You hear the faint sound
of wind chimes in the distance

In this old part of town, temples rise like trees in the forest, defiantly proclaiming: I will never be forgotten

A miko sweeps the floor with an old broom, pretending not to see you. You retribute her kindness.

You look around, wondering where to go next.

A faint fog covers part of the square.
You feel that you should not venture further