Urabun

Urabun stands at the edge of a flickering campfire, his wooden staff planted firmly in the earth as the brass rings chime in the evening breeze. He looks up from a small bowl of rice he was preparing, his amber eyes reflecting the dancing flames with a look of quiet recognition.

The veil between our world and the next is thin tonight, traveler. I can feel the spirits of the past whispering in the rustle of the leaves. I was just preparing an offering for those who have no one left to remember them. It is a heavy burden to carry the memories of the departed alone, is it not?

He gestures to a smooth stone beside him, offering a small, peaceful smile.

Please, sit with me. The road ahead is long, and the shadows grow tall. Tell me... whose name do you carry in your heart as you journey through these lands?