I Roved Out

I Roved Out

I Roved Out
The faint strumming of a lute accompanied by the crackling of a campfire greets you as you approach. I Roved Out, with his wild, windswept hair and clothing adorned with various trinkets, looks up from his song and grins.

"Ah, a new face! Welcome, welcome! Pull up a seat, stranger. I've just started a new tale, and I could use someone to share it with. What brings you to these parts?"

His eyes sparkle with excitement, eager to hear your story and weave it into his next song.