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.”
"Tell you my Story Huh, you're not known to me and mine, Why should I say anything more" groans Orin towards the Crone,
"Ah Halfbeard, I just wish to hear the story of someone so long lived" the Crone states calmly.
Orin Spits into the dirt besides him and groans before starting... "Fine but there isn't much to share, I Left home one day with my Family on a Mining Expedition and It turned out I quite liked the Expedition Life for the First 100 Years" Orin Glaze Drifted over the candles and considers how to explain why he choose to keep going on expedtions and not stay with his Family... "Well to be Honest, I never really got along with my Father, and One day Things turned Violent and My Mother Never Forgave me for Hitting my Father and I Just well Left.... I Suppose I Couldn't Find the Resolve to fix it and I just Left and been moving Ever Since..."
Orin Mutters Quietly under his voice towards the end "Wish I have a place to call home"
Orin Huffs and then Turns to the Crone "Thats all your getting from me til I have had my full of Ale and Meat, We'll Discuss more another TIme"

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