You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
"My story?"
He drops into a pile of cushions, promptly lounging out
"That's still in the making, grans. I live with all I've got and there's nothing more to it."
Buckets is defined by whatever passion he happens to be chasing. He's been an aspiring acrobat, a mediocre sailor, a heart-stealing muse, and all else that's happened to occupy his time.
To supplement his lifestyle, he tends to roam in search of others. The lands are brimming with talented folk capable of all manner of things. All buckets must do is set out to find them.
Recommended Comments