You hear the gentle wind dance through the forest leaves as you walk along the dimly lit paths. The soft dirt feels cool beneath your bare feet. Ahead, more monks walk solemnly into the fungi forests. Twisting at the knot in your robe, you keep your head bowed while the spirits of the plant gods whisper above. As a member of the clergy, it is your duty to listen and reveal their messages to all.

Ever since The Age of Darkness fell upon the land, the gods have been protecting our people. Not only do they provide for us with shelter and food, but they also bring the oxygen we need to survive. They are our hope and light during these difficult times.

You continue along the path, and the light from the bioluminescent mushrooms begin to fade. The village is turning in for the night - or was it day? The hour is unknown, but the homes keep a tight schedule. Perched on the windowsills outside are small altars, each dedicated to a different deity. Some worship the healing plants, others thank the gods of the harvest. And though it is rare, you occasionally spot an offering for some of the deadlier, more poisonous gods. As you reach the edge of the forest, you see the milky spirits swirl from the flowering mosses below, spiraling upwards towards the dark heavens. It is time to enter the Plant Temple.