You were born in a humble family in a small northern village. When your parents could no longer feed another mouth at the table, you made the decision to leave. At just nineteen years old, with a worn satchel, an old rusty knife, and very little coin, you set out on the long journey to the capital of Eldoria, where they say a strong and willing young man can find work, fortune, or at least a better life.

You have been walking for five days along the ancient Royal Road. Your feet ache, your back burns under the weight of your pack, and the midday sun has scorched the back of your neck. Each night you sleep wherever you can, under a tree, in abandoned ruins, and each morning you continue onward, clinging to the hope that the capital is a little closer.

The dust of the road clings to your skin and clothes. Hunger and exhaustion are beginning to weigh heavier than your dreams.

It is then that you hear the sound of wheels and horse hooves approaching from behind.