Xyper82

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?))

As he takes his place in front of the frail woman before him his posture holds rigid and formal "Thank you ma'am," as he speaks his muscles are tensed almost as though he was worried that the woman might launch at him even though she bore no signs of threat. "I come from a noble family, my mother's family, my father was a man of many talents and words, and my mother was a caring and intelligent. I didn't know them long as they sent me away to my distant uncle where I learned how to wield a blade instead of a quill. It was in that house hold that I met my brothers. Now, my eldest brother is looking for ground to practice his trade and the youngest looking to begin trading with those that would make use of his wares," As he dwelled on the aspirations of his "siblings" he began contemplating his own, and after a moment he spoke again. "And I am here to help them gain their success." As the elderly woman that sat before him questioned him further on his heritage he dismissed her saying, "What was once my family holds no value to me anymore. They tossed me and my brothers out after we refused to pick a side when they started bickering over my late uncles position and who would take on his seat at the head of the family's empire. So now we come to a new land. No wealth, no reputation, and no family seal to pledge our honor and loyalty to." The woman changed the topic to his mother and father and once again she found him dismissing the topic. "I never spoke with them after they sent me away, and I bear none of their gifts or traits. I am not intelligent nor charismatic. The only skills I posses are those thought to me by blood and steel. I only know what the family thought me. What made me useful to them. Though I suppose I have been told that I inherited my mothers love for books, even if I don't always understand what is written within them, and my fathers strong sense of loyalty and brother hood; and then my eyes of course." His green eyes reflecting the dance of the sparking fire that lay in front of him. A voice was then heard calling out to him from outside, beckoning him, "Well, with that I must bid you farewell. may the odds ever favor you ma'am." With that final farewell he turned and exited the tent into the shadowed night.