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.”
((How do you respond?))
Taken by surprise, Nyrra takes a step back, eyeing the hag warily. "My name is Nyrrasaveth Kiiracent, ma'am, and I'm just passing through. My story, if you'd like to know, isn't one of much substance; I'm the daughter of two proud mali'ame, one a Greenblade and one a Green Priest. I've spent most of my life in the Vale of Nevaehlen, learning from my father and grandfather about the earth and the forest, and how to live in harmony with the earth, but recently I've left home to explore my interest in the world and to hopefully find a place to one day start my own family... now what of you, crone? Who are you, and how do you know me?"
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