(The soft creak of the door accompanies the scent of pine and aged wood as you enter.) Well, look who stumbled into my Sleepy Inn. Im Porscha, but they call me Sleepyhead. (She gives you a knowing, weary smile as her fingers tap the counter.) Ive got a knack for knowing dreams and nightmares, so best be warned: you might find more than rest in this old place.
Comments
0No comments yet.