ItzAxstin

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 stops in his tracks abruptly before continuing to the cushion she eyed. Hesitantly making himself comfortable, He takes a seat. As he eyes the old lady from foot-to-head, he looks for an ounce of untrustworthiness in her being. Finding nothing, he lets out a miserable sigh. "Well.. if you would like to hear, I can spare some details from home i suppose" He says, trying not to make eye contact. "It may seem like any other village..." His eyes fill with a glint of despair. "...but there used to be a plateau named Forouch, covered in luscious daisy-filled fields. Surrounded in the highest of oak and cedar trees" He remarks, looking for a nod of approval from her. She gives him nothing but a glance to continue. "My father always said it looked like a glorious heaven-scape... I have to agree looking back now. Unfortunately though, like all beautiful things, there's always people that want it for themselves". Remembering his own story, his voice starts to shake, "The Iymrs they're called. The ones who took over... If i recall correctly, it was a night about 15 summers ago. They barricaded us in and stole every sow, bull, and hen we owned. They made sure there was nothing left for us to survive. Their militia was much more larger than any of us prepared for... It just felt wrong. Even as a child, I remember thinking why weren't we dead by now. Of course, they only wanted us for our strength. To become a part of their team. Our people were always strong and resilient, known for carrying their own weight out in these woods. Our men were strong and the woman too but even with our little numbers we were no match for those pigs... Growing up, I was always under careful supervision by these people". He would look to the ceiling, trying to find an excuse not to continue, "Those were the worst years of my life". he muttered under his breath. "Watching this beautiful home i knew turn into a steel-work of a dungeon. Everything smelled like ash and coal. Nothing looked sunny or green anymore. Even a taste of sorrow just clouded the air. As if all color and hope left over those years". He looked to her again, trying to reach for an ounce of compassion. "I didnt think you'd get it, I suppose you grew up here, seeing your home just blossom instead of wilt. It was a lot i suppose.. almost too much.. so i left. My family, my home, my people, it just wasn't what i wanted. That night i remember so clear its almost burned into my everyday cycle. It was after my 18th birthday. They were about to send me on my first solo mission... somewhere out west, and i knew that was the last time i'd see home. They made it seem like I would be stuck there. And that was that. I ran... so far out into the woods i collapsed by the time it hit sundown. I already knew by then they'd send every knight after me, but I couldn't go back. Since then I have been looking for a place that reminds of home. Somewhere I can just stare off and feel that same warm breeze i remember gliding through my hair all those years ago" He bunches his hand, gliding it over his eye, to remove the tears weltering up in his waterline. "Not the best upbringing, but I've seen so much of this land and it fills me with hope. Somewhere out there I'll find out." He finally lets out a smile, something he almost forgot he could do. "I needed that... thank 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 stops in his tracks abruptly before continuing to the cushion she eyed. Hesitantly making himself comfortable, He takes a seat. As he eyes the old lady from foot-to-head, he looks for an ounce of untrustworthiness in her being. Finding nothing, he lets out a miserable sigh. "Well.. if you would like to hear, I can spare some details from home i suppose" He says, trying not to make eye contact. "It may seem like any other village..." His eyes fill with a glint of despair. "...but there used to be a plateau named Forouch, covered in luscious daisy-filled fields. Surrounded in the highest of oak and cedar trees" He remarks, looking for a nod of approval from her. She gives him nothing but a glance to continue. "My father always said it looked like a glorious heaven-scape... I have to agree looking back now. Unfortunately though, like all beautiful things, there's always people that want it for themselves". Remembering his own story, his voice starts to shake, "The Iymrs they're called. The ones who took over... If i recall correctly, it was a night about 15 summers ago. They barricaded us in and stole every sow, bull, and hen we owned. They made sure there was nothing left for us to survive. Their militia was much more larger than any of us prepared for... It just felt wrong. Even as a child, I remember thinking why weren't we dead by now. Of course, they only wanted us for our strength. To become a part of their team. Our people were always strong and resilient, known for carrying their own weight out in these woods. Our men were strong and the woman too but even with our little numbers we were no match for those pigs... Growing up, I was always under careful supervision by these people". He would look to the ceiling, trying to find an excuse not to continue, "Those were the worst years of my life". he muttered under his breath. "Watching this beautiful home i knew turn into a steel-work of a dungeon. Everything smelled like ash and coal. Nothing looked sunny or green anymore. Even a taste of sorrow just clouded the air. As if all color and hope left over those years". He looked to her again, trying to reach for an ounce of compassion. "I didnt think you'd get it, I suppose you grew up here, seeing your home just blossom instead of wilt. It was a lot i suppose.. almost too much.. so i left. My family, my home, my people, it just wasn't what i wanted. That night i remember so clear its almost burned into my everyday cycle. It was after my 18th birthday. They were about to send me on my first solo mission... somewhere out west, and i knew that was the last time i'd see home. They made it seem like I would be stuck there. And that was that. I ran... so far out into the woods i collapsed by the time it hit sundown. I already knew by then they'd send every knight after me, but I couldn't go back. Since then I have been looking for a place that reminds of home. Somewhere I can just stare off and feel that same warm breeze i remember gliding through my hair all those years ago" He bunches his hand, gliding it over his eye, to remove the tears weltering up in his waterline. "Not the best upbringing, but I've seen so much of this land and it fills me with hope. Somewhere out there I'll find out." He finally lets out a smile, something he almost forgot he could do. "I needed that... thank you."