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?))
Nalinor clears his throat before taking the seat presented to him by the hag. "Well to be honest with you, I feel as though my story is only just beginning. I primarily lived most of my youth in the wilds outside of Arcas, hunting and fishing with my mother and father. One fateful trip, we encountered a wild beast...." His voice goes quiet as a disturbed look crosses his face. "I was still young, 14 or 15 it's hard to remember, and the beast was something I had never encountered before. All I can recall is the fear I felt gazing into its cold, unfeeling eyes and my parents screaming at me to run. Almost as if independent from the rest of my body, my legs ran faster than they ever had before. I can still hear the sounds of their screams and the roar of the beast when I close my eyes at night. The people of Arcas saw a scared young boy and took me in for the night. The next morning the only sign my parents had ever been there was their blood on the ground and the sword my father always wielded." Nalinor's hand runs over a blade sheathed at his side. "As the years passed I spent countless hours trying to track and hunt the beast that took them from me. I am willing to travel to the ends of this world to find it, and bring my parents some peace in the afterlife."
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