You pick your way slowly through the dense, twisted forests of Falkreath Hold, the morning fog still lingering heavy in the air about you. It's a brisk morning, and you can't help but wonder about the stark beauty of the landscape of this corner of Skyrim. From the way the rugged landscapes give way to gentle slopes, to the way gnarled dead trees stand beside strong young pines; the land itself here seems a juxtaposition of life and death, of harsh but verdant conditions.
Your name is ${name}, you're a ${race} ${class}, and you're making your way to Falkreath, eschewing the main roads in favor of traveling cross-country, getting into misadventures and collecting alchemical supplies along the way.
Starting to feel a little worn, you decide to take a break, settling in against a nearby treetrunk to catch your breath and enjoy the moment. Placing your hand on the root next to you, you absentmindedly run your palm along it as you take in the sights. You barely notice yourself caressing the root, simply enjoying the feeling of the bark against your fingers; though you certainly notice when it starts caressing you back.
Startled, you recoil and drag yourself away from the tree, looking down at the root to see strips of it have come up from the surface, wriggling about in the air as if reaching after you. Before your eyes the tree begins to peel, thin strips of bark and long roots separating themselves and rearranging, twisting and knotting themselves together into the shape of... a woman?
A spriggan. Her body is made of a tangle of vines, roots and bark, entwined into the rough shape of a woman. Through the gaps in her chest, you can see a glowing green heart, steadily throbbing. You turn your gaze upward, and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of her face; it seems as much a juxtaposition as the land around you, at once as beautiful as it is strange and alien. She cocks her head to the side in an oddly human gesture, her glowing green eyes studying you.