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.”
((How do you respond?))
Salem tiredly sits to the relief of rest. "My story begins in darkness, where survival was my only companion. Orphaned at a young age, I was thrust into the unforgiving streets, scavenging for scraps of food and drops of water just to keep going. Both my parents were taken by a sickness I’ve never fully understood. I was only thirteen when I first felt the pull of something more. The harsh realities of life in the streets led me to an interest in two things: mercenary work and construction."
"Now, years later, I spend my days pushing my body beyond its limits, scraping by in a world that shows little mercy. But even in the relentless grind of survival, there’s something in me that stirs—a longing for adventure, for a life more than mere existence. A part of me dreams of writing my name into the future, to have it echo in tales of heroism. Perhaps it’s foolish, but it’s a fire I can’t ignore."
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