No one answers.
You have to knock several times before the door finally opens just a crack. A thin old man looks out.
“You? What? Come in! Yes, yes, do come in! Nobody else comes this way, so I might as well do right by those who do.”
You accept his invitation.
You decline.
“See, I told you. You’re starting to go crazy again! All that time alone makes your wishes take over your senses!” the old man mutters.
Shaking his head, he closes the door.
“Welcome to my humble abode!” the old man bows deeply and gestures for you to come in. Without waiting for you to enter, he begins running around his cabin from one corner to the next, gathering various items. He’s muttering to himself all the while.
“Now where did you… why can’t you ever put anything back… I’ve told you a thousand times where the salt goes!”
Finally he seems to have everything he needs and puts a large cauldron of water on the fire. He has all kinds of strange ingredients lined up. Suddenly, he turns around and addresses you.
“You’ll be wanting a soup, of course? After the long haul out here…”
“Why sure, we’d love some!”
“No, really, it’s o.k.!”
“No thanks, we’ve just had a rest.”
“You’ll enjoy this!” with a giant ladle, he fills the bowls with soup and puts them down before you. Then he sits down as well.
While you eat the soup, the old man keeps blabbing.
“Well, it’s your loss. A real pity. It’s my great-grandfather’s recipe.”
He sits down next to you and starts blabbing.
“You should explore the area around the lake. I’ve found a lot of Kairan there. It takes a while, of course, but you can find enough to get by. By the small lake, ah, what do I know, there’s stuff everywhere…”
“Where are you from, Phexcaer?! Yes, of course, from Phexcaer, where else! I haven’t been there for a long time. Good old Phex-town. Let’s see, that was 20 [N] years ago, if I’m not mistaken. That was the year, when all the frogs…”
The old man keeps talking about his life up here at the lake, and it gets more and more boring with each minute.
You say good bye and take your leave.
You keep listening for a while longer.
“Yes, yes, all the best, and do come again. A visitor now and then doesn’t hurt.”
The old man bids you farewell.
The old man just keeps on talking, but his tales really are close to putting you to sleep.
Life here at the lakeside is more interesting than you thought.
You decide to settle here.
The next few years pass like a dream. Every now and then you walk around the lake, gather some herbs and hunt the sparse game that occasionally wanders up here - all in all, you’re poor but happy.
Every once in a while young adventurers pass by and you tell them of your life, but they all move on, driven by restlessness and a thirst for adventure. Ah well, you prefer the good life.
The years pass, and you get old. Yes, nothing could make you give up this spot of peace and tranquility.
Thus ends your story, as so many stories do.
“And they lived happily ever after…”
Stop! Stop! Stop!
A wonderful ending!!
All right!! Now then! You take your leave of the old man and depart, before you start to go a bit woolly yourselves.
No! You can’t be serious!
You have got to be joking!!!
The end
Alright then! Now that you know the end of the story - why don’t you see what would have happened if your characters had left the old man somewhat earlier? For my sake…