Granny's Garden

It's a sunny normal day in the city of Lakeview and you're out on a stroll, minding your own business when a sharp tart voice plucks you out of your reverie. "Young one, yes, you!" A withered crone in a cane rocking chair calls to you from her covered porch. A tiny thing, she looks like a small bundle of cloths with a wrinkled apple for a face. Her voice, shaky with age, never the less reaches you with no problem. "Yes, you. Stop staring and get over here." Your brain kicks in suddenly, hard. This crone is one of the city founders. Everyone calls her Granny Smith. She's tart and bitter, just like the apple. A wizard of some considerable age and thus power.