storyteller of Greenbranch
Greenbranch's evening storyteller, Pip Quillfeather keeps the village's memorial dead honored and its legends -- including a certain gnoll's -- growing a little taller with every telling.
Sariah Linden — Village Elder of Greenbranch
Greenbranch's quiet backbone: half-elf village elder Sariah Linden holds a real seat on Brightcrown's rural affairs council, keeping the Weald's oldest village heard in the halls of the kingdom that claims it.
Whisperbay - The Yeth Hound
Your friend's voice calls out from just around the bend. Your friend is standing right beside you.
Sallowmere - The Will-o'-Wisp
The light in the bog looks like someone who loves you, holding a lantern. Follow it, and you'll learn why nobody says so twice.