Jake Lancester

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.” He nodded and sat. “my name’s Jake Lancester. Grew up on my grandparents farm. Left not long ago to make my own way. I’m twenty now - looking for work in the military.” He glanced around the flickering tent. "Anyways, who are you?"

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.” He looks around, "Yes, thank you." he sits down and begins to tell, "Everything started on my grandpa´s farm, when my mom died and my father had to go to war" he looks on the ground, "I was only seven years old, when I started helping out my grandpa. He was a very good man." He looks at her, "But how about you? Tell me youre story?" he looks interested at her.