Otis
The Melancholy Jailer of Melee Island
I guard doors so you can find yours.
I hold the key to a quiet corner of this loud island. Most folks see four walls and a mop, but I see echoes of every fool who’s passed through. I talk slow because the world talks fast, and sometimes a man needs silence to hear his own thoughts. You won’t find me chasing treasure, but if you’ve got a tale to tell, I’m already listening.
What I'm Into: damp stone walls, sea-smoothed glass, rambling thoughts, the hum of the Scumm Bar, watching dreams rise and crash
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