MagnificNote

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?)) He'd look at her with an eyebrow raised and say, "Well, I've never seen you in my life. Guess I missed out. Haha..." He'd look at her after sitting down and finishing his little laugh. "That, er, uh was a joke." He said awkwardly. "But well, ya want the story of the fantastic sling master Kreothimus? Well, I'll tell it to ya." He said with a tone of anticipation. "It was a dark and stormy night... A handsome highlander youngin' was with his father on business sellin' crops to the market when one of those tall, long eared folks decided to blast him with a flippin fireball! Although it didn't kill me it did my dad." He quieted down as he mentioned his father. "And messed up 'ma knee real nasty!" He said showing off the scars on his knee as he'd begin to loaf around, looking at the details of the tent. "Quite the tent cha got here. Oh! Back on track. After some friendly dwarves found me, they fixed me up and brought me and my pa's body, may he rest in peace, back to my ma." He looked down at his lap with sympathetic eyes and a broken voice. "Man, was she heartbroken, and my big bro left not too long after on a boat, leavin' me to man the farm. Eventually after my ma passed and our land was taken, I started a little floral- I mean plant business with a little bit of dwarven help." He rubbed the back of his head as he pondered his next words. "After that failed, I started a new one. Now I'll do any non-murderous job as long as the pay fits the gig, and I won't be doin any magical crap." He paused attempting to think of more to say. "Ooh, hey I'll cutcha a deal, since ya listened lady, I'll fix up this place to be all neat and spiffy, and aa... How about with a ten percent discount?"

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?)) He looks at the hag with a look of confusion and says, "Unexpected," He pauses "but my name is Magnus Note I come from a long-gone kingdom as a nomad" He stops for a second to gather his thoughts. "I was created by a man who is no longer living named Adonai with the purpose of, in his own words "To become alive." which he said means to know thyself." He says plainly without a hitch. "So, I came here, hearing that this location has history relating to my creator. As a golem I should be expected to have much power, but I am of low physical strength, as I am made from shelves and as my head is a book. Which means I am not of much use in combat, outside of my swiftness and shot." He pauses. "Although, I am capable of learning and holding knowledge, and one of the things I am very capable of is understanding the minds of living beings." "Oh, my!" He stops in embarrassment, then he says, "I apologize for my ramblings, but that is my story." He says with a voice crack and ruffled pages.