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?))
Jelle Benko straightened his back, meeting the old woman’s gaze. “I was a soldier once,” he said. “My village was small, just farmland, always attacked by raiders. I fought to protect it, side by side with people who had never held a sword.” His jaw tightened. “We won, but I knew one village wasn’t enough. The world is big, and I want to see it. I want to join an army—not just to fight, but to learn, to be more.” He exhaled, eyes flickering over the floating candles. “That’s why I’m here.” “I’m good on a horse, too,” he added. “I spent years riding the fields, learning to move fast, to strike before the enemy could react.” He glanced at the woman, wondering how she knew him. Had fate brought him here, or was it just chance? Either way, he was ready for whatever came next.
