SimpleDivvel

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?)) Divvel takes a seat. he has already deemed the old hag to be no threat, even if she was a witch. "I am simply a man on a journey around teh continent, taking... unusual jobs to earn money." The old hag smiled, and nodded slightly as if to gesture that she understood. "I grew up in a small town to the west. My father was a soldier and mother worked in an apothacary. From a young age, I was taught both about plants and herbs, and also a bit about swordsmanship." "So your adept with a sword I take it?" the old hag asked as she leaned in slightly. "Not exactly", Divvel responded. "I am definitely better than the average person, however, I am no swordsmaster. My father would teach me to use many weapons, so I have not mastered any. I am a jack of all trades, for weapons of course." The hag leaned back and motioned Divvel to continue his story. "When I was 14, my father was conscripted to fight in the Lord's war. We never saw him again. I began to train even harder by myself to not let my father down. I did this for 3 years. When I was 17, both my mother and I agreed to let me go on a journey around the continent. In secret, she had begun saving money and had accumulated a decent amount." Divvel reached into his pocket and produced a handmade bag, the size of his palm. He gave it to the old hag who inspected it, and gave it back. "At 17, I set off. I travelled east, from town to town. However, I quickly realised that these funds would not be enough. I began taking jobs to raise money. I would take anything, from proteting people, gathering herbs or even, regrettably, murder" As Divvel mentioned this, he looked a bit ashamed. Disappointed in himself. "I would take the money from the job and use it to travel to the next town, where I would repeat this process. Eventually however, I heard rumours of someone asking of me by name. Naturally, I was curious and came to see who, but it turned out to be an old woman." Divvel chuckled lighty to himself and the old hag joined him. "Is that what you really think?" the hag asked. "Are you not an old woman?" Divvel countered. "Very well", the hag said, "I shall give you this." The hag handed a pale white make to Divvel. "Wear this, as a gift from me to you". Divvel took the mask gratefully. He had always respected people who were older than him. After this, the hag beckoned him to leave, and so Divvel, with his new mask equipped, left the tent to return to his journey.

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?)) I was born in a small town on the west coast of the continent. I was raised by a loving mother and father. My father was a soldier and my mother an apothocary assistant. At the age of 14, my father was drafted to fight in a war for our lord. We never saw him again. at age 17, I decided to leave my hometown to explore the continent. My mother was also keen on the idea and gave me some starting funds. I travelled east, going from town to town. within a few weeks, I realised my meager funds would not be nearly enough. I had to work. I took whatever work I could. due to my parents, I had some knowledge of herbs and some basic skills with a sword. It was during these jobs that I avoided death and obtained my scars. Since I had to take whatever job I could, I would often take dirty jobs. This more often than not involved killing someone, and because of that, I chose to wear a mask so no one could see my face. That's how it was. I would go to a town, do some jobs and save money, then move to the next town. I did this for around 5 years. Then I heard a rumour about someone asking for me by name. I was curious, so I decided to find out who it was. And that brought me here, to you.

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?)) I was born in a small town between Marna and Sutica. My father was a soldier and my mother was an assistant to the town apothocary. As a result, I have some basic knowledge on herbs and am better than average with a sword. One day when i was 14, my father was called upon by the local Lord to fight a battle. He never made it back. My mother and I were left by ourselves. 3 years later, I left home to travel around the world. My mother also wanted me to see the world, so leaving wasn't too sad. I travelled east, and visited many towns, but also had my fair share of near fatal enounters. Hence my scars. I realised early on that I didn't have nearly enough money, so I began taking on small mercenary or protection jobs. After I completed my last job, I heard about someone asking about me by name. So I came here. And here I am.