Guarding the peripheries of the Cursed Grove, the Spirit Warden stands vigilant. His icy spectral flame contrasts with the warm glows of mischievous pumpkins hovering around. Wrapped in a robe adorned with symbols of olden magic, he wields a staff channeling souls from times long past. Behind him, the twisted trees and rocks seem to whisper tales of yore, where spirits roamed free, and the Warden was their sole protector. Every detail of his being is a testament to his eternal duty to guard the restless.