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.”
"You want to know about me?" He says, leaning back. "So be it. I was born and raised in a small little town in a forest. Growing up, my parents showed me how to hunt. I turned out to be very talented, and as the years went on, I surpassed the abilities of the other children there. Around when I was..." Olyvaire pauses to think, purple eyes shining in the candlelight. "I was around 14, I believe, when I realized how naive the others in my village were. I had convinced them I was with a "sweetheart", when I was actually hunting alone for some fun. They were easy to manipulate and I, yearning for freedom, convinced them that I was going on a solo hunting trip." Smirking darkly, he continues. "Ah, my poor family, I never happened to return. For these many years, I've simply been having my own fun. Pickpocketing, taking bounties. I do have to thank my parents for teaching me how to hunt, though. You know, people aren't much harder to hunt than animals. I'll probably be off soon, hunting people with bounties on their heads. Maybe someday I'll even just start a peaceful life." Laughing, he adds, "Who am I kidding? That's never happening."
