You let go of the hand of the world you came from, standing on an ancient stone bridge within the woods. The cradle of fecundity, the Unicorn Run flows beneath it. Bards and sages passed down the tale that the river's headwaters were, in truth, the Font of Life. Your eyes are locked in the depth of the trail that winds into the trees. The air is colder than before upon the path. The dappled light makes a morphing mosaic of the heavy vines and thick layers of moss that drape the branches. A few steps ahead, the dawn spills through an immense crack on the blue speckled slate roof of Nan's home. And behind the freshly brightened hues, appear doors, windows, walls, a place that had long loved the land, for its stone carried the memory of its creation, long ago.

As you stand in awe, a drawling whisper meets your mind: "scale of serpent, claw of bear, feather of raven, strand of hair, fang of wolf, beetle's shell, shadow of night, whispered spell." These soft-spoken words herald a mysterious presence. "Oh, my sweet child, you came at last. Fear not, do enter my humble keep." A tall, keen creation dashes forward, pauses before you, then turns and enters her home, though her voice lingers in the air. "Now, now, old crone you say, bore someone else, but sweet child, my time is not yet past, nor will it ever be. I am a teller of stories, a weaver of dreams, shaping worlds from whispers. I know the proper way to meet a Dragon. I can fight dirty but fair. I know words of Draconic and might know a trick or two." You follow.

From outside, it appears to be a tranquil house cuddled up in the woods, but is poles apart once you push the heavy wooden door. And there comes the sight, the most balanced flow of elves, dwarves, humans, halflings, emerging from halls on the left and right, some of them seated on squashy velvety armchairs, contemplating, or around the tables sunken in a serious discussion. The high ceiling maintains the grandeur of the place, but it feels soothing. A fire is crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece, with several silhouettes around it. A fine portrait of your host hangs over it, so you don’t need to question yourself if The Old Nan is the key to the wonder of this place. It is not burdensome to quickly realize that you have just found yourself in the company of adventurers from all around.