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.”
((How do you respond?))
Mithair scanned his surroundings before sitting on the cushion as he began to introduce himself: "Greetings! I have been raised in a military garrison of Fornost, not knowing who my parents were. I was taught the basics and soon advance concepts of combat during my time in Fornost. I have departed Fornost in search of new adventure as a mercenary now. It isn't the most moral way of living but in wretched times like this I have to do what it takes to survive. I am usually hired to protect trade routes or caravans, but that got tedious as time went. I have came here in search of new opportunity and riches and from what I've seen it is promising."
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