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.”
Boghat steps into the tattered tent, his massive frame barely fitting through the entrance. He glances around at the candles suspended in the air, his eyes narrowing as he takes in the old hag sitting at the back of the tent. He approaches her cautiously and sits on the cushion, his armor clanking loudly as he moves. "Ug," he says gruffly, rubbing his forehead with the back of his large hand.
"I was once a wolf tamer," he begins, speaking in an orcish accent. "Training wolves to fight in battles. But one day, my wolves turned on me... a member of my clan was hurt. I was forced to leave wolf taming behind... as well as my people. Banished. I had to seek a new path. That is why I've come to this dingy town."
The old hag nods, studying Boghat's face intently. "I see," she says. "And what is it that you hope to find here?"
Boghat hesitates for a moment, then shrugs. "I am not sure. A new purpose, perhaps. A place to call home. A chance to start over."
