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.”
Lothar sits down. He starts talking.
"I was raised up north in Skarnhavn, my father died before i was born and my mother died during the raid of Hamorstrand"
"After it was clear that she was gone I was sent to an orpanage where i later was adopted into a band of merchants heading south. There a man named Aedan and his wife took me in as their own. Aedan was a hunter by profession and a Bard by hobby. He took it upon himself to teach me the sound of strings, both bow and Lute." The old woman nods in thought as Lothar continues.
"From there I had journeys all over the country and growing better with the strings and voice as the days passed. After a few years when i had seen more winters another memeber of the company taught me how to use a sword. Although I had much training I still prefer the bow over a blade." Lothar coughs a bit before he falls silent.
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