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?))
The man curiously eyed around the tent- pacing each foot over the moist ground beneath them. He sat himself down on the stool with a huff- relieved from a long journey. He then tugged back his lip to glare towards the hag. He was cold in his reply, "I am simply passing through.". A glance around the rest of the tent, taking note of what was around. Not with intents of malice, but curiosity. Tomasz would then shift his attention back to the hag. Awaiting her next beckoning words. He leaned his elbows onto his knees as he listened, his eyebrow corking to the request. "My story?" He said, slightly taken aback. He leaned straight to the stood and hummbed out a few words, "It is a common tale. Not one I would bore with.". He seemed to pay more attention to the door behind him- Tomasz's comfortness was slightly offput. He broke the silence of his distance, "You seem to have more to say about this village. It is quite... somber.". He now moved his stocky frame to hunch a litle. Hunkering himself in to hear what this old hag might know of this thimble in his path.
Tomasz would give a low grumble, and loosely wander his eyes around the tent. "My own life- it was a familiar one. I was raised up around New Valdev.". He briefly took a moment to glare to the light flickered by a candle- recollecting the alleys and market corners he once called home. "I did not know my parents well," He replied now, "But I knew the fletcher, the cobbler, the blacksmith's apprentice, and the merchants.". He took a moment to adjust his posture to a more defined sit with proud memories amidst his mind. "I became quite useful in the crafts. I am a knowledgeable man- though I am not a battle-tested page to journeyman." He shrugged a shoulder as if it were not much to think about. "It is knowledge that can pass when need be- father know I'm of quick wit." He chipperly tapped to his temple- illuminated gauntly by the dim lighting and a grin. "No matter- I suppose that is why I walk my path." He clarified with a hand pressed to his knee, "I am in search of new fiefdoms to practice my crafts. Just as I always have.". Tomasz gave a note of mind to the door once again- "...Somewhere."
"Though, I have some regrets." Tomasz followed up to the hag, "I had a great loss, many years ago.". He took a hand up to rest in his chin amidst his thoughts. "My siblings were younger- unable to manuever thewway of life we had to live as well as I.". He continued with a tinge of conflict in his voice, "The thought reminds me of a few lily-livered decisions I made as a boy. Had things been different, I may live /without/ these regrets.". He brought up a hand and adjusted his collar, awkwardly. Though he broke the silence- "I am determined to find success in these new parts. I cannot be the last of my name- I wish to build a home that we were not able to have.". He took a moment to browse over his goals in his mind, "I wish to make an entire life my brothers and sisters could never live!". He boastfully stood up from his seat within the tent to eye upward at the hanging candles. Tomasz glared back towards the hag- and returned to his seat. Mumbling under quiet thoughts to himself.
