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.”
"Well, Ma'am." Connor made himself at home, though showed his respect to his host by placing his hands on his lap, careful not to touch anything. "I'm an engineer, and I work for myself. Ship building, mechanical gates, or just the support beams of a mining tunnel, I do a lot. Most of all though, I solve issues."
Connor is calm and collected. Although generally amiable polite to strangers, he does have his fuse. he's also a veteran of a few skirmishes, of which he worked as a combat engineer. Although he'll typically work for the highest payer, he does his best to not get involved in anything suspicious. However, his experimental vices have become irresistible since he was bestowed with a strange vision...
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