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?))
Extension of physical description since it has a character limit:
Julian Flaccus stands at a lean-bodied five-foot ten. His hair is blonde and lengthy, with a thick mustache and mutton chops adorning his lips. His eyes are a vibrant blue. His clothes lack the lavish hues given to him by genetics - a brown, puffy gambeson paired with even browner boots.
Response:
Julian Flaccus mumbled to himself. What a disgusting village. It reminds him of his time as a boy, fleeing the marshlands of Aevos on the path to Azuras. He did not wish to return to those times.
Julian was not born to poor peasants - but not born to lavish noblemen, either. He had been born to a middle class, stuck atop an eternally extending tightrope - One wrong move, and they would plummet to the bottom, but if they ever crossed to the other side, they might, just might, be rewarded for their daring. The fall of Aevos proved disastrous to his father's finances. Too much inventory lost in the transition. They should have expected to run for the hills after the fall of Azdromoth. The end times always return... They just didn't expect it to occur during their lifetimes, for once.
Julian has been adventuring ever since. Scrounging enough coin to survive.
"I've come here to seek a monster to kill. I've heard this..." He struggles to contain a grimace. "Swamp has found themself with some sort of vile lizard infestation. Care to guide me?"
