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?))
"Why thank you ma'am I apologize for my late arrival" I sit down, attempting to get used to the smell of rotted wood "For my story, I am but a humble mercenary. Killing shit for money and whatnot. Had a hard childhood. But I've made life easy for myself. stuff isn't to hard when I'm making my own money on my own time." I finally get comfortable in with the tents air "If you are wanting specifics, I was born to a small family, only child you see. We weren't rich in the slightest I must say. We made due with what we had, though the food I have had recently definitely beats what I received back home. My family worked on some farm out in the country, main product was wheat. Sadly they died out there one day when I was about nineteen or so. Murder or something of the like, details are a little foggy. After that I went out for revenge. I got picked up by an old man by the name of Frank, shifty guy he was, dealt with the wrong people. He taught me how to use my sword" I pull my rapier a tad bit out of it's sheath, showing it off "He also taught me how to be more charismatic, needless to say its much easier to get more money off people if you have a way with words." I begin to chuckle a bit "Well, that and if you can do the job correctly at least. Though, I believe that's all I can tell ya." I sigh "Once again, smaller details are really foggy, though I can thank whatever god that exists that I can remember all the important bits"
