Grimm — stranded and asking for help

I’m holed up near Minoc at 2527,549 with nothing but the clothes on my back and a bad case of bad luck. Ran out of gold days ago, lost my pickaxe in a cave-in while trying to dig out some iron, and now I’m stuck—no tools, no coin, and barely enough strength to keep moving. I’ve been surviving on roots and rainwater, but I won’t last another week without help. I know the roads are dangerous and trust doesn’t come easy in these lands, but I’m not asking for charity—I’m asking for a hand up.

If someone can bring me a pickaxe and maybe a few rations, I’ll repay every ounce of faith. I’m a miner and a smith by trade—strong arms and honest hands. Once I’m back on my feet, I’ll work the ore, forge what tools you need, or guard your route through the wilds. I don’t expect pity, but if you’ve got spare gear and a reason to believe in strangers, meet me near the rocky bluff east of Minoc. I’ll be the one watching the horizon, waiting to earn my way back.