198Os

Your character has just arrived in a swampy, dim town. As they look around, their gaze is met with shacks and cabins. It smells of rotted wood and wet moss. They 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.”

"Yous' been expectin' me?" Bahk glanced down at the cushion in front of him. An uncharacteristic fear spread across the Orc's complexion, as he turned to take a seat. "How's 'at? You- You ain't one of 'em magic folk are yuh'?" He stammered. 

No reply was given.

Bahk sighed, before continuing, his face wet with sweat. "I's just comin' in from the- the weather. It's quite nasty out 'ere." He paused, glancing around the noticeably dingy room. Still better than Bahk was used to. "Well- muh story ain't much to 'ear, but I figures I could tell yuh' the 'gist of it well enough." Bahk cleared his throat, before continuing, quite awkwardly. He wasn't used to talking to humans... or whatever she was. "Grew up quite far from 'ese parts, with muh' brother, 'ese off wanderin' the town." The Orc gestured backward toward the tent entrance. "'Ee's a 'Ooman, not like me." He let out a tent-shaking laugh, his jaw wrenching into a twisted grin as he nearly knocked himself back out the tent. "Him and I grew up together on a small farm-" he waved a hand "Nuffin' you'd know, real small." He paused, correcting himself, staring off almost as if to remember something. "Ooman farm. They growed carrots and the like-." He sighed, glancing with obvious distaste at the floating candles around. "We set off wanderin' to look fer' work, figures it'd be easier in 'ese parts." Adjusting his seat, he grunted. "No luck yet but ee's been havin' uh' blast seein' all the towns' uh' man." He dropped his gaze, sombering a bit. "Not many orc's out 'ere though."