Zhoron was born in a tree house in an oak forest in a dysfunctional family. he fell of a ladder when Zhoron was only 5. he was practically a potato after that. his mom did most of the work. even Tho there's was only Zhoron and his sis she practically had to deal with 3 kids because his dad couldn't do anything. he always felt a calling to explore and to harness the power of nature but was never able too one night a fire started after a candle was still lit and it toppled over. him and his mom escaped. but the others didnt make it out.
at the time he was 19 and ever since he set out to figure out his true calling.
The traveller has just arrived in a small town. As they look around, their gaze is met with run down houses and shops. They duck into one of the shacks, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the small room, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town?" She begins, then pauses to study their face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a chair, “Where do you come from? What do you hope to make of yourself?”
I stand there confused and tense. "wh-why who are you anyway?" The hag gives no response and gestures again to sit. I walk up and over to the seat, my hand is on my holster where my dagger lies. "What do you want" I grip my dagger tighter. "Answer my question" the hag grunts. I give the hag a stare before going to speak. "Ok well fine then, I am from a small oak forest up north I had to move out for- reasons." the hag sits there patiently. "And my other question?" The hag asks. "Oh, uhm well I want to become a noble traveler helping as I go maybe I'll settle down but not now my life for now is meant for the road." I say proudly, the old hag smirks.
"Very well then follow."
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