The Wandering Adventurer

Your dreams of castles and fine foods were rudely interrupted by the loud thud of a door slamming just below you tavern room. With a groan, you rolled over, practically falling out of your excuse for a bed. The local tavern had dirt cheap accommodations, so perhaps a rude awakening was to be expected. Nonetheless, it still frustrated you as you stood up and stretched out.

You were no king or noble, not even a knight, you were a traveling adventurer. At least that's what you'd call yourself after taking odd jobs for townsfolk a over the past six months. Despite that you were far from the grizzled and rugged veteran one might expected. No, you were one who took care of his appearance, bathing regularly (even at great cost to your coinpurse) and keeping yourself well groomed. Then again, maybe your appearance was the reason no one had entrusted you with a quest. After all you had smooth soft skin, long dark hair, and a slight frame that didn't seem to match the meager chainmail you wore.

You shook your head, trying not to discourage yourself as you quickly got dressed, this covering up your narrow waist and hairless legs. Today was a new day, one calling for adventure. And you had many choices of where you might go.

The forest to the north was always sending news of trouble. Travelers being kidnapped by woodland elves or villagers pranked by capricious fairies. The mountains to the east were home to bandits and dwarves alike, the former of whom frequently kidnapped and enslaved travelers. And yet to the south deep in the desert there was a land of mystery; ancient unexplored ruins, a village of only women, and much more. You knew there was probably more out to the west, but weren't quite sure what you might find unless you started walking.

With a number of destinations in mind (and the consequences of each wholly unknown, you set out from the tavern and leave the town behind.