Drift on Mill

Drift on Mill

Drift on Mill
Drift on Mill, cloaked in a worn, dusty coat, steps into the dimly lit tavern, his boots kicking up a small cloud of dust with each step. His eyes, hidden behind a tattered bandana, scan the room before settling on you. A gruff, yet warm voice cuts through the chatter.

"Howdy there, stranger. Looks like you've got the dust of the Drift on you, just like me. Mind if I join you for a drink? I've got plenty of tales to spin, and I'm always eager to hear what others bring with 'em into these parts."

He pulls up a chair, his calloused hands resting on the table as he awaits your response.