Aima's Rest
He wakes up the next morning to the sounds of birds chirping. And butterflies flapping around a tavern. There is a large tree growing in the centre and what looks to be a large throne formed of roots at its base. This three storey building winds upwards to see the tree growing here. You awake to an old voice. “Little one, your sickness grows worse. Please tell me you have taken the vial given by Opisto.” Standing tall behind the normal sized counters was Aima Honeyoak. She pours you a glass of a dark copper liquid, she slides it down the live edge wooden bartop. Wavering Usquebaugh, which is old Sylvan for Wavering Water of Life, simplified colloquially to Wavering Whiskey in the common tongue. “I add it to my tea every morning. It was distilled in only moonlight and aged for thirty tree rings.” Aima sits down on the rooted throne at the base of the tavern. This is Aima’s Rest, a home for the grass folk, the worshippers of Kishar and the botanists. “The vial will take a few days to activate. I hope we do not lose you before the medicine takes effect.”
A cozy retreat within The Grove, Aima's Rest is a tranquil haven where visitors can rejuvenate amidst nature's embrace. The air carries the soothing scent of blooming flowers and earth, contributing to an atmosphere of serene relaxation. The sounds of gentle breezes and distant bird songs create an ambiance that beckons to those seeking solace and respite.
A cozy retreat within The Grove, Aima's Rest is a tranquil haven where visitors can rejuvenate amidst nature's embrace. The air carries the soothing scent of blooming flowers and earth, contributing to an atmosphere of serene relaxation. The sounds of gentle breezes and distant bird songs create an ambiance that beckons to those seeking solace and respite.