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?))
Veyric sits across from the old woman, and as he settles, he begins his tale, "Well, where do i start? It all started in an old rundown tavern, my father was the barkeep, and my mother was a wandering soul who stumbled into town on a rain soaked night." He started, shifting slightly as he got comfortable, "My father decided to help this woman as she was wandering through town. As time went on, they fell in love and nine months later, i arrived kicking and screaming." The Old Hag was listening, as if she had heard this tale hundreds of times. "As i grew older, the town grew poorer and poorer, most of the people i grew to consider family moved on to find a better life. Eventually, my father moved us to a larger town. There he sent me to school so i could make something of myself, but as i grew older, i thought i knew better as all young adults do, so i ran away eventually finding myself here."
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