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?))
After taking a long sip of his beer, he slammed the mug down on the table. "My father was a merchant from Rikardsburg," he said, and cleared his throat twice. "When I grew up, I went on caravans with my father. We made good money," he said, and leaned back in his chair. "I learned trade from my father. He was good at his job. Being a merchant is hard. Long-distance trade is even harder," he said, and then he approached the table. "We weren't lucky on our last expedition, bandits raided the caravan. My father... I lost my father then," he said, and leaned back in his chair again and looked around. "My father used to talk a lot about this place. It's a shame he wasn't buried here. He told me to go back to my hometown, that he had old friends there who would help me. It's safe to say I'm starting a new life. May God help me."
Recommended Comments