(I had an old account on a different email, but I cannot access the login information or use that account anymore.)
Garreth hails from the outskirts of the Commonwealth of Petra. Tired of the quiet life of a laborer, he took up his father's old rusted steel blade and a worn traveling pack. He set out toward the heart of the realm with a singular vision: gathering like-minded 'small-folk' to form an adventurers guild that values hard work and grit over noble titles and ancient bloodlines.
However, the road was far less kind than the stories suggested. Along the way, Garreth was plagued with troubles; first, his father’s blade grew dull and chipped from use, and then his meager savings were stolen by a group of roadside bandits while he slept. Even his trusty leather shoes, which had lasted him for over two years of farm work, finally wore through to the soles. Despite the blisters and the hunger, Garreth refused to turn back.
He eventually reached the bustling trade routes, surviving on odd jobs and the kindness of strangers. Now, with a sharpened resolve and a plan in his head, he seeks a city where he can find his first partner. He knows that his dream of a adventurers guildhall is miles away, but as long as he has his life and his ambition, he believes the "small-folk" can finally make a name for themselves in Aevos.
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?”
((How does your character respond? Please ensure your response is at least six sentences long, and uses at least two actions.))
"The name is Garreth," *he says, his voice carrying the exhaustion of the road. Garreth looks around at the shack's dim interior, his eyes lingering on the strange floating candles.* "I came from the Commonwealth of Petra in the hopes of making an adventurers guild, but my journey so far hasn't been the kindest on me," *he admits with a weary nod. Garreth sighs and messes with the leather wrap on his sword's hilt, feeling the notches in the worn wood.* "I don't have much to my name so far, but I believe that with enough endurance, I'll be able to make something of myself here. I've walked through blisters and bandits to get this far, and I don't plan on stopping now." *Garreth looks at the hag with a curious squint.* "And who may you be, sitting here in the dark?"
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