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.”
*He raised his head as he looked around at his surroundings, his nose curling as he smelled the rotten wood and moss. After entering the illuminated tent his eyes gazed over towards the old hag. Skeptical as he listened to what she said his eyes widened in confusion when she paused to offer him a seat. Taking a seat on the cushion infront of him he introduced himself.* "If you insist, You can call me Hawkeye... a woodelf raised by my two parents who have which passed many years ago. We did spend a lot of time in the woods surviving on our own. Hunting, fishing, and just generally living with what nature provided to us. They taught me how to read, fight, know which berries is safe to eat and all." *He paused as he thought about his late parents for a few minutes before continuing his tale.* "After their deaths I decided to go explore the world after my parents passing since I have nothing left to ground me to one general location. I only stopped in this... town to get some rest and food."
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