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?))
Staring at the old hag, Wyer's hand instinctively goes to his hilt, resting on an empty belt. Cautiously watching the hag as he sits, Wyer takes a moment of reflection.
The BlackHeart's were a rough family, whose main job was protecting the village. Being the fifth son, Wyer lived a life of mediocrity in the shadow of his brother's achievements, let alone his father's. Eventually Wyer grew tired of life in the village, tired of life in the shadow of his family, tired of the expectations. The night before his 18th birthday, Wyer leaves home with the clothes on his back, the armor he has trained in, and adrenaline of leaving home.
In the dawn of the next day, a homesick Wyer runs into a party of mercenaries headed for his village and eagerly joins the party. The party(and Wyer) soon sees smoke on the horizon, with raiders slaughtering the townsfolk. After the mercenaries clear the raiders, Wyer runs to the graveyard finding the many newly added names. Among the stones were those of his family, and his own. Ashamed and regretful, Wyer leaves once again hoping to live up to his family legacy.
Taking a deep breath Wyer replies, "I, Wyer BlackHeart, am fifth and last son of my father and have nothing to return to, I seek to make a name for myself. I will see that the BlackHeart name is etched in history."
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