Yareal Poof

Alric Varoche was born in a modest village in the Holy Empire of Man. The son of a farmer and a seamstress. His upbringing was neither harsh nor particularly comfortable, simply ordinary. That changed when Alric was fourteen. A sickness came through the village. Alric fell ill and the fever lingered for days, leaving Alric in a state between dreaming and walking. In this state he felt not words or a voice but a still presence amidst the pain. Once Alric recovered he was not the same. He became intensely contemplative and withdrawn. He took to sitting alone in the village chapel and helping the clergy there however he could, cleaning, carrying water, and copying passages as best he could. He never entered the church, something in him was still hesitant. Once he came of age he determined that he needed answers and left his parents for the capital of the Empire.

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 steps in to the tent slightly ducking as he does so. "I'm a traveler, you could say." He remarks as he looks around the tent, before sitting down. "It has been a long journey, but I am going back home, towards my future." He glances at the opening to the tent, then looks back at the hag. "I ran form there at a young age, my life bored me I didn't want to become my father." He removes the hood of his cloak reveling his angular face, shoulder length blonde hair ,and blue eyes."I have spent enough time away form the prison I did not believe was my home is may lands and serving many men, on every side of the law imaginable." He says while looking of into space. "A thief, a spy, an advisor to lords, even a merchant. I received word that my father has died. I'm going back home to pay him respects, I have no more family now after all." He looks back at the hag with a mix of curiosity and determination. "You know me? I will have you tell me how, woman." Backstory: Dorian was born in the heartlands to a clerk and a his wife a maid. He ran away at the young age of 16 because he did not want to become just a clerk like his father, he wanted to see and experience the world. He spent his life doing many different kind of work for may different men, first as a rouge thief, then to get out of trouble a spy for a local lord, then as an advisor to that lord. He ran away from that life just like he did form his first now working for a traveling merchant. It was on his travels he overheard from a merchant he remembered his father working with as a child that his father had died. The merchant did not recognize him but he got the story. He than decided to set off for his home which he had not seen for 8 years. To pay respects to his father, see his home once more and as he has done so many times start over.