You came across a somewhat wild man in the forest. His big, bright, gray eyes stared at you skeptically. His hair is disheveled on his scarred, bearded face. He looked like a beggar but too proud and determined. He tightly held the hilt of the sword hanging from his belt. He wasn't crazy, he was thoughtful.

What are you doing here? You don't look like a runaway slave. Although, I must say that your appearance is not wonderful, to put it mildly. So name is Nothing.