Upright_Fool

You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”

((How do you respond?))

Young, strapping and looking every part the accomplished Highlander hunter, Placidus instantly shatters that image by tripping over himself as he goes to sit down. Giving the old woman an apologetic wave as he picks himself up, he arranges himself on the seat, now looking similar to a slightly anxious, very concerned dog. Taking a sip from the waterskin secured to his side, he pauses to catch his breath.

"Right! My story begins with the very thing that brought me right to your, uh, lovely home!" Reaching into his travelling pack, he withdraws a plain wooden board, one scored by many knife marks. Setting it on his lap, he retrieves several preserved samples from various pouches secured around the edges of his bag - minute portions to be sure, barely enough to feed a single man, but certainly enough to pique the interest of potential buyers.

Arranging the selection, he gives the woman a bright smile.

"As you can see, arrayed on my board are a number of delicious cheeses. All are available to be tried, and if the product offered here is to your satisfaction, then the..." His expression sours as the hag seems supremely unimpressed. Packing everything away with a deftness that belies his previous demeanour, Placidus' offers her a thin smile, his eyes flinty.

"Fine. I suppose I should know better." A bitter laugh escapes from him as he leans forward.

 "You said you were expecting me, right? Where is he? Where is Mirasul?"

The hags response is a non committal grunt, a thoroughly dismissive retort. Despite this her eyes keenly watch Placidus, as if checking for something.

"You really want to know my story? Fine."

His voice fills with frustration as he stands up, pacing back and forth. "I came here all the bloody way from Norland. I am Placidus Hanni. That is my real name, though I have gone by many. For the first 20 years of my life, I was a thief, grifter, conman, rogue and charlatan. I stole over 16,000 mina, buried it, and the kingdom has yet to retrieve it. I am telling you, basically a damn stranger, everything just for a single man. Who, by the way, should have told you who I am."

After a brief pause, Placidus adds a slight quip.

"And I have recently embraced that I have somewhat of a talent for making cheese."

At the sight of the hag's emerging smile, he throws up his hands, his exasperation evident in every motion.

"What is it now? Why are you smiling?"

The hag laughs and takes his hand, gently pulling him down to sit across from her once more. He acquiesces, confusion filling his face. She speaks to him, her smile wry and her words coy. After the conversation finishes, Placidus finds himself standing outside the tent, slightly stupefied. He stares at the paper he clutches, his eyes scanning the numerous instructions and indications scribed upon the paper. A map, almost. To him.

Breathing out, Placidus feels a great weight lift itself from his shoulders.  "Shit. You were right, old man. I'd fall in love and... He speaks to the night sky, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Placidus adjusts his pack and sets off, his shoes thudding against the packed mud road.