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?))
Magnús stands ready with his hand on his blade. He casts a suspicious eye at the candles and the hag beneath them. "How do know who I am? Oh... I see, magic. I am a sell-sword who has been separated from his charge. I have spent the last month in trek across the most dangerous lands in search of her. Since you seem to know more then you should, perhaps you know her whereabouts" He said to the Hag.
He quirked a brow as her blindfolded face seem to track his movements, as he slowly lowered himself onto the cushion. He casually placed a palm on the dirk on his belt. "So the only payment you ask for is my life-story huh? Very well; I grew up in a small farm where the soil bore no crop but the most meager of grain. Our sheep were frail and the rarely survived the winter. I too barely survived my first winters, it was only the warmth and strength of my grandmother that did not lead me to the same fate. For my mother died during childbirth, and my father died in war. This left me alone with my older brother too tend to our land, once my grandmother became unable to work. Once I began to develop into a man, our village's shaman said to me that I was blessed by the all father to be an strong and honorable warrior. This was proven to be right at first, when I killed a man for the first time at merely fourteen. I returned to my grandma's household late in the evening, after a day of hunting and only a rabbit to show for it. I heard my grandma's scream, and ran to the cottage. I found her held against the wall with a dagger to her neck, by Sven the town scoundrel. I had grown quite large by that age, and was able to throw him off her. I dove back to her, only to find her bleeding out on the ground from her neck. I turned back to the man just as he was getting to his feet. I kicked him to the floor and crushed his throat beneath my foot. I found my older brother also dead at the side of the door. I did not even notice the gash on my face, when I went to the town elders. I was so filled with shame and anger that I just cried to them begging for forgiveness.
The chief said that I was destine for greatness and that he wanted me to join him on raids to a city far across the ocean. He said that I could become a warrior of the clan and protect the innocent against vile people. I hastily accepted his offer. Over the next decade I became a hardened warrior, and the best in our clan. During one battle our men were greatly out-numbered, and I found myself entering into an all-consuming blood-lust. This led to me tearing through ranks of soldiers. Once I caused a rout in my section of the field, I turned back only to see my chief and my battle brothers broken and fallen in puddles of red. I was alone, yet no enemy soldiers dared approach me. I simply fell to the ground in tears, realizing I had failed again. The enemy army captured me as a slave, and sent me to work as a gladiator in a local arena. I let myself be lost in the fights, and the booze.
That was, until she came. She was grace, beauty, and everything I lacked. I knew at once when I saw her in the stalls, that I would do anything for her. She looked at me and the games with disgust. I did not want to appear a savage to her. I wanted to be an honorable warrior again. With what little earnings I was allowed to keep, I put to work cleaning myself. Yes I was still covered in scars and brutish, yet I held that down with an iron grip. For her I knew I could find myself again. Instead of killing my next enemy, I threw my spear into my owners neck. He did not even dodge, he drew upon his dark powers and commanded the wind to redirect my weapon. In was not long later that I found myself at the gallows. The lady Eliana was not a noble, yet she carried herself as one. She demanded that I be let free at once, and that she had a letter from my master of her ownership of me. She bribed the guards to take the letter as legitimate. With that we fled, and I declared to her that I would defend her life with every breath I had. She did not accept this, merely stating that she wanted me to be free. I told her that freedom meant nothing to me without someone to protect. She still did not accept, but she said that we could travel together at least until we found a new home for me.
