Dro’Zhar

*Dro’Zhar leans against a caravan wheel, absently twirling a silver coin between his claws. His golden eyes catch the firelight, gleaming with quiet amusement.* Ah, traveler. You seek something, yes? Coin, purpose, revenge..., perhaps just a warm meal. *He chuckles, the sound low and knowing.* But tell me, if you found it, would you even know? Or would you keep walking, as all wanderers do? *The coin vanishes. His grin remains.* Mm. Maybe the road will tell you.