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?))
Helmbrudt gazed upon the woman's face, his light grey eyes meeting hers. "I come looking for a future." His voice is deep and rough, his mannerisms and tone suggest a life of brutality. He leaned forward and began diving into his past. "My life began like any other orc from my tribe, training for the day you become accepted as a true member of the tribe." He looked back into his memories with a sort of fondness, those were his only time of peace, when he was training for the big hunt. "The process was simple, the shaman graces you in front of the tribe, then he assigns you a task, usually being to hunt something bigger than yourself." That didn't always mean physically bigger than you, just something you had to overcome. "Except for me..." He looked down as he thought back, a certain feeling of shame coming over him. "I was never graced, instead I was cast out for reasons I still do not know." Helmbrudt looked up at the old hag, His eyes now filled with a certain determination, "But believe me, I will prove to everyone what kind of a mistake that was." He stood up, preparing himself to leave once more and continue his travels. "I will do whatever it takes to be recognized as a somebody in this world, I am not a nobody."
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