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.”
"You were expecting me?" Daniel says with a raised eyebrow, but when he sees her expression doesn't change and she still gestures for him to sit, he does, "Fine. I'm a mercenary from a distant village." He sighed sadly as he spoke more, "More appropriately, a village that no longer exists. I am last of my people." He sits back and rubs his face, "My village was a home of warriors, fishers, sailors, and hardy people. I was brought up with that blood and that knowledge. From a young age, I was trained with any weapon under the sun as my father, A former adventurer, wanted me to be able to fight with whatever I could get my hands on." Daniel then undoes the sheath on his belt and places it on the table, "This sword was gifted to me when I turned sixteen; however, it didn't help when the time came."
A deep sadness sweeps Daniels' face, and He stands up and looks away so the hag does not see the tears run down his face. "Plague or curse or some other bloody calamity swept through the land and killed everyone, rich and poor alike. It didn't spare anyone. I watched my father die." He pauses, thinking about what happened. Thinking about the faces, "I watched all of them die..." Daniel turns back to her now with my tears gone, "Whatever it was did not have an effect on me."
"So it was Mercy," Said the old hag.
He reaches over the table and grabs her cloak, "Mercy! No!" The mercenary lets her go and speaks with anger and rage, "It is not a mercy to watch your friends, your family, everything you love die. It is hell! It is a curse." Tears start to run down his face again, "And now I wander." He stands up and picks up his sword, and attaches it back to his belt, "I wonder why I live." He turns his back to her and starts walking away, "I carry a worldly burden."
She speaks up, "So who are you then?"
He stops at the flap of the tent and looks back at her one last time, "I am the Wandering Prince."
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