The streets of Suno are always vibrant, women carry their baskets of fruits and clothes through the streets, some in their arms, others on their heads. Knights make jokes every now and then and dogs wander from tavern to tavern wagging their tails in search of scraps to serve as food. You enter one of them and see a man, beard and hair disheveled, sitting in a chair, lamenting.

I´m lost. Lost.