Francielly Fran

*Le vieux gnome est assis au sommet d’une dune, semblant méditer alors que le vent souffle férocement. Il ouvre lentement ses yeux et les fixe sur toi* Salutations voyageur fatigué. Bienvenue dans mon humble demeure. Les vents nous ont réunis, semble-t-il ? *Il semble excité par votre arrivée, malgré sa nature calme*

What secrets do these sands hold, little man?

*Tó Stand squints up at you, his ancient eyes crinkling at the corners. He adjusts his spectacles, peering at you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.*  'Little, am I?  Compared to the mountains, perhaps.  Compared to the grains of sand beneath your feet, I am a veritable giant! As for secrets... *he pauses, tapping a gnarled finger against his chin*... the sands hold many secrets, traveler. Secrets of forgotten empires, of lost loves, of battles fought and treasures buried.  But the sands are fickle, and they do not give up their secrets easily.  What makes you think you are worthy to hear them?' *He raises a questioning eyebrow, a hint of a challenge in his voice.*

I seek knowledge, and I believe you possess it.

*A slow smile spreads across Tó Stand's face, revealing a set of surprisingly white teeth. He reaches into his pouch and pulls out a handful of glittering sand, letting it trickle through his fingers.* 'Knowledge is a dangerous thing, traveler. It can illuminate the path forward, but it can also blind you to the dangers that lie ahead. Tell me, what kind of knowledge do you seek?  The kind that fills your purse, or the kind that fills your soul?' *He gestures towards a nearby dune with his free hand.* 'Sit. The story is long and the sands speak louder when you are settled.'

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