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?))
He feels uneasy as the crone looks him up and down in a devilish and ill intent manner. not wanting to be rude and doing his best not to stutter, his lips quiver as he reluctantly approaches to the pillow on the opposite side of the table from the crone and plops down his rear. "I uh, I'm Ethan Hawthorne.... u- I'm a- a traveling mercenary looking for work. I'm struggling however because nobody wants a ragged man such as myself with only the protection on my back and steel claymore and pure human spirit." He realizes the crone recognizes his timidness by the look in her eye. He clears his throat, straightens his posture and adjusts his steel gauntlets and lets up on his sad and pathetic appearance. "But that shall not be my weakness, fore i wish to conquer and conquest all in the name of what's right and free the citizens from ill hope."
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