Darian Velthor was born in Norland to parents he never knew. He was left at an orphanage as a baby and grew up with many other kids that suffered the same fate as him. years go by and Darian feels like he is wasting his life here, he seeks adventure, glory and companions he could call his family but that never happens until he turns 20. he gets too old for the orphanage and they kick him out to the streets. He survives by stealing, working small jobs and begging until he gets fed up with this life of his and makes a change. at 22 he saves enough money for a suit of armor and a short sword and he starts going on small adventures away from Norland but always comes back. now he is 23 looking for adventure and glory and is waiting for the right people to be his companions and maybe just maybe that day is close.
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?”
Darian Velthor sits down, his armor clinking softly, and rests his hands on his knees. “I don’t really come from anywhere special,” he says quietly. He looks off for a moment, then back at her. The silence between them feels heavy but not uncomfortable. “I just… want to see the world, I think.” “Figure out where I belong in it.”
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