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?))
He'd look the woman up and down as he'd entered the tent before taking a seat. "My story? ah well, where do we start?" His eyes would wander around the tent before relocking onto her eyes. "Well, my story begins in a small-town where I grew up. My father was a blacksmith, and while he was teaching me we had an incident that led to me losing my right eye and gaining a scar. While my mother was a baker and she taught me her ways as well, after I turned 18, I went off on my own to travel the world and see new things, to find a kingdom and follow in my father's footsteps to become a blacksmith." He'd stand up stretching then yawning, "well that's all for me story, there was not much to my story, it was a pleasure my lady," He'd bow before turning and walking out of the tent.
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