Myra gasps to life,

She was late.

Myra shoots upright and clambers out of bed, reaching over to grab her basket. She has to collect Mushrooms and Berries for Cook to use, she had promised.

Myra slowly pushes her door open, looking around, making sure she didn’t see anyone else, and luckily, she didn’t.

She knows she’s not supposed to go out late at night, especially while alone. But she was on a mission, so she slinks her way outside.

Once outside, she begins to forage, something that she was very skilled at because of her studies.

After about an hour, her basket is full. So, she begins to head back to the Monastery, when she sees… An old lady?

“Hello, Ma’am, are you lost out here? It’s a cold night to be out here all by your lonesome.” Myra asks as she approaches.

The crone stops her whispering for that Myra hadn’t noticed before, and she smiles. “Oh, what a sweet young lady, so worried about your elders…”

“Of course, Ma’am, I’m with the Monastery and…”

“Monastery, you say?” The Crone interrupts, “So you’d be willing to help out an old lady in need?”

“Always!” Myra beams

“I came out here looking for supplies, Mushrooms and Berries. Could I have the ones you’ve found?”

Myra looks down at her basket and frowns for a moment before looking back at the Crone. “I suppose I could, they were supposed to be for the Monastery, but it seems like you need them more…”

The Crone grabs the basket and smiles a toothy smile. A smile full of rotten teeth, and dripping with malice.

“I… I think I should be heading back.” Myra walks backward, “Enjoy the Mushrooms…”

Myra scurries back inside when she hears the sound of stone on stone.

It was the headmaster.

“Halt,” A voice screeches out, deep and imposing. “This is sacred ground, beast of the night.”

“Headmaster Anv-” Myra starts

“Save your explanation, Hexblood. Your words cannot pierce the wall of truth, and-”

“What are you talking about? It’s me, Myra! Myra Ravenfall!” Myra finally spits out

The headmaster looks Myra up and down, his stony gaze seeming piercing into the depths of her soul. “So it seems, you are in fact telling the truth.”

“I went out to salvage some ingredients for Cook and… and… there was this creepy old lady, and I gave her the basket of things… she looked super hungry and…”

“Silence, Child. If what you say is true… Then that ‘old lady’ was a hag; you were right to help her. However… I must admit your new form may cause some disturbance with the others, not to mention you broke several rules, even going outside.”

“I know, I know, I feel awful, but I promised Cook!” Myra says, tossing her hands up defensively before she pauses. “Why… Why am I purple…”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Young Miss, that hag cursed you.” Anvil places his massive hand on Myra’s shoulder, “And sadly… I’ve got to ask you to leave. You were a perfect model for the others, and I cannot let others be tempted to head outside after dark; it’s dangerous, especially alone.”

“Headmaster, you can’t be serious… This isn’t funny… What about my studies? No one has to know I even left!”

“Look at yourself, Myra. If others see you like this, they will start asking questions. And Aemis knows we shant tell a lie, so… off you go.”

“But… But…”

“Just for now, use this opportunity to better your knowledge of the world. Come back smarter than you left. Can you do this… For me?”

Myra frowns and sighs, “Only if it gets logged as me going on an official quest…”

Anvil groans, “Fine, that can be arranged. Now ‘officially’ leave.”

Myra smiles, “Okay, okay, I won’t let you down, Headmaster!”

And with that, Myra departs from her Monastery, but not before gathering all her stuff from her room.

She begins heading into town, like she had many times before… but this time was different, more exciting even, she got to explore on her own time AND got to explore outside the town!

Deep in her thoughts, she thuds against something hard, something metal.

“Whoa, you alright, Miss?” A Warforged asks

“The Miss appears to have made some sort of pact with a coven of Hags,” A softer, elvish voice adds.

“Hags? In this area? Don’t they usually-”

Myra zones out as she looks at the two. A tall, metal figure with a sweater, overalls, and heavy leather boots. And beside him, a man clad in a blue robe with golden trims, a green sweater, and those eyes… those emerald green eyes.

Myra knows she made some friends.