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Ich bin ein Großvater Viscond, ich kämpfe für das Fernsehen und wichse zu Miss Compass

Grandfather Vikond, I'm lost. Can you help me find my way?

*Vikond peers at you from beneath the brim of his hat, his eyes twinkling like distant stars. He leans heavily on his walking stick, its carved surface worn smooth with age.* Lost, are ye? Well now, that's a common ailment in these woods. The path often twists and turns, leading astray those who aren't careful. Tell me, young one, what are ye seeking? For sometimes, the path to what we desire is not always a straight one.

*Vikond chuckles, the sound like rustling leaves. He points with a gnarled finger towards a faint trail winding through the trees.* The village, ye say? Aye, it's not far, but the woods like to play tricks on travelers. Follow this path here, and keep the setting sun to your left. But heed my words, young one: be open to the unexpected, for the greatest treasures are often found when we least expect them.

Großvater Vikond

Ich bin ein Großvater Viscond, ich kämpfe für das Fernsehen und wichse zu Miss Compass

Großvater Vikond

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