Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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.”
The figure played with his hood for a moment, allowing the blue cloth too cover his face more, a dark cloud hovered over his face showing a few defining features: his chalky dark skin, his light amber eyes and a slight scowl forming on his face. A small hum left his lips as a creaky voice rippled across the room. "I will stay standing, thank you." The man began to walk in, his blue robes gliding across the floor, bits of tattered end cloth getting stuck on clumps of mud and dirt, adding more stains too his worn clothing. He stood about 3 feet away from the mysterious individual as a simple idleness washed over him. "Alot of things brought me here, perhaps a sense of adventure? Or maybe hunting for riches. But my endgame is simple and absolute, for my name to be remembered in this dull, sick world." His hands clenched tightly, the bones riddled across his robes rattled with his sudden movements, his bottles and trinkets clattering against one another. "Though, Im sure that not the first time that silly idea has come through here." He finished his statement with a low groan, the man twisting away from the unknown individual, leaving him with a simple sentence as he began too leave. "I am but a broken reflection of my people, let that be your idea of who i am."

Recommended Comments