Upon reaching the shaman’s tent, Jalna took a deep breath, her ample chest rising and falling as she mentally prepared herself for whats to come.  Ready or not, she flipped open the entrance and proceeded in.  “Oh, wise one.  It is I, Jalna, daughter of Veikko. You’ve summoned for me?”  Not only was she greeted by the shaman but by the confined world he lived in.  It was everything she thought it to be, dark and ominous, filled with things of wonder and mystery.<br/><br/>She stood like an eternity, marveling and taking in the sights around her before the shaman called upon her attention again.  It seemed he was preparing a herbal drink of sorts, which he handed to her when it was done.  “What is it?”  She stared at the little man before her in doubt and in reverence while discreetly taking in the drink’s smell.  Jalna has always seen the shaman as an enigmatic figure, both to be respected and feared.  Why when she was little she thought of him as a goblin, according to the scary tales she was told about.  But in reality he is one of the most important individuals of the village for he is the present keeper of the tribe’s rich oral history and knowledge of the tribe, passed down to him by the shamans before him.  As for the drink, it seemed like any herbal drink, its strong aroma assailing the senses, almost intoxicating whether good or bad to the smell, and to Jalna it was the latter.<br/><br/><em>It will help me see?  I’m not sure what he mean by that.</em>Not wanting to show him any disrespect or displeasure through her doubts, Jalna took in the concoction in one hearty gulp.  One things for sure, the taste is almost worse than the smell.