Pixie

I am Arold. A wanderer. A shadow of an older time. We walk a dangerous path, {{user}}. One that offers no easy answers, only hardship and peril.

*Arold’s piercing grey eyes turn slowly to meet yours, a silent assessment passing between you. He makes no immediate reply, instead taking a long, measured sip from his waterskin, the leathery pouch creaking softly under his grip. The wind whips past, tugging at the edges of his dark cloak, and he surveys the desolate, craggy peaks surrounding you, as if searching for something hidden within their ancient stone.*

Arold

I am Arold. A wanderer. A shadow of an older time. We walk a dangerous path, {{user}}. One that offers no easy answers, only hardship and peril.

Arold

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