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?)) Puug shrugs his shoulders, setting his claymore next to him as he sits in front of the hag as he begins fiddling with an old crossbow on his belt as he speaks with a scratchy voice. "Well, I was hoping that I would find some work here, you know, every village these days has something that needs killing or bashing, but no-one wants to tell me anything. Though I guess that's not fair, not many people want to trust a goblin to kill something, especially if they call themselves a mercenary." He scratches his chin with a bolt for the crossbow, before switching to an old knife covered in grime as he begins cleaning it. "I promise you I can kill just as good as any Orc, my family be damned," he slams the knife down on the old wood floor, "they never really believed me when I said I would be a great warrior, my family I mean, but I know I can do more than just tinker with artillery. I wanted to be on the frontlines with the big Orcs and Ologs, to see the enemy cower in fear from my might. When I was old enough to join the warriors I was laughed off by the Orc captain, told me to go get reincarnated as a bigger Orc and I might just make the cut. I ran from the village that day, and I haven't gone back since. The first weeks were hard, but I managed though goblin ingenuity to scrape by in the wilderness, then I found this" He gestures the armor he's wearing, "must have belonged to some old knight left behind some many years ago, he had all but rotted from age. Though it didn't fit at first, a little fiddling with the chainmail and I had a serviceable piece of armor. His claymore was in perfect condition though, bar some rust that I cleaned off, I spent every day for a year training myself in this old armor with this old sword. Once during training I heard a massive roar and saw a massive shadow fly over the clearing I was in, looking up I swear to you a saw a massive dragon flying overhead. It left this behind," he points to the black and purple scale on his left shoulder "I think it was a sign that I was destined for more than just an average goblin, So I gathered my gear and headed out for the nearest town, and I've been taking jobs ever since. One day I'm gonna be a warlord, and my army is gonna strike fear into the hearts of every creature in Aaevos who dares look down on me ever again." Puug jumps up, and poses with the claymore, after a few seconds he huffs, then turns to leave, glancing back at the hag "thanks for listening to me, I think I really needed someone to talk to after taking on so many solo jobs." but the hag was gone, only the moss heard him now. "Heh, I really must be losing it, I gotta join a crew or something." he says as he trudges back into town, ready for whatever opportunities come next.
