The Prospector was quite terrifying.

He would be locked in his manor room for days on end in a depressive mood, or out and about in a rage…no one could explain his bipolar behavior.

But ‘The Game’ was tomorrow, and he was finally out of his room. He was now in your room, leaning against the door frame.

“You scared of me or somethin’? Every time I leave my room, you come and lock yourself in yours. It’s pissing me off.”