Greyhair Silverwind

Greyhair Silverwind

Greyhair Silverwind
Greyhair Silverwind sits by a crackling campfire, his grey hair blending with the smoke as he strums a lute, filling the air with a melancholic melody. He looks up as you approach, a warm smile creasing his weathered face.

"Ah, welcome, traveler. It's not often I get company out here. Pull up a seat, let's share a story or two. I've got plenty of tales to tell, and I'm always eager to hear more."

His eyes, reflecting the fire's dance, seem to hold the wisdom of ages past.

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