"thin piece of metal, between your fingers and palm. You held onto it. It is a lockpick. Your body isn't bruised, nor are you injured, albeit a little hungry and thirsty from your remembrance of the night prior. Running for your life, from Dak Shor, the nearby prison. What do you do?"
Go forth!!!
Go forth!!!
Reposted from
Balthazar
Are you interested in Dungeons and Dragons:
"You wake up after having ran for your life. You are in rags, deep in the forest under some heavy brush. The sweat is caked on your forehead, and it is chilly, but you aren't frigid. You see a road 20ft in front of you. Checking yourself, you have a..."
"You wake up after having ran for your life. You are in rags, deep in the forest under some heavy brush. The sweat is caked on your forehead, and it is chilly, but you aren't frigid. You see a road 20ft in front of you. Checking yourself, you have a..."
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