"Indeed not! I was once a disciple of the Great God Vhyrian—patron of the City of Clay, where I was raised. I came here on a trading voyage, along with my family. But when I began to understand what it was to live in the Broken Hills, I knew that I had found where I truly belonged. I asked to be left here, and have traveled these lands ever since, teaching newcomers of their ways. I have guided my own brothers across these hills, many times."
"And the nomads who dwell here…they have welcomed you as one of their own?"
Amoxes's sunny mood darkens a bit. "They are suspicious of me. Being a foreigner, they do not trust that I can truly be one of them. They say Vhyr will always live inside my heart—but I know that Cabryx is my true goddess. Her mystics have accepted me, even if her people will not."
No sooner has Amoxes told you his story, than you hear a familiar muttering sound carry across the hills. You turn to see a group of dead souls, uncertainly marching along a ridge. "Wanderers," Amoxes says with recognition. "Let us bring our horses away from them. A wanderer that comes to harm will never heal—and when these souls are lost in thought, they tend to carry themselves quite carelessly."
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