"Never ye mind all that now," says a crotchety old voice querulously.
"I have need of a champion, and I ask if ye will be that one?"
You're being addressed by a wizened very old man dressed in a blue robe and pointy wide-brimmed blue hat. He has silvery-gray hair long down to his shoulders and an even longer white beard. Blue eyes like chips of ice peer at you from under bushy silver eyebrows.
"Ye may be our last hop," he says doubtfully. "But there be seven monster kings loose, each has stolen on of the seven powerstones, and until the stones are recovered and reunited, the realms will continue to fall into chaos until nothing survives!"
He pants, having run out of breath.
After leaning on his staff for a short while, he continues, in a quieter voice.
"Will ye do it? Will ye go on my quest?"
"Who ARE you?" You ask the old wizard.
"I..." he begins impressively...
"I am MERLIN THE MAGICIAN!"
7/27/2016 2:30:12 PM
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