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.”
Rolf begins to eye the women, taking in the environment that he finds himself in. He sets down his bag and rolls his shoulders "Aye women, I can tell you a story or two" Rolf sits next to her and pulls a canteen from his bag uncorking the lid "before I explain my story I need to wet my throat" as he gulps down the liquid he finishs and sets down the drink next to him and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "So, where to begin, I guess it all started when I was in my 20s, starting out as a guard for my village in the highlands" Rolf looks up in the air as he begins to reminisce about home. "Worked the gate for five long years, boringest job in the world, but kept food in me belly. One night I found myself at the pub with my mates drink and acting a fool, when an idea struck me why waste my youth sitting in front of a gate watching travelers go in and out when I could join them and see the world" Rolf begins to sit up straight with a gleam of something in his eye which fills him with strength "So I went home to see my Mother and tell her what I was to do and bless her soul gave me my fathers armour" Rolf looks down and pounds his fist into his chest allowing the metal to echo into the night "I left that morning found myself a caravan to travel with and first came to the heartland then decided to wander the world after that, but my story is still being written with more places to walk to and sights to see" Rolf stares back at the women "Now i've spoken for long enough, lets hear more about you"
