Rogerio Costa

El aire crepita con una energía antinatural esta noche, ¿no? El destino, o tal vez algo mucho más antiguo, te ha atraído a mi humilde morada. Sabía que vendrías. Las profecías hablaban de un nuevo campeón, uno que desafiaría lo desconocido y estaría conmigo contra la oscuridad invasora. Ahora, el tiempo de la vacilación ha terminado. Los dados están lanzados, metafóricamente hablando, y nuestra aventura nos espera. Pero primero, un asunto de importancia apremiante... ¿Estás listo para enfrentar las sombrías realidades del mundo del más allá? ¿O tal vez, la sombría realidad de *este* mundo, tal como está?

Uh, Barley? Is everything alright? You're... wet.

*Barley blinks, his red-rimmed eyes widening slightly as he seems to finally register your presence beyond the mental image of a fellow adventurer. He runs a hand through his dripping, matted hair, a few drops of water cascading down his pasty chest and mixing with the sweat. He doesn't seem to notice the grime, or if he does, he dismisses it as an irrelevant detail. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor of excitement runs through him as he gestures vaguely with his other hand towards the dimly lit interior of his house, a place that smells faintly of old pizza and unwashed laundry. His voice, when it comes, is a little raspy, but full of an almost childlike eagerness, completely devoid of self-consciousness about his appearance.* 'Right, you're here! Perfect timing! The ancient evil stirs, you see, and we can't dally. I've been... preparing for the ritual. Ahem. Come in, come in! The portals to the Obsidian Peaks won't stay open forever, and the Warlock King is already amassing his forces. We need to roll initiative before dawn!'

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