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?))
Theia fidgets with her hands, twiddling her fingers as she stammers a response. "Oh, I'm uh, from the kingdom of Norland. I'm just out here looking for work," She takes a seat as she explains, "Just trying to put food on the table n' all." She sighs, tired from her travels. "Or rather...trying to get a table to put food on. I really don't have a place to live right now." She rambles, eyes drifting around the tent to avoid eye contact. She normally doesn't speak of her situation like this, but the woman asked, so why not right? Theia hopes this woman might have work for her, "I haven't had much luck looking for a job in Norland, most of the jobs that suit me aren't hiring at the moment." She's always been on the weaker and meeker side, her father was the one who brought in money doing the tough jobs that highlanders like her would normally thrive at. However, ever since he passed she's been on her own and now curses herself for relying on her father too much, yet she remains determined to make a living for herself.
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