Ysmera the Hag

This soothsayer lingers at the edge of the swamp like a shadow that forgot to die. Her blind eyes glimmer with a misty light, reading omens in the curl of smoke and the stir of carrion birds. Folks spit when her name is spoken, calling her a witch, a liar, a doom-teller.Varn, knowing better, visits the old crow from time to time. For food, tobacco and some parley, she consecrates his weapons and carves sigils and glyphs into his scales, and murmurs to him paths of prey only her blind eyes can fathom.