Navigator

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.” Almost reluctantly, Paschal sits, looking about the tent with moderate lack of trust. He presses and drags his tongue against his teeth for a moment, folding his hands over his lap, as he began to speak; the best way to get out of an awkward situation is, surely, to adhere to what the other individual is asking, to some extent. So, with dim blue eyes focused upon the elder, his fingers dig in and grip onto his knees, as he prepares himself to retell his tale; "My name is Paschal. Paschal Sanrôuc. I'm the son of Vidicar Sanrôuc, though I'm sure not many know my father. He had me at an advanced age already, and only recently passed away from, well, old age. He was a travelling merchant, but he'd always spoke of how I should instead aim to become a warrior, or, knight of some kind, but... It has never been much my thing, admittedly. I consider myself too charismatic to waste away and potentially die in a battlefield. Growing up was fairly uneventful, if I'm being honest. My life so far has been relatively boring, and I'm hoping that picking up my father's "business" and becoming a travelling merchant myself will make it more adventurous. Alas, I never met my mother, so my father raised me almost entirely on his own. And I wholly appreciate that, obviously. Many men across the Realm would abandon their children in much the same way my mother did - I'm glad he didn't. We moved around from city to city, and most of his earnings from merchandises were sent to, well, our survival. Food, occasional shelter and whatnot, as well as upkeep for our caravan animals. I never really had time to make friends in the brief stops we had in cities, and my only real friend was my father - but I knew my father had a lot of friends. Noblemen and shopowners from different realms and races that beseeched my father's services now and again. I kind of hope I can be like him... but, I'm not holding too many expectations. My father tried to harbor opinions for every race, and the only thing he avoided discussing was religion. Both he and I are Canonists, and to avoid conflict with people, we'd rather not discuss that, truthfully. Mostly because, well, we believe every race should have a chance out there. And we wont allow our views on whether or not there is a God or Gods to inhibit that. Well... thats that, I guess?"