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.”
Konstantin walks in, chested puffed, with an unsure look in his eye. "The name is Konstantin, I grew up a bastard, left unwanted by my mother to an orphanage. As a hard working child at such a place you get noticed very quickly and i was soon taken by the infamous Zhvikov Family. After many years of learning to do their bidding it was time for me to find my own path." As he struts towards the hag his confidence returns to him and a smile begins to crawl across his mouth, his platinum tooth catching the candle light. "I've come to this place from far lands in search of power and new beginnings." He reaches the old woman and crouches before her, one hand resting on his knee, the other on the knife on his waist. "Now if you would kindly point me in the direction of where i might find such."
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