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.”
"I hardly believe that, no one knows that i was coming. After all im the only one that left." Thaldar takes a seat on the cushion with a moody expression on his face. "Im merely looking for a second chance here hoping that maybe there still is a place here for someone like me." "Someone who has lost it all." With his hands to hes knees he stares through the ground beneath him back to the old times. "I was always told that dwarves that do their job good will be rewarded but after years of defending our home forging our weapons, I end up here an outcast not by choice but by necessity." "But that's not important not anymore.. it's about time i took my destiny in my own hands"
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