You find yourself walking along a wilderness path, lightly overgrown with unfamiliar bushes and small creeping vines. As you walk, you hear a soft, lively tune coming from ahead. The path soon opens out into a small clearing, covered in soft grass. The soft music is all around you.
With the suddeness of a snapping twig, however, it stops, and a high-pitched voice yells down at you. "Watch out! Don't you big people ever look where you're going? Never mind, it must be because you're such unhappy landbound creatures, but you'd think that would make you more aware of what's under your feet, not less. Who knows? Put that foot back where it was, no, not straight down, you big lump of clumsiness! Back!" As you try to recover from your confusion, a small whirring form darts down from the branches over your head and lands lightly near where you were just about to step. The small figure leans over and gently picks up a baby mouse, walks over to the edge of the clearing, and sets the youngster down in safety. "Now how many times have I told you not to forage near the path? Go on now, little one."
The small figure turns back to you, hands on hips, and a glare that would melt stone on its face. As you stare back in confusion, the glare softens, and she (yes, it is most definitely a she) begins to laugh, nearly falling over after a short time. "Now that is the funniest look I've seen in a long time! Oh, ok, I forgive you. It's not your fault you were born big and clumsy, though you might think that given the amount of magic in the world someone would have figured out how to change you so that you had wings, like a proper Windling, and then everyone would be much better off." As she goes off on another rapid-fire string of conversation, you notice that she does indeed have wings, thin, almost transparent, gossamer-like wings fanning out lightly from her back. For all her strangeness, however, you notice several things about her that are very familiar. Her ears are pointed, much like the elves in all the traditional RPG's, and she is dressed in something resembling well-made hide armor. There is a small (very small) dagger riding at her hip, and a bow slung over her shoulder. Her violet eyes are sparkling with merriment as she slowly gets control of her breathing again.
"Jaspree's blessing! I haven't laughed that hard in months. Now let's see... Who are you? Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't even introduced myself yet, and here I am going and asking personal questions. I am Named Astria, a Beastmaster and follower of Jaspree, Protector of the Wild, who has, in his infinite wisdom (cracked wisdom , if you ask me, putting me on greeting duty. Huh.) placed me here to guard this clearing and meet the strange folks who travel that path there that you just walked down. Let me guess, you just found yourself walking down that path there with no idea how you ended up in this strange place and wondering what the heck is going on. Believe me, I understand. Happened to me when I died, and His Big Centaurness walked up out of nowhere, picked me up in his hand and started going on about how heroic I had been and how he had a job for me which would perfectly fit my abilities, and how I would be happy for eternity or until the next rainstorm, whichever came first, and I'll tell you, it definitely wasn't eternity, but I've been here ever since. I suppose it hasn't been all that bad of a way to spend the time, but I'm certainly glad for the occasional vistor, when they don't go stepping on my friends, and are nice and polite if they have to apologize."
Barely stopping to breathe, Astria hops up onto your shoulder, still talking, and waves you over to a small rock that looks perfect for sitting on. "Just take a seat over there, and I'll tell you all about this place. You can call it an introduction of sorts to the world I lived in, and the one you're in now, which I suppose is close enough, but no matter. Mind that bug, it's not polite to go sitting on your neighbors, didn't your mother ever teach you manners?"