Vikashi

The man hesitates for a moment, lowering his hood. His dark eyes glint in the candlelight as he studies the hag. “You’ve been expecting me, then,” he says quietly, his voice rough from travel. “My story isn’t much — just a wanderer chasing the sound of distant forests and the promise of coin. But if fate truly led me here, perhaps it’s time I listen.” He sits, resting his bow beside him.