[ The world will develop as the story goes - If you want to join.  Join.  Just post your character in and I'll get them incorporated within a post or two. ]<br/><br/>Ice cold water fell from the heavens.  "God forsaken crap hole."  Muttered Mitchaland Arthur Joist, Mitch to his friends of which there were precisely zero.  It had been two years, two long miserable hard years since he had awoken to the sound of his father's throat being slit by his mother.  Severed the bastard right, he shouldn't have beat her.  Unfortunately, the Royal Count's representative had not agreed and Mitch remembered in horror as his mother's head had snapped in the noose.<br/><br/>Mitch had left the village and taken to the life of a bandit, which he had to admit had been a very lucrative one, there was just one pesky problem.  The last mark had taken great exception to parting with his wares and had removed all but Mitch's head from their prospective shoulders.  Mitch had been lucky, he had been in the bushes taking a leak when the merchant's elite crack force had come.  They didn't take anything, which to Mitch's mind was good ... he felt rich with the four silver that rested in his belt buckle, but he knew he had a choice, he could continue the life of banditry, find another crew.  Or he could be smart, and find another line of work.<br/><br/>Mitch decided on the latter, and the first thing he was going to do when he got into civilization again was get himself a bath and a proper shave.  Lifting his hand to the brown and white scruff that would be otherwise called an exceptionally hairy beard he muttered, "Nineteen years old and you already have grey in your beard.  Come on Mitch, keep your wits.  Shave, smarten up.. and see if there is a life for you now the Old Count is dead ..."<br/><br/>Now Mitch knew better than to think about a city, no that would not be good.  Too many people and he wouldn’t fit in, but a nice inn, to restock supplies … to make himself a man again, that would be excellent.  Living in the wilderness, he knew he wasn’t able to face the jungle of a city.  As a child he had gone to one and knew enough that he hated it, but cooking that wasn’t just a skewered rabbit over a spit.   That was something to look forward to, and he was rich right?  Four whole silvers, he hadn’t seen so much money in his entire life!<br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="https://www.deviantart.com/art/Wounded-Bandit-642119331">Picture of Mitch - Thanks to LiberLibelula</a>