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.”
Lefwin straightens his jacket and clears his throat with an exaggerated flourish. “Well, well, my dear lady—so my reputation has raced ahead of me? I knew fame was quick on its feet, but this is impressive!”
He flashes a bright, easy smile as he drops onto the cushion, folding his legs with the grace of someone entirely at home, even in a tattered tent lit by floating candles.
“My name, as you so astutely guessed, is Lefwin Williams! Adventurer, seeker of wonder, soon-to-be legend! I’ve set my sights on cities of gold, hidden temples, or anything fate will throw at me!”
A warm laugh follows, light and unforced, his blue eyes gleaming as he meets the hag’s gaze.
“Before all this? Nothing fancy, my parents are simple, loving folk—father a blacksmith, mother a simple housewife. Thanks to them I’ve got a hand for the forge, an eye for perfection in my craft, and a restless spirit that refuses to sit still. The world is far too wide and strange to be wasted behind workshop walls.”
He leans forward slightly, grin widening. “So here I am, ready for whatever tale fate’s about to write me into.”
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