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?)) Would perk his brow as he wanders in to meet the old hag, extending his hand to shake hers. “I hail from the lands of Celia’nor. I mainly lived a boring life. Drinking and smoking within the tavern. My father and mother always cursed me out for getting so drunk.” A loud chuckle belted out as he said, “They kicked me out with nothing to my name. So now I wander to see what life has in store for me.” he would pause. “I think I wish to visit the Heartlands, take in the sights of Aaun, Petra and Veletz and maybe reside within those nations.” a brief smile upon his face would form “I trained a little bit with a blade and bow but would not say I am an expert by any means, but I must leave as there is a tavern calling my name!” giving a slight nod to the old hag as he leaves the tattered tent. A slight hum can be heard as he goes on his merry way.
