Bangus Befdigan

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?)) "Well..." Bangus brushes himself off, taking a seat, one he could barely reach at that. "From what my parents tell me, I was born to dwarven parents, but was abandoned at birth and given to a couple on a small farm near a river. They taught me everything. Common Language, fishing, hunting, and some basic sword skills were essential for me to use if I were to encounter a monster or wild animal. Everything was going just fine for me until that day, a group of bandits knocked on our family house door demanding that we pay a fee or else. My father chose the second option. He grabbed his sword to try and defend our family, but paid the price. As I watched my father cut down, something awakened in me that day. I had some close friends of mine in the town help look after my Mother as I set out for adventure, never to look back again.” Bangus got up from his seat, offering a polite smile as he left the old lady some leftover bread from his travel bag. “Payment for allowing me some rest in your home.” He said, turning to leave, armor clanking from the sudden movement as he left the small home.

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?)) "Well..." Bangus brushes himself off, taking a seat, one he could barely reach at that. "From what my parents tell me, I was born to dwarven parents, but was abandoned at birth and given to a couple on a small farm near a river. They taught me everything. Common Language, fishing, hunting, and some basic sword skills were essential for me to use if I were to encounter a monster or wild animal. Everything was going just fine for me until that day, a group of bandits knocked on our family house door demanding that we pay a fee or else. My father chose the second option. He grabbed his sword to try and defend our family, but paid the price. As I watched my father cut down, something awakened in me that day. I had some close friends of mine in the town help look after my Mother as I set out for adventure, never to look back again.” Bangus got up from his seat, offering a polite smile as he left the old lady some leftover bread from his travel bag. “Payment for allowing me some rest in your home.” He said, turning to leave, armor clanking from the sudden movement as he left the small home.