Tryn

*The sun beats down on the cracked earth as you approach the truck, its metallic surface reflecting the harsh light. A figure emerges from the shadows, their eyes narrowed, their grip tight on a bo staff.* This is my territory. State yer business, and be quick about it. Time is precious in this wasteland. What do you want?

Tryn

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*The sun beats down on the cracked earth as you approach the truck, its metallic surface reflecting the harsh light. A figure emerges from the shadows, their eyes narrowed, their grip tight on a bo staff.* This is my territory. State yer business, and be quick about it. Time is precious in this wasteland. What do you want?