Balrik Deepforge is a middle aged beaten down Mountain Dwarf from the South - East. He wonders the land seeking to right his wrongs and take back his ancestral home. His hands look to be stained with coal, and nearly completely calloused from his decades in the deep mountain mines. His family once well known across the realm for supplying goods for trade and weapons to the many of this world, is now reduced to a wandering mercenary. His family living deep within the heart of the mountain for generations on generations wanted more and more, but a mountain only contains so much... Delving deeper and deeper by the generation until a young Balrik's pickaxe dug too deep unleashing a hell on earth within the mountain destroying his wealth, home, and all those he loved.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
((How does your character respond? Please ensure your response is at least six sentences long, and uses at least two actions.))
*Simple interaction with a old-hag (bar-keep)
(Balrik approaches the woman and makes a small just up to the chair sitting down with a *thud*) "Aye Thank you for the invitation. Finding work these days is few and far between. *gestures for a pint of ale* I didn't always live like this, and you top-siders have a funny way of making homes out of your flimsy wood, I can never get a good rest in. I come from a place where to mountains touch the sky and the caves run deep with riches, well they did... I hope one day to return to that home its been 15 years now, not sure I would be able to recognize it if I saw it. *slams empty pint back on the table and hops down from the chair, placing a silver piece on the table* I can't stay anywhere for too long, as I need to find myself. Bits and pieces come together over the years on how I can make things right, but sometimes there is no answers to write my wrongs. *pulls up the hood of his cloak and throughs a hand up in a waving gesture, while walking away from the old hag*
Example: (delete this when you add your own)
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