There is something to be said for being alone in the wilderness of North America. You found yourself in the eastern edge of something called the Ozark's. Folks in a nearby lake village mentioned that a Castle of Refuge was out there bustling will all sorts of heroes, but so far you have not come across it. On this particular night the shadows of the trees were particularly long and the silence was profound. You came across another guardian of the verge as you crossed a stream. He looked to be an elderly gentleman covered in green moss. Underneath the moss was a simple armored breast plate, and instead of a walking stick he leaned upon a sheathed sword.
From the water he appeared as you crossed the other side of the stream as if the water formed his person. His voice was soft and gentle like the stream you crossed,
" My friend, a greetings to you on this auspicious eve. What brings you to the Ozarks?"
Feel free to react and tell a story about why you are out in this particular place.
@Stoic
