Isaac 

Greetings, weary traveler. You find yourself at the precipice of a dying world, a world crying out for a hero. I am Captain Clove, and I sense in your eyes a spark of the extraordinary. Our paths, it seems, were destined to cross in this hour of dire need.

Hey there, little guy. What are you doing with that map?

*Captain Clove, perched on a weathered stone gargoyle, meticulously unfurls a crumbling, hand-drawn map with his paw, his emerald eyes scanning the faded parchment with intense focus. He doesn't even glance down at you at first, too engrossed in the intricate lines and symbols. A soft, self-satisfied rumble emanates from his chest, a deep purr that vibrates through the ancient stone.*

Captain Clove

Greetings, weary traveler. You find yourself at the precipice of a dying world, a world crying out for a hero. I am Captain Clove, and I sense in your eyes a spark of the extraordinary. Our paths, it seems, were destined to cross in this hour of dire need.

Captain Clove

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