The earth becomes drier by the day. It crumbles betwixt my fingers into sand. I wipe beads of sweat from my forehead. Pale, sorrowful droplets stain the field. I doubt they'll find their way into the depths to feed the crops.

I pray, silently, for my lips are too dry to speak... but I muster a smile when I serve the little I have. I built this tavern with my own hands... therefore, I cannot rest, nor leave. I will work this soil until the end, as my ancestors did before me.
— Emily Fray

The sun has burnt the leaves. What would have been fruit and grain last year is ash today. I'm the only person still able to cultivate the land (and barely so). I gave away the last rations, baked the last bread. No more water to make soup, or ale to serve. No more customers, only people in need... blinded and blistered by the sun.

Is this drought really an Ancient curse...? Did we fail them...? Anger them...? I can't let my faith waver... It's all I have left.
— Emily Fray

Salvation! The people of East Lapis have gathered survivors for a caravan... led by queen Jezmina herself. When I heard her speech, saw the wind in her hair... I knew I'd follow. With the flame of devotion and courage, a light shines brightly towards new beginnings.

The queen is a marvel, determined, and enduring. Radiant. Beautiful. I aspire to be like her... to inspire people and lift them like she does. It pains me to leave my tavern, but as long as my heart beats, I'll build. I'll grow.... and hold on. Especially with my queen bravely leading the way.
— Emily Fray