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?))
"I hail from a small village, outside of the burnt-down city of Whitespire." The young Benedict said, "I remember a prosperous city when I was younger, I used to visit the big city many times.." he'd ponder momentarily, going on. "Though, now it is all gone. I have no home, no way back aswell. I wish to find new homeage and build a new life" Benedict would say going on, "I have stumbled upon this place, by accident. But I hope it is in all peacefulness from my last home." He'd murmur, looking around to analyze his surroundings. "I seek to find homage in these lands, and grow to become a better and bigger person than my previous self." Benedict would finish his speech, his gaze setting on the woman Infront of him. Awaiting a response..
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