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?))
*He'd adjust his seat, leaning his head on his two folded hands- ready for a long story* I was just a poor farmer’s son, a twin, with Raon. Nonidentical. scraping by in a forgotten village in the Kingdom of Numemdil. Life was simple, but hard. nothing but endless toil in the fields, watching the seasons shift and praying for a better tomorrow that never seemed to come. *He'd look pensive, as if remembering the times he'd spent back then* Then one day, word spread of riches to be had, of wars to be fought and plunder to be claimed. Mercenaries, men with swords for hire, who lived off the spoils of battle. I thought to myself, This is my chance. *His eyes would glimmer with faint regret as he takes a small sip of his ale, with a small pause* Escaping the life of dirt and sweat, so I left. *He'd acknowledge with a brief nod to the man* I packed what little I had and set out for the first mercenary band I could find, eager for glory and gold. I joined up with a group of sellswords who’d been raiding the lands of Haense, fighting under a banner with no real loyalty, only the promise of coin. I didn’t care about the politics, or the kingdoms, or the cause. All I cared about was survival and getting rich." *He'd say with a stern face, as if serious, but still making a light comment of his life*
At first, it was everything I’d hoped for. We raided towns, fought in skirmishes, and I learned the art of war quickly. I tasted the blood and smoke of battle, and though the fear was always there, I also felt alive in a way I never had back home. I made a name for myself among the men.
*He'd then shrug, preparing to make a quick summary of the rest of the story*
I left the army, weary of the endless fighting, the bloodshed, the hollow promises. Alongside my brother Raon, my twin, we left the life as fast as we joined- having seen the truth of it.
I came to this swampy town, hoping to find something to fill the void. Maybe some work, maybe some gold. Or maybe just peace. Anything but the endless slaughter of mercenary forces, dying properly untrained in combat. Reaching the age of 19 i bid it all farewell, my late teens spent far too much on the field of battle." *He'd take a final swig of his ale, patting his belly* "Good Ale."
Recommended Comments