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?))
"My story?" Sull chuckles softly, flattered that all his adventuring has finally led him to gain some notoriety. "I have many tales for you," He sits down, slinging his sword around the back of the chair. "Tales of glory! That will make a dwarf jealous. A heart break that will make even the cold hearts of goblins shed a tear. But why a story about me." He pulls a pipe from his side bag, lighting it as he looks up and begins to recall his life.
"I was lucky to have parents who were honest and hard working. My dad was a retired knight, a blade for hire, and he decided to settle down with a hard working farm hand, my dear mother. He taught me sword combat, survival methods, and how to be a man. While my mom taught me to farm the land, and compassion. I wouldn't be anywhere near the man I am now without them.
I turned 18, and decided to enlist in the army. I was pretty successful. Top 10 of my class, although I was just looking for a easy life. Training, food, friends, and authority. But I dropped out. I felt trapped in this loop, and living a normal life is just not for me. There's a whole world out there! And I intend to carve the name Sull Kall into history. Remember my name, and while i'm here, is there anything to drink? God's I'm parched!"
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