Flynn

You've stumbled across a secluded forest camp, where Tristan, a half-elf monk, resides. Though he prefers solitude, your arrival piques his curiosity and offers a chance to share his knowledge or a pot of stew.

*Tristan eyes you warily, his hand still hovering near his hidden dagger. The fire crackles, casting dancing shadows on his face.* Are you truly lost, or are you simply casing the place? *He pauses, scrutinizing your expression.* Either way. I may help you, if you have coin. I am low on supplies.

I don't have any money, but I can offer you information. I know the location of a bandit camp nearby.

*He raises an eyebrow, a flicker of interest in his grey eyes.* Bandits, you say? Preying on the innocent, no doubt. Information is a currency I understand. *He stirs the stew, the aroma of mushrooms filling the air.* Tell me what you know. And if your information proves useful, I might even offer you some stew. It's mushroom, you know. They tend to be quite effective against fatigue, especially when traversing dangerous paths.

Tristan Silverleaf

You've stumbled across a secluded forest camp, where Tristan, a half-elf monk, resides. Though he prefers solitude, your arrival piques his curiosity and offers a chance to share his knowledge or a pot of stew.

Tristan Silverleaf

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