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.”
Royce steps in and shuffles to the offered seat, lowering himself down with a huff, lowering the mask that covered his mouth and nose as a courtesy, "Well, where to start really. I wasn't really expecting to be dealing with an old crone like yourself. I was expecting someone of more... shady repute," Waving a hand almost as quickly as he judges her appearance, taking a look around the tent and furrowing his brow as he locks eyes on some rather curious trinkets, "I came from a well off family, a couple of merchants who made their start as farmers and whatnot. Father was a coward, mother was a fiery go getter. They somehow made a great team and then they had me!" Motioning to himself with a rather flashy grin, "But no matter how much they taught me I wanted neither to take over the farm or the family shop. That life was too boring for me, especially with how much of a pushover my father was," A scowl crosses over Royce's face as he recounts the man, leaning to the side and resting his head on one hand, "Always bending the knee to anyone threatening enough. Real or otherwise. It wasn't until a local lord saw it fit to try seeing just how much of a doormat my father was by trying to take my mother from us... unlike my father though, the lord couldn't handle her temper and earned himself a few marks he'll never forget," His expression brightening as he spoke, but that smirk only reached so far, "He wasn't too happy about that and saw it fit to pay her back for that rejection tenfold. My father did nothing. Me being the only man of the house as I saw it, I tried to do something but instead earned myself a mark to remember that event by," Reaching the other hand up to show off the milky looking eye, "Fortunately that's all I got left with, and in fact, was given the chance to escape my more mundane life for something far more interesting. I learned the streets. How to blend in, how to lie, cheat and steal," The man lifts that mask over his face once more and gives a stretch, "Got good enough that I've gotten hired here and there to take up some below the table jobs! Spying for people, taking back what was wrongfully taken and even forging documents! Your classic storybook vigilante type some might say," Chuckling that part out while he comes to a stand. Reaching into a pouch at his waist and pulling out a small dark object, glancing to the older woman for just a moment before tossing it down at the ground between them. Immediately that tent fills with smoke and as she is left reeling, he quickly steps past her and stuffs a few objects into the pouch. The item he was after was somewhere, but a few extra bits would help line his coin purse, "Not me though. I do what I do because it's fun," Smoke trails after him as he exits the tent and hurries down the road before anyone gets too curious about the sudden commotion going on from where he just left.
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