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.”
Samantha warily looked over the old woman, but cautiously stepped near, "You have? Did someone send for an apothecary?" At the gesture to seat herself, the herb-monger gave a small shake of her head and a dismissive wave of her hand. "I won't be here long. I'm on my way to New Providence; I'm a healer and medicinal herb seller by trade, so I usually go where wars are, or, were- I'm not a fighter." She was quick to clarify the latter point, "I just figure there may be veterans of the Brothers' War that may be in need of my services. I don't have much right now, but..." and here, she dug through a small bag at her hip, "..I can offer you a bit of rosemary. Simple, but it does aid in preventing infection, and helps you sleep."
She held out a sprig of the green herb to the woman, offering a kind smile with the kind offer.
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