xX_OMENXx

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.” Yazmaeth entered the tattered tent, holding his hammer tightly. He listened to the old hag and sat down on the cushion, "I'm here from the mountains of Urguan in search of becoming the greatest blacksmith." He laughs loudly and smiles. "As for my story it has yet to be fully written but it starts with my dream when I was but a young dwarf to one day forge the greatest weapons, amour, even cannons ever known. For as long as I can remember from the moment I picked up my first hammer that was my dream. The other dwarfs called me a fool!!!" Many before him had tried but failed to be the greatest blacksmith the dwarfs had ever seen, "Even my own parents laughed at me and told me to just be a normal dwarf and only build…" His face saddens at the thought of them laughing at him. “But enough of that now my dream still burns bright. Thank you for listening to my beginnings.” He then tells the hag in a very dashing pose with chest up and his head held up high. “And my name is Yazmaeth, don't forget it.” He walks off into the unknown to achieve his dream.