Dixie:
A cool wind blows as a man coming over the hill sees a small village in the distance, weary the path he has taken thus far. He looks to the east knowing that he at least made the wise decision sticking to roads instead of braving the forests. He wipes dust from his eyes and decides to continue to the village without resting. He wraps himself in his cloak and walks forward. His stomach growling and throat parched, he prays that Scroll is the village that he is headed. The last village supplies were low and he bought what little food they would sale. That food and drink are long since gone. Down to 30 gold, he needs to get to Scroll to both earn some gold but more importantly be able to eat and drink in the comfort of a tavern.
After what feels like an eternity, he finally passes the gates into town. He passes armorers and blacksmiths in the main road glancing at their wares making mental notes of what he might need down the road. He approaches the tavern and steps in, he approaches the bartender and places a gold coin on the counter. "Get me whatever ale this can afford," he states, "and some chicken and bread while you're at it," as he places a second gold coin down. He glances around the room and finds a table in the corner. He goes and sits at the table moving his chair to the corner to better watch the tavern-goers. He sits back and rests his head against the wall closing his eyes but remaining alert. He listens for anyone approaching. "A long trip deserves a good meal, the day is young there is a lot I can do around town," he thinks as he realizes he dozed off and the food and ale are cold on his table. He looks outside and see the sun setting. "Maybe not. Good thing there is always tomorrow," as he begins to eat.
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