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.”
He was startled by the sudden appearance of the old hag and the smell of rotted wood and wet moss, hesitating at first before going to respond:
"Not very much is known about my family history or lineage. My father was a humble miner and my mother worked on the farms. I was seventeen when I was enlisted to serve the United Kingdom of Aaun in defense against the Acreans, and served hesistantly in hopes of a brighter future for King and country. Whilst in pursuit of this I met the Lord Vandalore, a fellow Waldenian, and entered into his service as a retainer of sorts at Corwinsburg."
