Seiyuu13542

((OOPS I thought I had to do the app again for another character. Uh... Ignore this plz-))

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?))

Tap tap tap. The sound of a coin bouncing against the table seems to fill the silence between the two people. The young elf mix stares at the hag for a moment before grinning a little, a malcious look in his emerald green eyes.

"Then you should know why I'm here, old hag. My group and I want everything."

Born in the forest, the elf had always thought of himself as superior. Why? Well, maybe it started with his parents feeding his ego. And then he seemed to have the charisma to attract others of his type to his side. Books? Knowledge? Power? Sure, he could attain it if he tried. He had long mastered the bow like others of his kind, and one could say his blade skills, while still growing, were more than enough. But why should he focus on such mundane things when he felt that he was already the best. In fact, he proved it, he felt. The day that Sariel brought the head of his father to his mother; the same day that he was banished from his town.

But under free reign, the elf got worse. 

The Wretched Eagles. That's what they called themselves. That's what Sariel decided the name would be after he gave the others the choice to join him. There was no real goal. Just twisted desire to steal and take for their own selfish reasons. And such was the same for the others who banded underneath the young elf for their own reasons. What they saw in the undisciplined child was anybody's guess. 

"I don't need what you have. I'm just going to take it. Not because I deserve it. Or because you don't. But because I want it. And we're bandits. We don't pay. We don't buy. We take what we want, when we want it. Hag, you have two choices now. Hand it over or hand it over with your blood spilled." 

He stabbed his knife down on the table, standing up with that malicious grin. Shadows of others started to gather behind him. Shadows of the other Wretched Eagles. And so the rest is history, as are the items they pillaged and carried with them as they left to find other victims.