Archerion23

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 take the seat across the the old hag, my guard is up in case there are any hunters or bounty hunters tracking me down, looking to bring me in for the large sum of gold and silver that is put on my head. I eye the old hag with curiosity, my actions careful to not make any movements with my left arm close to my knife, ready for any incoming attacks towards me. My face hidden with the help of my mask while my crimson eyes studies her actions. "I am looking for the talisman of Belphegor," I say cautiously. My voice quiet and steady, being careful with my words to not give away stray intent that will expose his true intentions. He leans in the crone, making sure to keep his voice quiet and low in case there are unknown ears listening in, "I need to know the location of the talisman, lady. I can pay you handsomely....if you can give me the information to the location of this talisman...." A rogue trained by a bounty hunter after his parents sold him into slavery. He started his training at an early age, training with a bow, the quarter staff, the way of the sword and the scythe, he grew up to become the rogue he is now. His father figure, the bounty hunter decides to set him off and make his name for himself, urging Archerion to go forth into the world of Aevos to make himself a name known to any man, woman, child and even those of non-human origins. Armed with a bow and quiver, a short sword, provisions, and his most valued weapon, the scythe, he sets forth into the world, determined to become a legend.