I was born in the frost-bitten peaks of a harsh and unforgiving northern realm, raised by a reclusive clan of survivalists who valued strength above all else. My parents were legendary hunters within the tribe, teaching me from an early age how to track prey through blinding blizzards and defend our borders from wandering monsters. Growing up in such an unforgiving, frozen environment forged my resilient nature, but it also left me feeling deeply isolated from the rest of the world. The turning point in my life came when a catastrophic rift, heavily tied to the ancient lore of these lands, opened near my village and unleashed corrupted beasts that completely fractured my community. Following the destruction of my home and the scattering of my remaining family, I chose to leave the icy mountains behind rather than rebuild in the ruins. Now, I roam the broader realms as a wandering mercenary, constantly searching for answers about the strange magic that tore my old life apart.
"I didn't realize my reputation preceded me in a place quite this isolated," I reply, my voice calm despite the sudden tension in the room. I slowly pull back my hood, letting my messy, obsidian-black hair fall into place as my ice-blue eyes adjust to the floating candlelight. Instead of taking the seat immediately, I unbuckle my utility belt and rest my hands flat on the wooden table, deliberately keeping my sheathed netherite sword within easy reach. "I come from the frozen north, from a place that no longer exists thanks to the rifts tearing through our world," I say, looking the old hag dead in the eye. I finally pull out the rickety chair, the wood scraping loudly against the floorboards as I sit down and lean forward. "As for what I hope to make of myself, I’m not looking for glory; I’m looking for the source of the corruption that destroyed my home, and I have a feeling a town this dingy is exactly where the secrets like to hide."
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