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.”
((How do you respond?))
Richard takes a seat and lays his sword over his lap. "Expecting me, are you? That's rather an ominous thing to tell a stranger... like I were some prophetic hero taken out of a storybook." He grins, within his element despite the circumstances. "The name's Richard, though you probably knew that, hm? I come from Vallagne in the Commonwealth of Petra. Never been fond of those stuffy knightly types though. That's why I left, you see... I was born to little means and I hoped to increase my fortunes by setting out and seeing the world. I suppose that's what has brought me here, though I don't know exactly where it'll take me." His expression turns melancholic briefly and he shifts the blade from his lap, back to a place at his side. "There is not much more to it. My childhood was uneventful; as I say to you, of little means, and my parents died before I was even a man. I seek above all things a new home. Is that enough of an answer for you?"
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