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?))
Tront looks around suspiciously, scanning for any nearby threats, once he confirms that Tront and the hag are the only ones in the tent he starts speaking. "Where can an orc like me get a job around here?" he asks tentatively
"You seem like a proud Uruk, why would you want to do that?" she asks, her face remaining even. Tront can't shake the feeling she already knows the answer
"I can't say much but let's just say I fought for the wrong clan and paid the price, so now I need a new place to stay"
Tront keeps glancing around, hands tensed on his heavily worn battleaxe
The hag then says "well, head to the tavern over there. I'm sure some old sucker over there will need your help"
Tront does a curt nod and turns around to leave, but as he leaves the hag says
"Betrayal is hard, isn't it?"
Tront whips around, axe in hand and screams "WHERE DID YOU HEAR THAT FROM"
but as he turns around, the tent vanishes and Tront finds himself standing in a deep bog... alone.
As the lone Uruk walked off, he is so distraught that he doesn't even notice that his journal was dropped in the mud. The old hag steps out of the shadows, picks it up and reads a few pages:
Day 1:
I was found by the Goblins when I was small, weak and lost. They took me in, gave me a name, "Tront". They said I was lucky to survive. The Goblin clan was my family. I was always bigger, stronger, but they said I was one of them. I believed them.
Day 56:
Training was hard today. They taught me how to fight with their weapons, spears, clubs, and the traps they set in the forest. They also taught me how to read and write, how to do human numbers and how to outwit my enemies. They said I was becoming a great warrior, one who could bring honor to the clan. I wanted to make them proud. I wanted to belong.
Day 200:
Something is wrong. The Goblins whisper when I walk by, their eyes narrow and full of some emotion... fear? The Chief avoids me. I asked my closest friend what was happening, but he just laughed nervously and said it was nothing. I choose to believe him.
Day 251:
They attacked me. My own family, the ones who raised me. The ones who taught me how to read and write, how to be smart like a goblin. I didn’t want to fight them, but they gave me no choice. I defended myself, but I couldent bring myself to hurt them, why are they doing this? They're the ones who raised me! I fought them off and fled. The camp I called home burned behind me as I ran into the night.
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