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?))
"Hmm... where do I begin... Well, first things first I am a Mali'ker." He pauses and does a slight inhale. "I have been moving from place to place ever since I was child." "I am apart of no clan of notoriety, just a wanderer." He pauses to think. "I left my tribe not too long ago; I wanted to experience every kind of culture this world has to offer. I care not if I am shunned by my brethren for this." He looks around the room getting a peek outside in the meantime. "Places such as this pique my interests. I can't help but want to learn everything about here." He stares to the outside world from the tent. He seems to snap back to reality. “Oh, my apologies. Where was I…” He pauses for a brief moment. “My Mother and Father, who were both Mali’ker, were born and raised in Ramasar. Supposedly I was aswell, but I’ve never personally seen the place nor have any memories from there.”He pauses once more. “I once asked why they had left. They told me they didn't get along with their clans. They refused to tell me which clans ofcourse. I hope to eventually find out why my parents and their clans don’t get along.”

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