You’ve just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As you look around, your gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. You duck and step into a tattered tent, illuminated by a series of candles suspended in the air. At the back of the tent, an old hag raises her head, “What brings you to this dingy town? she begins, then pauses to study your face—”Ah, it’s you. I’ve been expecting you. Sit,” she gestures at a cushion, “Tell me your story.”
((How do you respond?))
Varryn cautiously entered the dimly lit tent, eyeing the old hag who awaited him within. "You've been expecting me?" he asked, surprised.
The hag studied him knowingly. "I've seen many things in my time," she rasped. "And I have foreseen the paths that lead us to this moment."
Varryn settled on a cushion, his curiosity piqued. "I seek guidance," he admitted. "Answers to questions that have plagued me for too long."
The hag nodded, urging him to share his story. "Tell me your truth, Varryn," she said gently. "Perhaps together, we'll find the answers."
And so, Varryn recounted his tale, feeling a weight lift as he spoke. As the hag listened, he hoped he'd find solace and the truth he sought in this dingy town's shadows the story was as told.
"I was raised in the undercity of Nor'asath with no family to call my own and a cold heart that only beat for survival. Trust was a luxury i could not afford. I used my quick wit and my cunning sense to survive i stole to eat i evaded the gazing eyes of the city guards. I was determined to rise above my station and carve out a place for myself in a world that has shown me no mercy. I joined the ranks of some street rat rebels in an attempt to better my situation but betrayal was keen within every corner but the flame within me never diminished. I left the rebels with coin in my hands and a stomach well fed i ventured out of the slum land and i am forever on a journey to make a better life for myself and myself only."
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