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.”
You take a seat on the cushion, overcome with weariness. "I'm a blacksmith from the East, and I'm on my way to visit my family living in the Dwarfish settlement of the Iron Mountains. I stopped for the night in this town, because I've travelled for the past 3 days and nights without rest. Why do you say you were expecting me?"
The hag replies quickly, "That's none of your business. Why are you going to visit your family?"
The memories flash in your mind - a messenger collapsing on your doorstep bearing a letter from your family. The desperate scrawl on the letter requesting you to come quickly. You riding as fast as you can until your horse passes out from exhaustion. You dragging your unconscious horse to the nearest town - this town.
You hesitate for a moment, before saying, "Oh, I just wanted to see my family, it's been a long time."
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