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.”
((How do you respond?))
"My story? Hah." He eyes the cushion for a moment, before looking back toward the old hag. "This 'Dingy' town has exactly what I want." He crosses his arms, refusing to sit, or leave himself vulnerable, staying vigilant as he uneasily continues the conversation. "If you really need to know, I'm simply looking for somewhere to stay for a little while. old town ain't too happy with me and all." He clears his throat awkwardly, glancing down at his ankle, grimacing as he shifts his weight off of his right leg some more, still painful and bruised from being shackled for so long within his old towns prison. "Listen, i just want to help my mom, alright? maybe get a job and settle down for a bit. I need to set things right."
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