Warden_Horns

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.”

He stood there quietly for one heartbeat, then two. His eyes slowly roamed over his surroundings, a quiet judgement being given in his look as they moved. Eventually, his eyes fell back upon the old hag, he would arch an eyebrow and shrug before sitting down on the cushion. His hand would pull back the worn hood from over his head, revealing a head of decently long brown hair. Some spilling just over his eyes. 

"Name is Nikolai. Appreciate your hospitality," his voice was quite rough, holding a gravely texture to it. "I've traveled far, at least it has seemed quite far. A bowman of the North, is what I was and am. I’ve walked forests and plains, some populated by many and some desolate apart from the wildlife that lived there. I've left my village behind in a pursuit of something that has called to me and had not said a word at all. Hunting and selling pelts throughout my travels have garnered me enough coins to survive."

A pause would interrupt his words as he pulled out a canteen, he'd allow his words to dissipate into the silence beyond as he took a swig of whatever was still inside of it. Sliding the canteen back into his leathers, he'd speak again. His eyes would not leave the old hag's person.

"Now, I've arrived here. And have question for you. Why have you been expecting me?" there is a layer of suspicion in his words, and a guarded look to the back of his gaze.