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?)) Favian Lockhart looks at the hag seriously with his one eye and with his sword ready at the belt to strike if the hag tries anything. Favian looks around in the tent for a while, being suspicious at the hag at first but then decide to sit down. " My story? ", Favian takes a drink from his canteen, " Me and my fellow soldiers were mercenaries and took jobs all around where we could find them, mostly hunting criminals and such, well of course always there comes a time that job doesnt end well, and that happened with the last job. We were hunting this orc in the forest when suddenly arrow took down one of my friends and surprise attack came from the woods, we fight the orcs bravely but in the end the battle took price of my mercenary group and my left eye, only i left to tell the tale about the attack.
