i am leaving your inn early today and i wont return for a good amount of time, i see you are in meditation so im writing it down.
thank you, for letting me find shelter here.
i apologize for being so quiet about my daily endavours and going straight to bed everytime i entered.. and never being sober.. but perhaps i can give you some insight on my past and where im heading.
i have been a honest sosarian farmer and i loved my land but when the plague consumed everyone that we called friends and the population began to dwindle i had to move on.
the past six years i have spent as a templar in the land of wraeclast until october came and i was able to catch a ship bringing me and many other refugees to these outlands.
quickly i had established myself as a farmer on an island that provided a bit of shelter.
and then.. other people began doing horrible acts to my dear animals, my sheep have been ravaged and taken away from me!
the other refugees said that there were no other sheep to be found anywhere at all and that it was the plan of the gods.
eventually, after the continuous slaughter i had to adapt and tried my hand at fishing and became very proficient at it.
after fishing for several days and sleeping under a rotting tree i was finally going to have success, i took all my fish and cut them into fishsteak, ran to every tradesman in town but none would buy them! not even the nearly starving refugees were interested!
that same day i happened to lose my citizenship of shelter island and so i left in rage.
i have spent a while hunting beasts and criminal men of these lands until i started to remember how i had to endure a similar situation six years ago.
the criminals often seemed to just do many mistakes that could have been avoided, yet the people in the most shiny clothes and armor turned out to be the most villainous personalities.
the rage could no longer be controlled and so i started to murder them like the swines they were, one by one until i would find the malicious individuals responsible for all my misery.
i have travelled all over the lands and around every corner i found someone that smelled disturbingly similar to my fellow sheep that have been taken away.
i have tried to speak to some but the unexpected sheer number and seemingly untameable vicousness of the creatures in these lands left me too vulnerable to do so, under the extreme influence of ale i often only found one solution. murder.
though even in rage i still managed to reconsider as soon as their corpse laid in front of me and so i only took the things for i had need and often helped them back on their feet.
it took many failures before i found my former conciousness in the art of combat, but eventually i thrived, over all that was human and alive.
today, i finally found shelter in my very own house and as red as the creek is running, it was established with blood money
now here i stand, staff and ale in my hand, with my trusty steed by my side, which goes by the name Dalai.
many more before him but grief has turned the stables slim.
Atman, never will i forget, the sigh of relief whenever we met, for the shelter that you gave, when alone and hidden like in a grave i found myself feeling so weak... in this wretched town, they named Corpse Creek.
Though it might! be a murderous sight.. celebrate we shall tonight.
with ale and best weed, for it may shade your night, but eventually ease the fright of being homeless, my friends.
with many outcasts i have shared a bottle, until a man attacked full throttle.
he did not show any remorse and so i replied with disruptive magic force until my staff finally caused divorce and the offending swine fell off his horse.
suprise! he just collapsed! unsure wether it was due to my own stench or that of my steed, i had to proceed, find others in need, go and wash off all the bleed and get home before the ale would deplete.
it felt like his spirit was following me like it happens everytime and i spoke out loud, i just wanted to drink with you! swine.
righteous as i am, i had left a bottle of ale at his corpse, allowing him to ease his remorse.
sometimes the gods would visit our lovely town of outcasts, i have never seen them.. but by the light of divinity i have felt their presence.
the gods seem unwilling to accept the path that a few of us have chosen and so hobo will try to wash his hands clean, soon!
their wrath and holy storms will come and change the landscape forever but im grateful for that now i have a roof made of stone to provide protection.
establish a home on outlands only by solo killing other players.
train a character of your choice, then use your gold for a blessed runebook (58k) or any other things that merely save time, the rest of the gold and items has to go on alterlate characters banks.
personally, i went absolutely eco mode.
challenge starts at 0 murder counts, pick your first 5 targets wisely to ensure a good start.
as soon as you turn red you have to live off the land and what you can buy in corpse creek, that means only lesser potions, armor etc.
you are allowed to feed your character with mounts, exceptional weapons and bandages though so that you dont have to dryloot and annoy every victim.
use everything you find or sell everything you can to npcs in order to wash off the remains of blood.
you sleep in the inn so you logout there.
no exploitive multiclient bullshit, you are a man of honor!
you must buy a house deed (in CC) and place that house on your red, makes things more exiting.
see also: the Gucci Hobo Challenge (path of exile)