Somewhere in Tycho, an adventurer is lost. All they see in this celestial wasteland is dust. However, they suddenly spot something in the distance. Running toward it, they find themselves looking at a tavern. Briefly, they read the welcoming sign. ‘Dragonblood Inn, huh?’
“Welcome, traveller,
to this tavern of no fear.
Your tales are shared here.
Now, sit back, relax,
unwind, maybe have a drink,
and hear some stories!”
As they enter the inn, the indistinct chatter of many fellow adventurers could immediately be heard. Many of them seemed to hail from various realms.
Hear a few?
Over in the corner, a woman with long brown hair and green eyes wearing druidic robes was sitting at a table as she wrote something down with a quill, her eyes squinting through her glasses. On the table, the sign “Guidance” was standing proudly.
Bug her?
“Psst, hey, kid.” A voice whispers to you, and, upon turning your head toward it, you find yourself face to face with the innkeeper, a tall, pale man with greying curly hair and a stubbly chin. “This whole lot of adventurers love tellin’ tales of their own, boasting about their triumphs. But me? I’ve got stories of a certain bunch, a bunch that I haven’t seen in quite a while.”
Care to hear ’em?
You look toward the entrance. Surprisingly, they were still there, wide open. This whole thing didn’t seem to be an act to trap foolish wanderers. You could leave anytime you wish.
Why not stay a while, though?