TheShadowMatrix

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.”

((How do you respond?))

The metal clad giant of a human sat down in a manner less than graceful. He recoiled at the smell permeating throughout the area, a visual reaction not quite aided by the visage of the hag, "Whats this then, my story?" Robert let out a hearty and infectious laugh, "Can't lie to you mum- you're not really my type." The corners of his mouth turned up at his response- watching the woman, but before he'd allow a look of disgust to spread across her features, he held out his hands, "Don't get yer knickers in a twist- I'm ******* with you. Alright, alright alright-" He sniffed, shifting his position somewhat as an arm idly moved back behind him to press against the ground, the other arm moving above the ground to perform hand gestures as he spoke, "I'm what you may call, a wanderer. Nothing so classy as a knight, nor one of those little shits we know as nobility. As simple as one can get." His shoulders rose, then slumped down, followed by a sigh, "Though- I don't want to remain as a wanderer. I think its about time I settle down in a place, create my story, create my legend." His hovering arm twisted- turning to point and then tap at a symbol embroidered on few spots of the poor quality cloth he wore, a symbol of a Stag, "Ensure my legacy. Maybe I'll fail, maybe I'll succeed, but only a half wit takes solace in complacency, and I, am not complacent. To start though..." He spoke as he rose, regarding the hag with a sharp gaze, "I think I'll settle for some directions."