VodkaTrackpant

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?)) "Hmph," the cave dwarf made his way to the cushion he'd been gestured towards, his eyes concentrated upon the hag a distant and annoyed look within his dirt brown eyes, "course you've been expecting me." The cave dwarf's voice had an accent (Similar to a Glaswegian accent) thick as his beard and the calluses that lined his wrinkly flesh. His voice was deep and rough, rocky like his homeland. The dwarf stank of pipe tobacco, ale, dirt, sweat, and musk. "My name is Bokordromli Bonefeet, and I am a cave dwarf. Though I'm sure you'll be knowin' that," Bokordromli scratched his dark ginger beard which was large and bulky as his muscles, "I've come out from me home in search of work. You see I am a dwarf of many crafts from smithing, mining, and building. Matter of fact, by the looks of the poor condition of this airy humid hell-hole you call a town you could use the craftsmanship of one such as I, if you've the coin." Bokordromli's voice was hard and sturdy as stone his dwarven pride showing via his distant gaze and each with each word that left his mouth.

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 swamp?" 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?)) The old wizard gave the hag a look, and within his saphire eyes, should she be so perceptive as to notice, there'd been a look of curiousity beneath the glaze of neutrality. "Expecting me?" The old wizard inquired in a voice aged as his wrinkly face as he leaned against his staff so that it may help him stand, "I do not recall sending word of my arrival to any of this region." The old wizard began to twist some stray hairs upon his long white beard as he awaited a response. "You did not. However, wizard, you of all should know I've eyes and ears amongst the buzzing swamps," The old hag cackled. Her lips churned into a smile revealing yellow teeth rotted as the wooden shacks and cabins the old wizard passed before entering the tent. Within her voice had been a hint of hostility, and with breath that smelled just as unwelcoming to one's senses. "Hm," the old wizard would move forwards towards the cushion he had been previously gestured towards, with each of his steps came the tap of his wooden staff against the wood-board floor. He took himself a seat having to rely on his staff to help push himself back into a comfortable position upon the cushion, "You had asked for my story, yes?" "Yes, and generous am I to even allow you such opportunity." The hag responded sharply, "When the mosquitos first buzzed of a wizard within my swamps I could hardly believe it. At first thought I'd wanted nothing more than to quickly dispose of you as I have many others. However, I wondered just what kind of wizard was foolish to enter my swamps even after my announced disliking for visitors?" The old wizard nodded, stroking his beard, "I am Xoldor, Xoldor Aleister of nowhere. I have come to you, hag, for scholarly matters. You see I have keen interest in the arcanic world and its secrets. And you, hag, as I understand, have found within your posession something that may prove a window into the world of the arcanic arts." "Window into the arcane? I have no such thing that could possibly-" the hag's voice froze as a thought seemed to come to her, "That is unless, possibly, you're here for it." The hag would lean forwards her glassy and almost lifeless pale eyes narrowing down upon Xoldor's visage, "If it is as you say it is then why should I allow you to even peer into it? Give me good reason I should not simply kill you here and now; at least that way I gain two things: a window into the arcane, and ingredients for my concotions." "Do not be so hasty, hag," Xoldor would pull a smoking pipe from his robe, placing into it some leaf before lighting it with a flame upon his finger tip taking a puff before he would further speak, "I doubt you'd manage to so much as get it to glow. I, on the other hand, contain within my mind knowledge that could yet open this window I speak of, if given the chance. So why don't we make a deal?" "A deal?" The old hag would cackle, leaning back her gaze retreating as she seemed to think for a moment, "Very well! How about this?! I will allow you to perform whatever you must to appraise it and if possible open a window at which point you too would share with me the view. However, should you fail to do so, you will return it to me and forfeit your mind to me so that I may pluck from it whatever I wish." The hag spoke with a crooked smile as she rubbed her hands together excitement in her voice. "I can agree to such terms, if I may add one more thing," Xoldor took a puff from his pipe, "You cannot act in anyway to interfere or sabotage my studies; not you or anything else purposely. If such an agreement is broken then you will be forced to let me go with it in my possession." "Hm," The hag gave Xoldor's proposal thought for a moment, frowning as she responded, "Very well, I can agree to these terms. Shall we write up a contract?" "Yes, a contract shall do finely," Xoldor nodded with a smile, taking a final puff from his pipe before ashing it out and slipping it back away within its place inside his robe.

The boat had finally arrived, as the men on board all came running to the side as the large boat gently nudged towards the dock. The knight had been sitting on deck not having been to acquainted with sea travel they found it hard to sleep. They had spent that knight looking into the many waves within the ocean staring to the reflection of the many stars above. The knight could not help but feel as though the stars had been many eyes used by the Gods as they looked down to the knight, and whether their gaze was one of pity or one of amusement would go to be unknown as many other things had been in this mysterious world. The knight got up heaving themselves upwards with their zweihander resting it upon their right pauldron as they patiently awaited their turn to exit the boat. The knight had been far from home, and even though their visor's horizontal slit could not see them all he knew many stared to him. It was not often a knight would travel by sea, and to make matters worse this knight had been crestless thus many were weary of just where this knight could have been from. They world heavy armor as many knights did with a thick plated helmet with a visor covering their face, and the only place the knight could see out of was a single horizontal slit in the visor perfectly aligned with their eye. Finally as everyone else left the boat the knight felt comfortable enough to leave hoping for no more prying eyes, for even with all this armor the knight still felt the sting of words and the chill of gazes. However, to the knight's surprise there had been a man, a well dressed one at that, awaiting them at the dock as they said to him "Welcome!" He began. "What brings you to this lovely city? Adventure? Wealth? Or some grand aspirations to elevate your place in society?" The knight would look to the man unsure if they were speaking to them at first as they kept their head hung. It was often the knight went unaddressed as many avoided them upon seeing their crestless pauldrons. They carefully looked around having to be quite thorough as they slit in their visor did not make it quite easy for them to see. Once they had realized the man was speaking to them the knight would finally respond, "I seek one untainted by wickedness, one to serve." The knight's voice though softened as they spoke in a hushed tone could still not suppress the warrior's voice they had. It was deep and powerful, and it seemed to demand respect as it rumbled into the ears close enough to hear it. Despite this void the knight had been rather melancholy, slightly bowing to the man who greeted him before taking their silent leave. The knight looked towards the grand fortress before them hoping within it perhaps there would be the one that they seeked, one worthy of serving, and should there be another one of the wicked sort the knight would have to restore order by crimson once more. Thus it was with nothing but their zweihander and their flames of ambition as company the knight set off to explore this unfamiliar place with hope they hoped would prove to be fruitful.