Let me tell you about me before I began, I am the son of two great adventures that died in combat, so I grew up with the shadow of that legacy, my mom was a mage and my dad was a rouge, not wanting to be like them I chose to train in the art of the warrior. At 16 I am about 6ft with messy brown hair, my skin is fair. Now my armor and weapon I got cheap (little low on cash) was a simple grey suit of armor with a broad sword. The only other thing is the magic backpack my gran gave me, it make it were larger items become smaller so I can literally have an armory in the bag.
Now back to the story,
On a cliff in a land not known,
“Man why is adventuring so hard, I mean there is nothing wrong in the world, no dark kings trying to enslave everybody, monsters running about, dark dragons that can destroy the fabric of space in time, heck not even the bandits are making trouble,” said the young man. WHOSSH, a large red flash soared by, then turned, a large dragon now stood staring me