SteelChikorita

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.”

At first, Varrus was hesitant, wary even of the old lady's intentions. Why exactly did she want to hear of her tale? Though, she couldn't fault the crone, considering Varrus had barged into the tent without much consideration as to if it was occupied or not. "Well, I'll give you a tale, then. And its a pretty long one, too." She sat down on the cushion, though she left hunched over quite uncomfortably in the process. "Grew up in the far remote north, in a village in Norland. Father and mother were both hunters, no-nonsense and above everything wanted to make sure that I could survive on my own when it came time. Spent most of my childhood learning how to hunt and forage in the woods, how to fend against predators with all sorts of weapons, the whole nine yards. Of course he taught me all those basics of reading and writing, but his priority with me was survival knowledge." Varrus held a gleeful twinkle in her one eye. "I needed more, and I knew I wasn't going to get the game I wanted in my home village. So, I left home at eighteen and began living as a nomad. It was stupid, yes," She shrugged, "But I have no regrets. Even if that ignorance led to me getting attacked by a wolf only a month or two after starting my journey. I'd show you the scars from it, but they're not something the average person could stomach unwarned. Besides, I got the last laugh anyways." She gestured with one hand to her shoulder pelt and the skull that covered up most of her façade, with a wide grin full of teeth. "Since then, it's been me against the natural world. Best believe that if there's news of something rare and dangerous to hunt, I'll be right there in the wilderness waiting for it to show its ugly head."