<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/QEfC1pc.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Gruemug Balsam<br/><strong>Race and Occupation:</strong>Satyr Soothsayer<br/><strong>Location &amp; Time:</strong>Warbling Cypress Tree- Midday<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>OPEN<br/><br/><hr/><br/>The omens foretold the coming of fresh adventurers to Amberdale. Although his vision of them was fogged and incoherent, it did seem to indicate that they were a helpful bunch. He leaned against the tall, primeval trunk of the Warbling Cypress Tree and played a tune along with the birds that nested on its endless branches. The satyr resided on a living relic. The tree came to be a millennium ago and withstood the trials of time. Drawn to its natural vigor and elemental energy, the ancestors of the wood spirit dwelled there and sang with its ever-changing residents with their wind instruments.<br/><br/>The unfeasibly grand and old tree was located in the vicinity of the Farmlands. It stood out from the sprawling flatlands like a watch tower. Gruemug Balsam's flute would sweeten the atmosphere with its discrete glissandos and melodious orchestra of chirping. Apart from providing his daily tunes, Gruemug functioned as a soothsayer for the locals. He had posted a  Notice (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=333546.msg15887610#msg15887610) on the quest board earlier that day, hoping that an adventurer would help him with a ritual. For now, all he can do was wait and play the tunes of centuries forgotten.