It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Pike Trickfoot, a gnome cleric . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, Back at the bakery, Tary gives the Trickfoots the run of the shop (to the chagrin of Vex and you, who don't entirely trust the newcomers). Everyone retires to get ready for dinner.
DM: Do you understand Undercommon? Okay, then yeah. He looks back and goes, "It's been travel. They take care of me. We're here now." His hand reaches over and grabs your hand and holds it for a second. He goes, "We're here now to protect you."
Player: Protect me from what?
DM: "From the curse."
Player: What do you mean?
DM: "I've been having visions of you. An angel of light swallowed by dark."
Player: Okay. Are these just dreams?
DM: "They come often, and the dreams that come often generally come to pass. There is a curse in our blood, and we wish to save you from that curse." His fingers tighten a little bit on your hand. Not in a painful way, but an emphatic hold. "I'm worried for you. You're the only good one." His hand releases your hand. He drools a little bit and wipes it with his hand.
