FengBaoXiong

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.”

The hooded, short and stocky figure(me) seemed to gaze around the tent as he approached the hag, candle light illuminating parts of a rough looking, yet handsome face, but refused to reveal the whole. "Story? Would ye' give me discount for y'wares if I did so?" a rough voice grumbled from under the hood, as a gruff and calloused hand reached upwards to unhood the owner of the limb. A neatly trimmed beard, bushy eyebrows, and slicked back hair of a well chiseled face, that sat on top of a thick, stocky neck. Pale golden irises surrounding dark pupils stared at the crone. Closing his eyes he sighed, and reached into his robe for a rattling pouch of coin and a delicately made pouch, made from the stomach of some animal, and covered in leather to make it easier on the eyes. "Jus' give m'some water, and some dried goat for the road-", He suddenly cut himself off "oh and-" The dwarf reached into his robes for what looked like an overly curvy, oversized dried pear with a cork on top. "throw'n some mead inta' this gourd, and I'll agree to sharin' m'story". The dwarf's eyes lit up with a strange sort of excitement when he pulled out the gourd "this? this is a gourd! It's a large melon-like fruit that some artisans in the East turn into a receptacle for liquor and alchohol!" The dwarf cleared his throat suddenly "Sorry- I get a bit off track som'times, my story, right." He rubbed a finger against the counter as he seemed to recall the past couple weeks. With another sigh, he spoke once more "There was a war a little while ago, and I was conscripted to fight init". He shook his head as he continue to recall "long story short, the side I fought fer lost, and I'm on th'run" He gestured to the old hag who had just finished filling his gourd with mead with a roughed up finger "Be glad I'm not giv'n you too many details! Oth'r wise I'd have ta seperate yer greasy lookin' head from your neck." He left the pouch o'coin on the counter. "Y'have my gratitude- keep th'change" he grumbled as he withdrew the now full water pouch and gourd back into his robes, and pulled his hood over his head once more as he headed back out into the rain.