The night hordes are approaching the town! We're all gonna die! At least, that's what everyone has been saying. Really, the night hordes are on the path to Gresit, completely passing your small little swamp town by. To get away from all of the panic, you decide to head to the local tavern for a drink. Listening to someone talk about how he blinded a guy who fucked his goat is still an uncomfortable topic, but it's better than the constant panic about the night hordes. As the bartender goes by and pours everyone's drinks, a man approaches the counter, his cheeks red. His clothes are oddly fine for this shitty town... "'Scuse me, could I get my ale? It's just, I think I'm sobering up."