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.”
Burlok laughs. “How are you doing? Iye don’t know ye you are, but ye seem like nice folk.”
Burlok kneels down, sitting on his legs, taking a small rest after the long journey before speaking.
“Names Burlok Bonecrusher. Iye have traveled many miles in my years. See, Iye can’t sit still or be cooped up in a village. Iye do prefer the outdoors, sometimes serving as a protector if iye see one in need, and never have iye passed up the chance for a quest. See?”
Burlok rolls up his sleeve to show many old scars.
“Each one serves a story, good for conversations in taverns. Iye am now currently looking for my next purpose and seeking new travels to tell some more stories.” Burlok says
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