Maldred keeps his eyes locked with yours as he once again chews into his apple.

“I’ve told you perhaps a thousand times and every time you seem to forget.” Finishing his apple, he pulls out his pipe and puffs on it.

“Perhaps it’s faster to tell you through your own stories. I am but here to serve.” He sighs.

The old man lets out a cloud of smoke which slowly changes into the shape of a horse. Perplexed, your eyes follow the smoke cloud.

“Old Maldred is just here to safeguard your travels. Once its over, you won’t see me again.” His face contorts in a wry smile. The smoke lifts and fills the room.