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.”
"Huh, you were expecting me? Do you know me?" Rongu tensed at her words. For a moment, he glanced back at the town, more questions stirring in his mind about this strange place. Cautiously, he stepped into the tent and settled onto the cushion.
"My story’s not one I tell just anyone," he said, scratching his short, thick beard with a soft chuckle. "Buy this dwarf a drink first, then maybe we’ll talk. How about you start by telling me who you are?"
“Aye alright... I had two brothers growin’ up. Me and the younger one were dwarves through and through. But the oldest—Kaelen—he was different. Skin like ash, hair like snow. Truth is, he was a drow babe Ma found near the mountain. She lied to him, said he was hers by blood.”
“He tried his best to fit in, worked harder than any of us. But the others never let him forget he was different. Called him names, treated him like dirt. He held it all in—till one night he overheard the truth. By morning, he was gone.”
“Left a broken mug and the word ‘Why’ carved into stone. After our folks passed, I couldn’t stay. I’ve been travelin’ since—lookin’ for him. Hopin’ I can fix what was broken… if he’ll even let me.” Rongu then hesitated standing back up getting ready to leave.
"Thats all ya' get to know ya' hag."
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