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.”
In front of her stands a young Dark Elf, looking like someone who has not yet been touched by the troubles of this world. Zagan freezes for half a breath when the hag looks up at him. Her voice scrapes against the dim air. His stomach knots “gods, why does it have to start like this?” he thinks. He forces a grin anyway, lifting his chin as if he walked in here on purpose.
“You’ve been expecting me?” he repeats, trying to hide the crack in his voice. “O–Of course you have.”
He steps toward the cushion. His boots squish in the damp fabric, but he sits, pretending he did it with confidence and not because his legs suddenly felt shaky.
He clears his throat and puts on a smirk he doesn’t fully believe in.
“My story, huh? Well… I’m Zagan Valeroth. I left home to make my name known. My life at home was simple and blunt. Growing up in a small village, preaching and listening to the elders, hiding from the troubles of this world. I’m done with that. I want to live my own life, write my own story, see the world… serve someone or be served."
He shrugs lightly, trying to look casual. Then he stands, looking upward, spreading his arms as confidence suddenly pours into his voice.
“I just want the world to remember me. To know I existed. That I mattered. And when my bones are ashes, they will still say the name Zagan Valeroth. Doesn’t matter if people sing about me as a hero or whisper about me as a villain.”
He forces himself to meet her eyes, even though something in her stare makes his spine crawl. Slowly, he sits down again and nervously glances at her.
“And, uh… don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t come here because I was lost or anything. Even if the swamp did sort of look the same in every direction.”
He swallows and straightens his back, trying again for bravery.
“So… if you’ve been expecting me, then maybe you know how someone like me starts becoming someone.”
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