You walked slowly to Brom's house, lost in your own thoughts. You stopped at the doorstep and raised your hand to knock. A raspy voice spoke up behind you, "what do you want, child?"

You spun around. Behind you stood Brom, leaning on a twisted staff, adorned with strange carvings. He was wearing a brown cloak with a hood, like a munk. A purse hung from the worn leather belt he wore around his waist.

Above his white beard stood out a proud, crooked nose hooked over his mouth and dominated the face. He stared at you with deep set eyes, shadowed by bushy eyebrows, waiting for your answer.