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?))
—Gabriel sits down, "One second.." He says with a hoarse voice, scratchy from prolonged dehydration. "I don't mean to intrude, I apologize deeply." Gabriel gently bows his head in respect, but weakly stands back up. "If you don't mind hearing my story, it is quite a long one." The old woman stays silent, Gabriel takes it as an answer to tell his story.
"My name is Gabriel Blackwood, I've held the sword for as long as I remember, but I don't remember much past that. I don't recall how I arrived here, but I saw your tent. Anyhow, I don't mean to give you an excuse for my rudeness. I recall a bit of how I arrived here, and I've ran away from what I knew as home because it'd been burnt to ashes, being.. ****, it was a place that no-longer has any worth nor exists. I don't know what I intend on doing for my future, but it'd be one with my sword. My most precious keepsake that'd been by my side since I was a child, and this necklace as a reminder to stick to being the light within darkness. If you asked me whether I wished to rise as a king or be a tyrant, then I'd give you the answer of being a soldier. I'd rather swear my loyalty and heart towards someone I believe in, and make a difference within the majority instead of taking a spot so undeserving. After all that, I'd like to settle down somewhere I could call home, maybe a nice farmland would be nice?" Gabriel chuckles gently, and the night had progressed between the two like wine.
