Meeseherd

Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?)) Example: (delete this) The Orc strides up gregariously and sits down on the cushion with a mighty slam! "Sure Elder lady, want an Oyster?" The Orc reaches into the sack in his hands and produces a fresh oyster, cracking it open and passing it to the Old Hag with a tusky smile. "Always important to feed your elders." He chirped, before rubbing his chin with consideration. "Well it all began with the sea. Momma taught me how to dive, like her pops did before her, and his before him." The Orc cracks open his own oyster and slurps up the contents. "Been livin off the sea for me whole life. Water is good eatin, good livin." He smiles happily. Eating his Oysters with a grin. "But the land's gettin dangerous these days, bad beasties, bad guys. Not right." The Orc says gravely. Cracking open another shell in his powerful hands. "So I'm travelin, Crackin a few skulls on the bad'uns. Sellin a few Oysters. Fightin the bad. Carve the way." The Orc nods firmly. "Like Krug intended." The orc stands then leaving the bag of oysters for the old lady. "Eat on up Elder Lady, bad times a comin." The orc strides toward the door, ducking down to dodge the low door frame. "And you ain't built tough like me." The Orc strides off into the night whistling a carefree tune, thinking on if swamp crab tasted just as good as sea crab.

Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?)) Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?)) The squat figure looks up at the elder Crone and responds in a surly, surprisingly feminine voice. "Who starts a conversation like that?" she grumbles, arms crossed, featureless helmet somehow still managing to convey her annoyance. "How about starting a conversation properly? Give me an offer" Confusion flashes across the old woman's face "A what?" "An offer Hag, how much is my story worth to you, I don't treat with beggars." The old woman lets out a small noise of understanding before proceeding. "How about this, indulge an old woman's curiosity and you will have a hearth and meal this evening" The old Woman studies the Dwarf as they consider their answer, and her eyes widen slightly when she notices it. This dwarf is faking a beard, what first appeared to be a beard, on close inspection is a set of long thick braids pulled to the front of the face to simulate a beard. The dwarf pauses in their consideration ceasing their stroking of their long faux beard. " The meal must come with ale, not watered down, and meat. Beef or pork should make up at least two-thirds of the meal. My room must also be private, I have no desire to share a bunk with strangers." The old woman lets a dry smile cross her face at that. "That is an acceptable agreement to me, Ma'am, but I would like my payment immediately." She punctuates the statement by gesturing to the bar, a stool already pulled out in preparation for a guest. The Dwarf woman sticks out her hand for a shake and the old woman meets her, their arms clasp. The Dwarf woman lets out a solemn prayer "Grimdugan look upon me for my deal is struck." "Where do you wish me to begin woman? The dwarf woman asks, The Old woman snaps her fingers causing a bar to appear before her and begins fishing for a mug. "How about your name? Mine is Agatha." The Dwarf steps a back suddenly, startled by the blatant display of magic, before carrying on with her introduction after clearing what was nearly a scream from her throat. "Gudrun Boulderhorn, Daughter of Bori and Gena Boulderhorn" A noise of happiness comes unbidden from Gudrun when she sees the old woman turn around and begin to fill a metal tankard with golden ale. The old woman spins around and with practiced ease slides the tankard down the conjured bar toward Gudrun, the tankard stopping perfectly in in front of the dwarf. "What brings you to these parts Gudrun?" " What brings me here?" Gudrun lets out a small snort. "My birth, I was born a day's carriage from here on a cattle farm. Can't get out of "here" fast enough." "Why the desire to leave?" Agatha inquires a small sparkle in her eye. "It's a Travesty, dwedmar shouldn't live under the sky, herding sodding cattle." Gudrun lets out an angry grumble before continuing "Damn tree thumpers, wanted me to carry on their stupid traditions and take over the farm. I told them to pound manure" "Tree thumpers... Wait your parents?" Agatha looks aghast at the disrespect. "Nah my Grandsires, my parents know me well enough to know I would burn down that farm before I would take it over." Agatha gives a small nod still obviously uncomfortable with the open disrespect the woman in front of her was showing her elders. "What do you plan to do once you leave?" Agatha inquires. "I plan to earn my way as Grimdugan intended, with pick or axe, perhaps both" Gudrun lets out a brutal grunt laugh at that before continuing with a smirk. "And with Greed in my Heart." Agatha nods along, letting neither approval nor disapproval show on her face regarding Gudrun's statement. "and how about the armour? It's rather interesting" Agatha gestures at the Gudrun's body. Heavy metal plates coat it painted red, lined with gold or at least lined with something painted gold. Her heavy metal mask serving to hide her features. Gudrun lets out a loud laugh at that. "You can call it how you see it woman, you are wondering why I cover my face." Gudrun moves to remove her helmet, reaching under her chin to unclip a clasp hidden beneath her hair. She takes the helmet with both hands and lifts. A sheep, that's the first thought that enters Agatha's mind, she looks like a sheep. A soft olive-coloured face, a round slightly upturned nose, framed by two shorter braids coming down just below her chin, her eyes are an amber colour like an autumn leaf, flecked with spots of gold. Gudrun takes a long draft of her beer, one gulp turns to two, three, then four as she downs the whole tankard in one draft. "I covered it up so that my sun-cursed forest kin don't expect me to be like them." There is a sneer on her face, but Agatha can also see the parts that are normally hidden. There is an old pain there. Agatha nods once considering before giving the Dwarf woman a soft look. "It hurts when you don't fit, it chafes at the soul" Gudrun's eyes flash first with sadness then, with burning indignation. Sputtering excuses flying from her lips, curses, insults, threats. Agatha had never met a less threatening woman in her life. By the time Gudrun stops to take a breath, she nearly choked when she notices three steaming cuts of pork bell laid across her plate, graciously slathered in a brown gravy, caramelized onions and mushrooms. "Dig in dear, you have shared all I need" Agatha looks appraisingly as Gudrun's eyes flicker with indecision, it's obvious her pride wants her to storm out to rage and scream and curse but... Her Greed wins out. Gudrun digs into the pork belly with a gusto surpassing the beast that now adorns her plate. Agatha gives Gudrun a matronly smile before beginning work on a second plate.

Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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?)) The squat figure looks up at the elder Crone and responds in a surly, surprisingly feminine voice. "Who starts a conversation like that?" she grumbles, arms crossed, featureless helmet somehow still managing to convey her annoyance. "How about starting a conversation properly? Give me an offer" Confusion flashes across the old woman's face "A what?" "An offer Hag, how much is my story worth to you, I don't treat with beggars." The old woman lets out a small noise of understanding before proceeding. "How about this, indulge an old woman's curiosity and you will have a hearth and meal this evening" The old Woman studies the Dwarf as they consider their answer, and her eyes widen slightly when she notices it. This dwarf is faking a beard, what first appeared to be a beard, on close inspection is a set of long thick braids pulled to the front of the face to simulate a beard. The dwarf pauses in their consideration ceasing their stroking of their long faux beard. " The meal must come with ale, not watered down, and meat. Beef or pork should make up at least two-thirds of the meal. My room must also be private, I have no desire to share a bunk with strangers." The old woman lets a dry smile cross her face at that. "That is an acceptable agreement to me, Ma'am, but I would like my payment immediately." She punctuates the statement by gesturing to the bar, a stool already pulled out in preparation for a guest. The Dwarf woman sticks out her hand for a shake and the old woman meets her, their arms clasp. The Dwarf woman lets out a solemn prayer "Grimdugan look upon me for my deal is struck." "Where do you wish me to begin woman? The dwarf woman asks, The Old woman slips behind the bar and begins fishing for a mug. "How about your name? Mine is Agatha." "Gudrun Boulderhorn, Daughter of Bori and Gena Boulderhorn" A noise of happiness comes unbidden from Gudrun when she sees the old woman turn around and begin to fill a metal tankard with golden ale. The old woman spins around and with practiced ease slides the tankard down the bar toward Gudrun, the tankard stopping perfectly in in front of the dwarf. "What brings you to these parts Gudrun?" " What brings me here?" Gudrun lets out a small snort. "My birth, I was born a day's carriage from here on a cattle farm. Can't get out of "here" fast enough." "Why the desire to leave?" Agatha inquires a small sparkle in her eye. "It's a Travesty, dwedmar shouldn't live under the sky, herding sodding cattle." Gudrun lets out an angry grumble before continuing "Damn tree thumpers, wanted me to carry on their stupid traditions and take over the farm. I told them to pound manure" "Tree thumpers... Wait your parents?" Agatha looks aghast at the disrespect. "Nah my Grandsires, my parents know me well enough to know I would burn down that farm before I would take it over." Agatha gives a small nod still obviously uncomfortable with the open disrespect the woman in front of her was showing her elders. "What do you plan to do once you leave?" Agatha inquires. "I plan to earn my way as Grimdugan intended, with pick or axe, perhaps both" Gudrun lets out a brutal grunt laugh at that before continuing with a smirk. "And with Greed in my Heart." Agatha nods along, letting neither approval nor disapproval show on her face regarding Gudrun's statement. "and how about the armour? It's rather interesting" Agatha gestures at the Gudrun's body. Heavy metal plates coat it painted red, lined with gold or at least lined with something painted gold. Her heavy metal mask serving to hide her features. Gudrun lets out a loud laugh at that. "You can call it how you see it woman, you are wondering why I cover my face." Gudrun moves to remove her helmet, reaching under her chin to unclip a clasp hidden beneath her hair. She takes the helmet with both hands and lifts. A sheep, that's the first thought that enters Agatha's mind, she looks like a sheep. A soft olive-coloured face, a round slightly upturned nose, framed by two shorter braids coming down just below her chin, her eyes are an amber colour like an autumn leaf, flecked with spots of gold. Gudrun takes a long draft of her beer, one gulp turns to two, three, then four as she downs the whole tankard in one draft. "I covered it up so that my sun-cursed forest kin don't expect me to be like them." There is a sneer on her face, but Agatha can also see the parts that are normally hidden. There is an old pain there. Agatha nods once considering before giving the Dwarf woman a soft look. "It hurts when you don't fit, it chafes at the soul" Gudrun's eyes flash first with sadness then, with burning indignation. Sputtering excuses flying from her lips, curses, insults, threats. Agatha had never met a less threatening woman in her life. By the time Gudrun stops to take a breath, she nearly choked when she notices three steaming cuts of pork bell laid across her plate, graciously slathered in a brown gravy, caramelized onions and mushrooms. "Dig in dear, you have shared all I need" Agatha looks appraisingly as Gudrun's eyes flicker with indecision, it's obvious her pride wants her to storm out to rage and scream and curse but... Her Greed wins out. Gudrun digs into the pork belly with a gusto surpassing the beast that now adorns her plate. Agatha gives Gudrun a matronly smile before beginning work on a second plate.